I have been away from The Big Minutae, for a while, because I was busy preparing to fly with wings made up of feathers, wood and wax.  I understand that Icarus didn’t have all that much luck, but you have to give him credit for trying.

And in the end, isn’t that what matters most?  Sure, you could in the attempt of doing something a bit outside of your comfort zone, and–figuratively or literally–crash and burn, but you would become so much more than you were before.

Even if you don’t succeed there’s that to be gained.

And since the only constant is change, isn’t that what we are supposed to do all along?

Cost be damned.


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