Falling? No. The feeling of falling cannot sufficiently describe this. It is nearly impossible to put it in words anyway. You have to fly, if you want to understand. It is like dreaming. No, that isn´t right either… No, it´s not floating.
Remember that one time, when we went rafting? Yeah, and the current was too swift and we had a hard time maneuvering our boat to safety? It´s that kind of the feeling, like emptiness in your guts. Emptiness and warmth at the same time…
But there are different conditions too. Like a clear sunny day, with good weather, is like a day at the beach, with calm sea. Waves coming in, retracting and you can see so far away, that it seems, the world has no boundaries at all. You could just step out and… fly.
Then there are the windy days, when you get tossed around, not able to help yourself. It costs so much will power to keep a steady course… You struggle on, hoping you will land in one piece. Then you must watch out for clouds. Those days are dangerous. Bad surprises.
And of course the days of anger and outrageous temper… Those days, when you look up, and the tip of your tongue burns and stings with electricity; when the skin on your back seems to be too small. Every breath feels like you´ve inhaled too much storm, and your heart starts to race… Knowing you have to get up there. But then… Something strange happens. Flying by those gigantic landscapes of infuriated nature, the walls of darkness closing in. I feel…peace.