Give Me Wings: Why I’d Choose a Pegasus for a Week

If you had to be an animal for a week, which one would you be and why?

If I had to be an animal for a week, I would choose a Pegasus.

The question never said the animal had to be real, so I am taking full advantage of that loophole. I could choose a lion, a dolphin, or a house cat who spends the day sleeping on a windowsill while someone else pays the bills. But if fantasy is allowed, I am not wasting seven days chasing mice or chewing grass.

I want wings.

A flying unicorn would also be acceptable, although the horn might make landing awkward. A giant eagle would give me the view I want, but I am not interested in eating rodents. A dragon would be impressive, but I do not trust myself with fire.

Pegasus feels right.

I could fly across oceans, skim over mountains, circle cities, and stop wherever I wanted. No airport lines. No baggage fees. No delayed flights. No strangers asking me to surrender the aisle seat I selected months earlier.

For one week, I would see the world from above and take my time doing it.

The View Without the Free Fall

I have always wanted to see the earth from the sky without being trapped behind an airplane window.

Skydiving would technically give me that view, but I do not want to admire the landscape while falling toward it at high speed. I want to move slowly enough to notice coastlines, rooftops, rivers, forests, and roads. I want to hover when something catches my attention or while flying above the Pacific Ocean at sunrise.

From the ground, a city can feel loud and crowded. Traffic fills the streets. People rush from one obligation to another. Buildings block the horizon. From above, those same streets become lines, the buildings become shapes, and the city fits inside a much larger landscape.

I think some of my problems would look smaller too.

They would still exist. I would simply see that they are not the entire world.

My Pegasus Travel Plan

I would begin in Los Angeles before sunrise.

I would fly along the coast from Playa del Rey to Malibu, low enough to hear the waves but high enough to see where the ocean meets the city. I would follow the shoreline south, then turn west across the Pacific.

My first stop would be Japan.

I would fly over Tokyo and trace the routes I once traveled by train. I would pass over Meiji Shrine, Shinjuku Gyoen, Harajuku, and Shibuya Crossing. I would look down at the crowds moving through the streets and remember how large Tokyo felt when I was standing inside it.

Then I would fly to Busan.

I would follow the coastline past Haeundae Beach, the bridges, the towers, and the places I visited during the BTS events. I would pass over the island where the Arte Museum was located and congratulate myself for finally reaching it without changing trains, checking maps, or wondering whether I had boarded the wrong bus.

Pegasus does not miss stops.

Pegasus also does not discover too late that the Airbnb reservation ended that morning.

After Korea, I would head to France.

I would fly over Paris, follow the Seine, and continue toward Provence. I would revisit the towns Chris and I explored together and see the roads we traveled from a completely different angle. I would probably find him in London too, although appearing outside his window on a winged horse might require advance notice.

William Blake wrote, “No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.”

I would not technically be a bird, but I would still claim the quote.

I Would Refuse to Rush

My first impulse would be to create a packed schedule.

Seven days. Six continents. Twenty countries. Color-coded route. Backup route. Emergency snacks.

That plan would turn flying into another task to complete.

I would rather choose fewer places and stay long enough to see them properly. I would circle mountains instead of racing over them. I would follow rivers until they reached the sea. I would land in open fields, rest near lakes, and watch the sun move across the sky.

Marcel Proust wrote, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

Travel has taught me that returning to a familiar place can be as meaningful as visiting a new one. The location may stay the same, but I may notice what I missed before. A street I hurried through becomes interesting when I walk it slowly. A view I ignored becomes beautiful when I stop trying to photograph it.

Pegasus Amy would take fewer pictures.

She would still take some, obviously.

But she would also put the phone away.

Soul Insights

1. Distance can expose exaggeration.

Fear has a way of filling the entire frame. A problem can feel enormous when I keep staring at it from the same position. Prayer, travel, time, and honest conversation help me step back. The problem may remain, but I can finally see what surrounds it: options, people, lessons, and the possibility that I will survive it.

2. Freedom still needs direction.

Wings would give me the ability to go almost anywhere, but that does not mean every destination would deserve my time. Freedom without judgment can become another form of chaos. Galatians 5:13 says, “You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.” The freedom I value most is the ability to choose what leads me closer to God, purpose, and the people I love.

3. Wonder begins with attention.

The world does not stop being beautiful when I am distracted. I simply fail to notice it. Rachel Carson wrote, “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.” I do not need wings to practice that kind of attention. I can notice sunlight on the wall, music in another room, the smell of coffee, or the face of a friend telling me a story.

4. Rest belongs inside the journey.

Even a Pegasus would need to land. Flying without stopping would turn the week into exhaustion with scenery. Rest would give me time to absorb what I had seen instead of collecting places and forgetting them. I have learned that experiences often reveal their meaning after I slow down.

5. Some dreams arrive before the method.

I can picture many things before I know how to build them. I can imagine the book, the trip, the course, the video, or the life I want long before I understand the steps. Isaiah 40:31 says, “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles.” God may not hand me literal wings, but He can give me courage, endurance, opportunity, and the next clear step.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the week, I would fly back to Los Angeles.

I would land near the beach, fold my wings, and watch the sunset from the sand. My body would become human again. The airports, traffic, train maps, and carry-on limits would return.

But I hope the view would stay with me.

I would remember how small the freeways looked from above. I would remember that borders are lines drawn on maps, while rivers and mountain ranges ignore them. I would remember that the world is larger than my schedule, my worries, and the few streets I travel each week.

I would also remember that I do not need to become a Pegasus to change my view.

I can step away from a problem. I can travel. I can pray before reacting. I can look up from my phone. I can return to familiar places and pay closer attention. I can stop treating every day as a race I am already losing.

Still, if God ever offers me seven days and a pair of wings, I am packed.

No checked luggage.

No middle seat.

No rodent-based meals.

Call to Action

Which animal would you choose for one week: real, mythical, or completely invented?

Tell me what you would become, where you would go, and what you would want to see from that new point of view.

Soul Path Insights