Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Writing for five minutes.
A sort of writing flash mob.
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The only way to pull this off is for me to willingly choose to lose my footing. Otherwise, it is no different than being pushed off the edge.
I don't want to be pushed.
But, in order to tilt slant I have to let the total of who I am pitch over itself. It means plunging headlong towards the bottom of the murky depths, despite my fears of what lies beneath.
I have to let what is known beneath my toes give way to nothingness.
And then, for a moment, there will be freedom.
For that in-between space, the one where I am neither on land or in water, it is just like that first day. That journey between darkness and light when I burst forth this side of heaven with a splash? It, too, was the yoke between the known and the unknown.
Only, this time, I must risk becoming unseen.
For the flipside of leaping is a necessary descending.
But that arc? It is just part of one big cosmic circle and so there will be a rising.
My face will split the waters and I will breathe again.
"If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking."
-John Mark McMillan
