cliffs

Everyone everywhere has a cliff, a ledge, a long climb, and awaiting vertigo before them. They have different faces and names, each unique to each person. Call it what you want. Finances, relationships, the void of life in front of us, family issues, your own struggles, hurting, hurting others, the delicate balance of all things in life. They are the places we stand on the precipice of, the lines that are almost or not ever crossed. A place where we kick the rock off once we get to the top and watch it become small and disappear and bend our ears down to hear the faintest concussion of gravity doing its job.

For some of us, getting to the top of the cliff is the hardest part, starting on the trek, climbing gradually, feeling your heavy legs and heavy heart, lungs dying. And for some getting there, staring off at the ends of the world on all sides, just losing yourself in the moment is the conquest. And for others it's the fall, when we take that last step, that first step and we careen down the side.

Sometimes all it takes is the smallest limb, the tiniest root system for us to grab and catch and hold on to for dear life. Once we have reached the tipping point there is no going back. We dangle there, suspended, frozen. All it takes is the smallest word, and we will fall forever. I can feel myself almost always in every form of my life hanging there, contemplating the fall, how much it will hurt, am i willing to hurt that much again. For the longest time I have just sat halfway up the hill on most things, trying to fill that void in my heart with every bad thing I could find. And at the end of that small lonely journey I found myself wrecked and empty, more numb than asleep feet and hands. There comes a time when you grow weary of not feeling, and when feeling presents itself you jump at it, bc it feels so old and shadowy like your grandfather's echo over a small pond. And if I had to do most of my life over a thousand times I would do it just exactly how I have done it. As much as it has hurt or not hurt, or hurt later, it is exactly how it needs to play out. I am no fortune teller, no prophet, I am barely anything, barely hanging on.

But I'd rather be hanging on, than sitting on a stump somewhere wondering what the adventure was like. I think we all want some sort of adventure but guffaw at the idea that life itself is the story. We want big epic stories and great images in our mind, but literally everywhere all the time those things exist. I know when I traveled I have a million stories that I will tell over and over again, but the meat of my story, the big and best parts are the everyday things, the small smiles and little things that remind me of people. We all want life to be a movie, but the best part is is that it is better than a movie. It is real. Doesn't make things easier. I wrote a poem in my head the other day called "someday." but it is much to sad and narcissistic to show anyone. In fact, just talking about it is pretty narcissistic. lol. So it goes.

Just remember, that no matter what, no matter where you are on your own cliffs, that I love you, and that I am there, too. Whether you are hanging there beside me, or not to the top, or staring over the edge, it's good that we are getting somewhere. Fight for your own lives. I always have this saying, when things are awful and the days are always dark, when nothing seems good and everything good seems so far away: 5 years from now, the things that made us cry will make us smile.

It is my mantra. I say it every morning in the mirror. Remind myself that when I do fall, it will hurt. But i'd rather hurt than never feel or fall. It is so human of us. And that is okay. There is hope for a tree cut down, and there is comfort in being human and being loved. Forgive yourselves. That's the hardest part.

Someday.

like a ship at bay

Driving through old parts of towns I once knew so well, seeing the water fall off on the horizon, setting sun, mile markers and speed signs buzzing by my tired eyes. That water looks so peaceful, so safe, small chopping at each other with invisible teeth, but I know the truth, that once you get in over your head it's dangerous business.

There is an old picture of me with my dad at the beach, first time in the water, super white kid in old clothes touching the tiniest film of the ocean on my little toes (how do our toes get so big?!) and I have this expression of utter joy. The first time feeling water like that, but not understanding the ocean in front of me. And for the longest time I'd only skimboard right at the beach, fearing the deeper waters, the dark blue, the inability to touch the ocean floor. It was a downright fear. But I thought being a kid born on a farm just being at the beach was something special. I made my own box, and it was tidy and easy and consisted of low waves and bodysurfing. When I got older I got into swimming, for real swimming, seeing how far I could stretch myself. I was at the beach and made it to the second jetty, and on my way back I saw fins, small fins, pointed at the ends, and I knew they were not dolphins. I was terrified, my breathing no longer at peace, every inch of me wanting to be on that shore, back to what I felt was normal and right and good. But in those terrifying second of catching the tide back, I felt this amazing fear and rush that meant that I was alive.

And I think that is a great thing to have, and to hold on to. If I never swim anywhere pass what I find is safe, then I would never have found that place inside of me. And everyone will always say if Columbus did not brave the idea that the world is not flat, then modern history would be all together different. So it's good to embrace those waves, embrace the chill of something new, of not going back. Of pushing forward, of knowing there might be something out there. We were made like ships at bay. And maybe we might all crash anyway, but maybe not. And that risk, that chance, that try, is all we should try.

So I think about this as we drive over calm seas, or calm as far as I can see. But out there somewhere a storm is raging, and the seas are swelling, and boats are rocking, and people are feeling alive. G-d it feels good to feel that way again. To throw off every normal thought and box I've had and just go for it. Logic is a great thing, and it can take you places, but it is no substitute for the heart and for hard work.

So here I am, in my swim trunks that are a tad bit too short, and the water is cold and looks lifeless with a blank stare at this little pale kid who wants to see what is out there. But this time there is no fear, there is no shore, there is no water. There is just me, standing, facing, and not quitting. There is everyone, we have the opportunity to really try. To not settle, to not fade away into something we don't wanna be. All it takes is the first step.

Baby steps.