yesterday, i fell in love with stand-up paddleboarding. something about holding balance, feeling strong in my core, and rowing evenly on both sides to keep on a straight path. just me, the water, the focus. for a time, i forgot that everything is changing. i forgot about my plans, my thighs, my story. i relaxed.

i’m exhausted by metaphors. by trying to communicate experience in a way that speaks with clarity and respects privacy. my head hurts from it.

and so i defer to my heart. the heavy, cushioned place in the center of my chest that is cracked, sad, longing, and lonely. slightly terrified, hesitantly trusting, and  healing. i am thankful for the guides: the poets, the songwriters, the philosophers, the mystics, those who have come before–all having made strides to translate this shared thing. i am resolved to surrender in my ordinary human angst. in my moment of awakening that is so laughably common and yet still so crucial and mine.

it is my turn, my doorway. obvious and illusory. wide-open and waiting.  asking only that i enter.