Voices on the Wind Voices on Waiting
Work Hard Enough, You Can Be Anything by Laura Grace Weldon You were fed that particular crock fed it to your children as well though it's entirely freeing to round the corner past early ambition, each choice tilting you farther from musician, astronaut, sea captain, dancer, toward something else, not fate exactly, but a closer approximation of who you are. Maybe composing scores no one hears transmutes to lung-deep love for another musician's work. Maybe, having tripped down icy front steps onto bone-twisting railings, you are inspired to ascend different heights. It becomes less about pushing and more about what pulls you from some tender place, felt as the completeness of the body's yes. Then, when dancing through fallen leaves with a toddler shrieking in delight you are entirely that dance. When blown free from a broken job you explore uncharted space. When finding yourself at the end of a poem writing itself you see the vessel steers past enough to anything.