I have accepted the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight will we force our wings to unravel and, alas, begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. We may not know where we're going, but we know that the winds will carry us someplace lovely as long as we spread our wings.
A cage is nice only when it is empty.