Cleared for Takeoff
How Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly" inspired me to keep trying
"Learning to Fly" is my most favorite song of all time, and I really needed it today after an experience that made me feel like Icarus flying too close to the sun. I listened to it on a loop, my heart feeling a little bruised and battered, as I spiraled into doubt—questioning my ability to be a storyteller at all.
The reason for my disappointment is that I received a rejection from a literary manager regarding a script that's very close to my heart: "...your command of voice is evident. There’s a classic Americana flavor that reminds me of a favorite of mine, O Brother, Where Art Thou? and your dialogue flows naturally and with humor. Where I’d encourage a closer look is..."
This experience of coming so close to victory I can feel it-- and yet it somehow remaining out of reach-- is something I've experienced time and time again. The easiest thing to do is to give up when I feel discouraged, and I have to admit that this is indeed a path I've taken in the past, especially in regard to putting my work out there.
However, in listening to the lyrics of "Learning to Fly" again, I feel encouraged to keep trying, even after crashing back down to the earth in a painful spiral.
"Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to find my way home
Unladen, empty, and turned to stone
A soul in tension that's learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try"
And this is what makes "Learning to Fly" so magical-- it can spin disappointment into hope. This is the song's high yellow note-- its bright, transcendent tone of uplift beneath the ache. It captures that sense of yearning within our heart as we strive to reach our goals, and it inspired me to frame my disappointment in a new way.
In spite of the fact that I didn't get the results I was hoping for from the lit manager, I saw that he took the time to tell me what he liked and explain what would make my story stronger. This was something I could work with.
This perspective gave me the impetus to say, "This is painful, but I'm going to try again," even as I was flooded with insecurity. It gave me the urge to keep trying even though I'm flying blind-- having no assurance that I'll ever succeed--simply because it's human to strive for achievement, if only so we can grow and evolve.
But maybe next time I won’t remain grounded.
Maybe next time I'll soar.