Failing and Flying

packed. I have often felt like the poor mortal horse, Jumper, harnessed alongside the immortal horses of Achilles: like him, I struggled to keep up, always knowing that the original poem, my model and constant companion, would always gallop ahead.

I know most people try hard

to do good and find out too late

they should have tried softer.

We might start off by paraphrasing Oscar Wilde’s poem, substituting the word ‘Art’ for ‘Love’.

Art will fly if held too lightly,

Art will die if held too tightly,

Lightly, tightly, how do I know

Whether I’m holding or letting Art go?

For years and years I struggled just to love my life. And then the butterfly rose, weightless, in the wind. “Don’t love your life too much,” it said, and vanished into the world.