Dozens of birds assembled in front of me, surrounding my outstretched arms. They’d come to share their draft. They augmented my lift and speed. Flying felt natural and exhilarating, but this was the first time birds had come to my aid or communicated with me. 

In the magic of my dream, as I returned to earth, I saw a handful of people moving along beneath me, their arms stretched above their heads, supporting my flight. Some were strangers. Others I barely knew. One had struggled through his childhood brain injury but now found fulfillment helping others fly.

My support team conversed among themselves and dispersed as if they’d done it thousands of times and expected nothing in return. I was so grateful for their help.

I awoke with a greater awareness. Sometimes we fail to notice our support team—sometimes they prefer not to be noticed—but we never fly alone. As we sour, let us always honor those who support our flight, and support them in theirs.