In our relationships with language, knowledge and identity, we are a bit like birds untrained to flight. We have wings, but do not understand and have rarely if ever used them. Of acrobatics we know precious little. When we leap from high places, we generally plummet. We think this to be adequate performance.

But we are made for flight. For experiences of learning and discovery too dynamic and profound to fit within any of our representations. And we have something analogous to this in dreaming and art, both of which insist upon the return of polyphony to the dimension of identity. But before we can fly, we must begin by realizing that we are crawling. Then perhaps we can together begin to rediscover the wings our minds conserve.

And what they were made for.