Memoirs… the start of a chapter that may start a book.

It’s funny how things change over the course of time.

When I was a young child, I watched airplanes take off, touch down, and go about their dance of people and procedures. Sitting with my father, who shared and more or less instilled my love of the metal can with airfoils attached, I dreamed of what it might be like to one day soar amongst the cotton balls in the air above.

When I’m with my father anymore and a plane flies over, we still glance up. Memories of childhood flood my consciousness–that toy airplane, those trips to the airport parking lot, the rides in the child seat he installed on his bicycle, my first binoculars, my desire to fly.

I can fly now.

Well, not right now, because I’m writing this while I sit in class and listen to my professor discuss the importance of integrity and understanding oneself. Ironic.

They say that the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m not sure who they is, but I concur with the sentiment.

Breaking up into small groups now, though…

Like I said, I can fly now. I have my commercial pilot’s license–and I’m not really sure how I’m going to use it. I like flying, but I never felt like I quite fit the community; I had pilot friends, sure, but I’ve seemed to feel much more at home in my community of friends that studied the humanities. That’s probably why Mr. Reesman, someone that possessed his Master’s degree in psychology and was working toward his doctorate in the same field, was my favorite professor in the department. It probably didn’t hurt that he used to be an instructor for flying my favorite airplane of all-time (the F-15, by the way).

Now, I’m pursuing my Master’s in professional counseling. That professor’s daughter is in one of my classes. I like to fly, but I’d rather know why a human wants to fly.

My desire? Well, it’s always been to change the world. The intended method? Changes everyday