(86) the will of one's wings

(image courtesy of @tp-h) a will to live is a heck of a powerful thing. it can drive us, carry us through the most inhospitable and desperate of circumstances. course through our veins in place of oxygen. fuel our pulsing, raging, wanting, healing and hurting bodies, when nourishment is beyond reach. fuel far from feasible. for most of my life, people around me have seen a prolific achiever. someone with an endless capacity for doing things, always on the move, running between classes, appointments, meetings; showing up just in time. holding on, in many senses, by the skin of her teeth and a dogged, golden-eyed pursuit of her goals. and for most of my life, i could lose myself within, and to these goals. yes, at times this was to my own detriment—these wax-sealed wings know all too well the heat of this sun—but i was always able to pull up, or dive away just in time. my will kept me afloat. the air beneath my wings, the flowing, echoed whispers of hope and opportunity carried me when…