Hanging off the side of a cliff. A state of being that denotes desperation.
Save yourself! Or at least hang on long enough for someone to help you up! Up over the edge, to safety. Solid ground. Take your time, catch your breath.
For some, the cliff’s edge is life. And it can be pretty good. Best of both worlds! I have roots. I’m able to grow taller branches and provide shelter to the birds and oxygen to the people. My roots are exposed on one side, sure, but that just means i can feel the breeze better – if you know what i’m saying. I know what you’re thinking, another delusional feminist woman that patriarchy has convinced she can have it all. That it’s actually not that bad and there are benefits to feeling unsupported, with an eroded sense of self-esteem. But for many trees, this is just the reality they are dealt. Their seed was sown here, and they have no control over how the elements and creatures will influence its growth. Whether it has access to support from all sides.
Reckoning with control, abundance, acceptance – the call is clear, stand tall, as tall as you can. Taller than you stood yesterday, even if a little beaten by the storm. Even if the winds try to test you and the earth moves beneath your feet. Even if the fires of change threaten the very waters that nourish you.
You were never meant to decide where you were planted, where your roots first sprouted. And yet, here you are. Here, now, with this opportunity to reach further than you did yesterday. To reach toward the light and let it nourish you, even if reaching toward the sun means shifting the sands beneath you. Even if growing taller, stretching wider, means hanging off the side of a cliff. Because with balance, the air that flows beneath your roots, sending vials of adrenaline down your spine, becomes fuel. Energy for you to challenge other parts of you to support the growth, for the collective, not to mention the spectacle. Look at what i can do!
Bored to Death 