highly sensitive power

Scree slopes of little moments compose the mountains of our relationships. We slide around, grabbing for footholds. We stretch out our arms for balance, fall, and lift handfuls of history.

The ugly dress she wore on the first date. The way he held the hurt bird. The clouds that day. The small bed. Your brother’s letter. The pool. The clock. The dirt.

Over time, after enough falling, the futility of navigation by calculated steps gives way to the joy of the ride. Shoes fill with rubble, arms twirl, the body relaxes and lets go. We make friends with the force of gravity. We abandon the straight line of foresight aimed at the mountain’s base of false safety and, instead, find the sky. We learn to trust our feet.

Though frail, apart, scared, always falling, when we claim this plummet, our sliding dance, we fall together, bound by natural forces.

Flickr photo: Slide Mountain from the side, by Mat Honan.

Related reading: Differentiation and Intimacy

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