Life in a bottle. Can you imagine? It would be very tight in there, and orbular? I fear I might have made that word up so lets switch it to circular, and if any greater, or atleast larger than your bottle, being had the urge they could plunder and disturb your opaque life. Instead I say we live in a hot air balloon, a sea shell, a piano bench. Life appears in perfect packages ready to take hold of. Every breath deserves a standing ovation for you did it, you took one more gulp of life giving oxygen, you are surviving. In the suburbs and urban villages of Utah, Alaska, Tokyo, anywhere, you live. In a cushioned bed, with a fluffy coach, and art splattered across the walls. We redecorate  moderately and sometimes go for a spree if we would like to live on the edge for a minute. A few of us in a moment of chicanery even jump out of a moving plane for kicks, attempting to fight and make peace with gravity all at once. I do not mind this life of living, I have always thoroughly enjoyed it but every now and then I get a sniff of what it means to survive, and I crave it. For example, the greatest adventurers of our day consciously, and tentatively put their lives on the line and we revere them, we acknowledge their success in surviving to find life. Now how does that work? Well let me tell you a secret. They must be doing the things that scare them the most. As the ever wise Dumbledore once said, "Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself."And it must for we fanatically fear the most outrageous things and that fear envelops us. But it is learning to cope and address fear, to make it your friend that is the act of valor. Not always fighting it, but accepting it. Make friends with the world about you and she will open her heart you, and who can know what you will find!

 Laugh in the face of danger. Survive. Fight with a will to live. Love. Help someone else to fly.