The proper way to float

I’ve been living at extremes lately, swinging quickly from crests of euphoria to troughs of desperate anxiety. At the low points, I feel distant from the man I love and from the version of me that he has fallen in love with. At the high points, I feel a giddy certainty about our future and about my own ability to squeeze all possible happiness out of life. This week I am spirited, busy, and letting my mind escape into the stratosphere. My recent changeability, though, has highlighted the challenge of maintaining balance while opposite forces play tug-of-war with my mind and heart. Within a relationship, as in life, neither euphoria nor despair can be sustained for long.

This is not just about a relationship, of course, but about my whole being. If life is a river, I want to be in it; not a balloon floating above the surface, getting carried away by the smallest breezes (and inevitably snagging on a tree branch). Not a heavy, basaltic stone that can’t help but sink to the bottom; riverbed stones do eventually complete the slow journey from headwaters to mouth, but are tumbled and bruised relentlessly as the water rushes past. I want to be a pumice stone, light enough to float with the current and stay in constant touch with the supportive, adhesive surface of water. Feeling every ripple, getting caught in the occasional eddy, and letting life infiltrate my pores.

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