I don’t fly all the time, but when I do I experience the greatest internal feeling of freedom I can imagine.

My experiences flying began when I was a child, but as I grew flying became less. I’m not sure at what age exactly I began to fly and I have no clue what sparked my forever journey into the sky. There were periods I would go for weeks, sometimes maybe months without flying but the desire to fly never left me.

I remember the first time I flew on an airplane. My excitement and anticipation was strong and I knew that what I was about to feel, what I was about to experience, would be exactly as it had always felt as when I flew on my own. And it was. The sheer joy from being lifted off the ground from within a tube was one-in-the-same as it had always been for me, and the experience changed me. How did I know this is how it would feel? How did I know the adrenaline rush from speed and eventual lift would match everything I had always felt as when flying solo? It was a beautiful experience. It was.

In recent days I have been flying often. The air bound experience is always the same, all joy. I love to fly. I love the rush of air rushing past me as I soar up and through the sky. Beyond words, it is a feeling unmatched by any other.

My ability to fly is a gift, I know that. Few people have this ability and I never take it for granted that it will always be there. There. There when I am free. There as I am limited by no boundaries. Only pure limitless possibilities, when I fly.