The Brink

I found this picture from 2008 (?). It is of me and my friend Gail on the Hood River in the NWT. There is something that struck me about my posture…leaning towards what lies below. Which by the way is a massive, mist-spewing waterfall. This was a slippery place, full of the potential for sliding towards death by rocky impact and water-pummeling. The rocks were deadly slippery, wet, slick and sloping in all directions. 

But I lean towards it, this precipice. 

I aspire to be brave. Not just in the physical sense. I know I am that. I am relatively fearless, blessed or cursed with that youthful sense of invincibility. It’s somewhat tempered since my twenties, but not appreciably. 

It is possible we are our own best teachers, if we care to notice. Our past selves have messages for our present selves. Insights, leading questions, inspirations, truths, invitations.

There is something here that reminds me of courage of the spirit and heart. It is like my body, captured in this photograph, is a missive to my 6 years later self. The way I am standing speaks of a bravery that I was not aware I had at the time. My heart is forward, as they say in the yoga circles. I am daring something to come get me. Curious, and stretching to see what lies beyond, beneath. I have one foot forward, the weight perhaps more on my toes than my heels and another one stabilizing me on the wet stone. Perhaps ready to reel back if needed. I am inviting the spray, the raw power of that plummeting river to drench me. I am asking to be invited to the river.
I am arcing forward more than back.

There is also something here about keeping my feet on solid ground. Wanting to be touched and enveloped by things magical and powerful, but also to remain in place, grounded.