One of the great joys of my younger life has been flying in my glider. There was nothing quite like it—the silence, the solitude, and the feeling of being lifted into the heavens by forces greater than myself. Unlike powered flight, where engines roar and fuel burns to force one into the sky, gliding is a different experience altogether. It is a flight of trust, of surrender, of partnership with the wind.
The moment the towline releases, the glider becomes dependent on what cannot be seen. Invisible currents, rising thermals, and gentle breezes determine the flight. And yet, rather than fear, what comes is peace—a recognition that I am not alone. In those moments, I often felt I was being lifted by the very hand of God.
Soaring is not only a kind of flight—it is a powerful symbol for the spiritual journey. In it, I see reflected the truths of scripture, the lessons of A Course in Miracles, and the timeless invitation to rise above the noise of the world and discover the silence of Spirit.
The Gift of Silence and Solitude
When I flew, the silence of the cockpit was profound. No engine noise, no distractions, only the gentle sound of wind over the wings. This silence became a mirror of the silence within the soul. It reminded me of the psalmist’s words: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Stillness is not empty; it is full of presence.
In that silence, I could listen. The world below, with its endless chatter and conflicts, became small. The horizon stretched endlessly, and for a time, I felt the vastness of creation. Similarly, A Course in Miracles reminds us that the ego thrives on noise, but the Holy Spirit speaks in stillness: “The very fact that the Holy Spirit has been given you is the proof that you need not be content with what you see. He can raise your sight to see beyond it, to behold what He sees” (T-11.VIII.9:6-7).
Soaring taught me that silence is not absence, but Presence. In solitude, I was never truly alone. The same Spirit that lifted me in the air also lifted my mind toward God.
The Power of Surrender
Unlike powered flight, a glider has no engine. It cannot force its way upward; it must surrender to the currents. This surrender is not weakness but wisdom. The pilot learns to read the air, to sense where lift is found, and to trust that the unseen can carry him.
Life itself works much the same way. We often think our strength, our effort, our control, is what keeps us aloft. Yet over and over, we are reminded that it is not by our power alone that we rise. “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles” (Isaiah 40:31). Waiting upon the Lord is not passive—it is the deep surrender that allows us to be lifted by God’s strength, not our own.
ACIM echoes this in its teaching that our salvation comes not by our striving but by our willingness to release control: “Into His Presence would I enter now. This is the day that has been chosen as the time when I would seek and find the certain goal. Today I will not seek for idols. Father, I come to You” (W-pI.157.1:1-5). Surrendering the ego’s need for control is like releasing the towline; we discover the freedom of being carried.
Perspective from Above
From the heights, the world below looks different. Boundaries disappear. The lines dividing fields vanish, nations are invisible, and the earth is revealed as one whole. How symbolic this is for our vision of each other. At ground level, we see division: races, nations, political parties, even religions. But from the higher vantage point, these divisions fade.
Paul reminded the Galatians, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). From the perspective of Spirit, there is no division, no separation.
ACIM emphasizes the same truth: “The holiest of all the spots on earth is where an ancient hatred has become a present love” (T-26.IX.6:1). From above, we can see differently. We are invited to rise in vision, to see not with the body’s eyes but with the eyes of Christ, who sees only oneness.
Soaring became for me a living parable of vision. To rise above is not to escape but to see truly.
Freedom and Humility
Soaring gave me a profound sense of freedom—the ability to rise within the turbulence, to escape the noise, to fly where the Spirit carried me. But it also instilled humility. For in flight, I was never the master. I was always a guest of the wind, dependent on what I could not control.
This dual lesson is also at the heart of spiritual life. Freedom comes not from control but from release. Jesus said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). But truth requires humility. ACIM explains, “Humility is strength in this sense only: to recognize and accept the fact that you do not know is to recognize and accept the fact that He does know” (T-16.I.6:4).
As the glider is carried by the unseen, so we too are sustained by what we cannot see but can trust. Every breath, every heartbeat, is not of our own making. We live by the grace of God.
The Hand That Lifts
Perhaps the deepest symbolism of soaring is in the recognition that I was always lifted. I could not make the air rise, yet I was carried by it. Similarly, I cannot make grace happen, yet I am lifted by it daily.
ACIM teaches: “God’s Will for you is perfect happiness” (W-pI.101.1:1). To accept this is to trust the Hand that lifts us above the struggles of the world. The glider soars because the air holds it. We soar because Love holds us.
Even when we descend, when flight ends and the glider returns to earth, the memory of having been lifted remains. That memory is like faith—it reminds us that what carried us before will carry us again.
The Invitation of Soaring
Soaring is an invitation. It invites us to rise above the turbulence of the world, to surrender control, to embrace silence, to see with higher vision, to be humbled by our dependence on God, and to rejoice in the freedom that comes from trust.
When I think of soaring now, I see more than wings and sky. I see a symbol of Spirit’s invitation: to release, to rise, and to rest in the certainty that we are held by Love.
As ACIM gently assures us, “The Holy Spirit asks only this little help of you: Whenever your thoughts wander to a special relationship which still attracts you, enter with Him into a holy instant, and there let Him show you the difference” (T-15.V.11:1). Soaring is that holy instant—the moment we rise above the smallness of the world and glimpse the vastness of God.
Closing Reflection
Flying in my glider was one of the purest joys of my life. Yet the greater joy is in realizing the symbol it carried. For just as the glider rose on invisible currents, so do we rise on unseen grace. Just as silence opened space for Presence, so does quieting the mind invite God. Just as soaring gave perspective from above, so can Spirit lift our sight beyond division into unity.
To soar is to live the lesson of trust. To be carried is to accept that Love is enough. And to remember soaring is to remember that, though we walk the earth, we are always lifted by the same Hand that holds the heavens.
robert@dinojamesbooks.com