I was walking the tightrope of my mind watching both sides very carefully. Maybe too carefully. Constantly aware of each possibility as situations rose and flew by.
I recently spoke of a precipice knowing that I do not know how to climb but falling comes easy.. Flying, however is what I really wanted to try. A situation flew at me and I grabbed at it with all my might as it forced me off my tightrope, off my precipice. It moved me all the way to one side of the graph in an exponential pattern. Like someone put a magnet to my cathode ray. My electrons moved sharply to the left. I thought for a moment that I was flying but falling is what it was actually. I fell and fell but the ground never came. I kept waiting for the slap of the earth against my body but instead I was free falling with no consequence.
A rope appeared to me and I pushed at it not wanting to acknowledge. It danced around me as my hair whipped around my face in the wind of the free fall but I didn’t look at that rope. I wanted to fly on my own. I didn’t want a stupid rope. I wanted wings.
I’ve read emotions that make your soul sing are good and emotions that pull at you in a distorted fashion are bad. But what if they are both? My soul sang in union with my heart but I was exponentially pulled from my perfectly formed perch of balance.
After twirling in the wind, getting tossed around and around I got tangled up into the rope. I pulled at it as it twisted around me. I tried to shake it but it was now part of me. it embedded itself into me. it wrapped all around me in a strangely comfortable way. It offered strength and support. I found myself standing a slight distance off my precipice, just standing there with no real substance under me but held firmly in place.
I stand here between happy and sad, grief and relief, resentment and appreciation in a little place which is at coordinate (1, -1) not (0, 0).
