Precipice

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Precipice

I’m standing at the edge, fidgeting with thoughts of jumping and turning back. Winds of change whoosh around me, threatening to push me. But I know they cannot. Falling is voluntary. I have to make the choice. I’ve come to edge, but I dither.

I take a step and the ground beneath crumbles into rubble and falls, pebbles bash repeatedly against the rocks like bouncy balls until they reach their end. Down below, a river gushes angrily, lashing against anything that has the ill-luck to come in its way. Storm clouds are gathered above it. Typical change!

When I look into the distance, these turbulent waters meet the sea and find solace. The waters in the distance are blue and tranquil. They’ve found their rhythm, their new routine.

I know if I fall, I just have to keep afloat until I reach the calm seas. But the initial turbulence scares me. There is so much about me that will change and yet nothing will. My nationality will get a new ‘an’. A move to a new country, a new continent beckons. I will be uprooted yet again. I will unlearn and learn yet again.

Why did I come this far, all the way to the edge? I remember someone pushing me out of my box of comfort. When I look back, I see myself. A version of myself who wished for something to happen, who wished for a break from routine. 

There are moments of extreme excitement but once they pass, all I want is to run back into the comfortable bosom of status quo.

I have to decide. It’s now or never. Stop fidgeting and jump. “Take the leap,” my brain urges. The heart however, wants to run back, get the piece of myself I left in that box. But there’s no time for that. Everything around me is crumbling fast. Change is the only constant.

To muster courage, I take deep breaths and roll my shoulders. But really, I’m doing everything I can to delay the jump. I hear a low tinkling, like a wind chime in a salubrious breeze. It’s a little green glass bottle with a cork stopper. It looks like it came straight out of a medieval apothecary. It’s lying flat on the ground near my feet.

The label on it reads ‘Liquid Strength’ in beautiful cursive handwriting. I peek into the contents of the bottle. In the dancing green potion, I see the darling faces of my family, my very own brew of liquid strength.

I take a long, deep swig, close my eyes and jump. The winds of change toss me around like a feather in the wind. I don’t know where they’ll take me but I embrace them and hold on tight.

5 thoughts on “Precipice

  1. Cara H (The Real Cie)

    My brother is a much bolder sort than I am. In his younger days he engaged in activities such as sky diving, hang gliding, and rock climbing. Me, I hate it when my car has to stop on an overpass. Or an underpass.
    Thank you for visiting me at Crazy Creatives Cheerleading Camp.

    Reply
  2. Cara Hartley

    Apologies if this is a duplicate comment. My other one got sent to Spam. I tend to have trouble commenting on WordPress blogs.
    My younger brother is a much bolder person than I am. Before he injured his back falling off a ladder truck (he was a firefighter/paramedic) he used to partake in activities such as hang gliding, sky diving, and rock climbing.
    As for me, I tend to freak out if I have to stop on an overpass. Or an underpass.
    Thank you for visiting me at Crazy Creatives Cheerleading Camp.

    Reply

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