Powerful as Fireworks
Almost a week ago, I went on a retreat for a day with a boy and a few bags of trail mix --which, might I add, literally turned into trail mix as he kept throwing bits of the deadly thing at me.
Whatever, I love him so I guess it's okay.
At the start of our off-trail hike, I became stuck. Irrationally and quite physically stuck... on a rock... maybe ten minutes in...
What a blow to pride. Just seconds earlier I was prancing down a trail screaming "we are mountain folk!" only to be terrified of the foundation.
Blindly, I was following him across different stepping stones and around trees but when he elegantly leaped from one stone to the other as if the very clouds above us plucked him from the ground, I woke up. I saw that we were on a slope, that the ground under us was sliding, that there was a large gap between the two stones, that there was an unpleasant landing under us, that there was only up that looked easy, and that there was no way in HELL was I continuing leaping across rocks. So my stubborn self sat. Still, hugging in my knees and phone looking ahead at the trail we stepped off of. I resented myself for even listening to him. I cursed at the rock under me. I nearly crawled on all fours to reach a tree next to me.
Fucking mountain folk. My hands are a stream as I type this.
I told him to go on without me. He sighed, he waited, he offered my his hand to cross, he jumped back and forth from rock to rock, he pouted, he sat, and then up and left.
If he could do the jump so freely multiple times on a busted knee, how could I --with nearly undamaged legs --barely inch off of the stone?
The ultimate metaphor of life, being stuck between a rock and a hard spot, was laughing in my face. A METAPHOR laughing at a WRITER.
Recently, my father offered me a position in his business but I had to swear on attending school for Healthcare Administration. My tuition would be paid for and my career would be secure. But recently, I have been struggling with education altogether.
Shocking coming from someone who reads articles all day at work and at homing learning more about the potential underwater ocean in between the crust and mantle that pumps water to our known oceans as well as which investments should be made at what time. Someone who would rather sleep in a bookstore only to be greeted with covers again is having a tough time subsiding to the educational system with traditional textbooks and rigid viewpoints.
I want to further my education and receive a masters in something but frankly, I'm terrified. Terrified I will fall behind in school work and clog my brain with pointless worries. Terrified I won't have enough money to continue learning. Terrified I will mess up.
And there on the rock, all of my fears materialized. I was worrying about my mother nearly two hours away from me thinking she would never see me again and that I was a terrible daughter for hiking off-trail despite the fact that my mother does not hike. I was terrified of falling down the slope to a dirt covered landing where the sun would shine against my corpse making my failure blunt and obvious. I was terrified because I was alone at the verge of tears looking at trees hoping they would give me an answer.
But then, the boy came back. He sat next to me and attempted to encourage me to move.
But mind you I am very stubborn so when he screamed "get up", I curled my legs more shaking my head 'no'.
Eventually, after him saying he wanted us to be in the valley rather than just him and that the sun would set and the slope would be even more dangerous and pointing out my irrational fear, I got up. I slid my ass down the rocks and ended up leading for part of our trail.
I didn't get up out of fear. Sure, that was a strong factor but fear made me sit down. I got up because he came back. Him waiting with me to calm my nerves was the most empowering thing. He didn't give up even though I gave him the opportunity to many times.
There is something incredible about being loved. There is something so empowering about holding that person's hand and feeling every nerve ending in your own body spring to action as though revived by an electric shock. There is something eye-opening about them waiting for you to move mentally to be with you physically.
Patience is part of it but dedication it the hard hitting lining. He knew I had the power to move and he knew that I would. Him believing in me was enough to make me believe in myself.
We are all holders of such greatness and talent. Silly things like obligations created out of 'following the norm' bog us down. Corporations and their viscous ruling of capitalism depress us. How can I be Anastasia Zhivotov when my employee number is 15? When I am a number?
Whatever, I love him so I guess it's okay.
At the start of our off-trail hike, I became stuck. Irrationally and quite physically stuck... on a rock... maybe ten minutes in...
What a blow to pride. Just seconds earlier I was prancing down a trail screaming "we are mountain folk!" only to be terrified of the foundation.
Blindly, I was following him across different stepping stones and around trees but when he elegantly leaped from one stone to the other as if the very clouds above us plucked him from the ground, I woke up. I saw that we were on a slope, that the ground under us was sliding, that there was a large gap between the two stones, that there was an unpleasant landing under us, that there was only up that looked easy, and that there was no way in HELL was I continuing leaping across rocks. So my stubborn self sat. Still, hugging in my knees and phone looking ahead at the trail we stepped off of. I resented myself for even listening to him. I cursed at the rock under me. I nearly crawled on all fours to reach a tree next to me.
Fucking mountain folk. My hands are a stream as I type this.
I told him to go on without me. He sighed, he waited, he offered my his hand to cross, he jumped back and forth from rock to rock, he pouted, he sat, and then up and left.
If he could do the jump so freely multiple times on a busted knee, how could I --with nearly undamaged legs --barely inch off of the stone?
The ultimate metaphor of life, being stuck between a rock and a hard spot, was laughing in my face. A METAPHOR laughing at a WRITER.
Recently, my father offered me a position in his business but I had to swear on attending school for Healthcare Administration. My tuition would be paid for and my career would be secure. But recently, I have been struggling with education altogether.
Shocking coming from someone who reads articles all day at work and at homing learning more about the potential underwater ocean in between the crust and mantle that pumps water to our known oceans as well as which investments should be made at what time. Someone who would rather sleep in a bookstore only to be greeted with covers again is having a tough time subsiding to the educational system with traditional textbooks and rigid viewpoints.
I want to further my education and receive a masters in something but frankly, I'm terrified. Terrified I will fall behind in school work and clog my brain with pointless worries. Terrified I won't have enough money to continue learning. Terrified I will mess up.
And there on the rock, all of my fears materialized. I was worrying about my mother nearly two hours away from me thinking she would never see me again and that I was a terrible daughter for hiking off-trail despite the fact that my mother does not hike. I was terrified of falling down the slope to a dirt covered landing where the sun would shine against my corpse making my failure blunt and obvious. I was terrified because I was alone at the verge of tears looking at trees hoping they would give me an answer.
But then, the boy came back. He sat next to me and attempted to encourage me to move.
But mind you I am very stubborn so when he screamed "get up", I curled my legs more shaking my head 'no'.
Eventually, after him saying he wanted us to be in the valley rather than just him and that the sun would set and the slope would be even more dangerous and pointing out my irrational fear, I got up. I slid my ass down the rocks and ended up leading for part of our trail.
I didn't get up out of fear. Sure, that was a strong factor but fear made me sit down. I got up because he came back. Him waiting with me to calm my nerves was the most empowering thing. He didn't give up even though I gave him the opportunity to many times.
There is something incredible about being loved. There is something so empowering about holding that person's hand and feeling every nerve ending in your own body spring to action as though revived by an electric shock. There is something eye-opening about them waiting for you to move mentally to be with you physically.
Patience is part of it but dedication it the hard hitting lining. He knew I had the power to move and he knew that I would. Him believing in me was enough to make me believe in myself.
We are all holders of such greatness and talent. Silly things like obligations created out of 'following the norm' bog us down. Corporations and their viscous ruling of capitalism depress us. How can I be Anastasia Zhivotov when my employee number is 15? When I am a number?
Simple.
I have to believe in myself like the boy who loves me does. He saw something in me on that rock past my sappy face to hike with me on an even steeper slope. The power is in me and has never left. The whole point of being is to make mistakes. If I didn't get up and get my ass dirty, I would have never seen what beauty his irises have when sunlight hits them or Ganesha in the trees.
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