Waves

There I was, sitting silent and still, watching the ground fade away, then return. Every last blade of grass flowed together in a fluid, synchronized motion. The surrounding flowers and trees seemed to share my apprehention. They breathed with me. Swelling with air and confidence at every inhale... Then deflating with doubt and fear with my escaping breath.

With nowhere to go I felt the strongest urge to leave. I had to try. I had no choice but to trust on the tiniest glimmer of hope hiding in the back corner of my mind, telling me that one cannot sink into grass, dirt and stone like one may sink into the darkest, deepest ocean. I suppose I knew that. I must have known... But there the ground was. And there the ground wasn't. I was sure it was taunting me, daring me to call it on its bluff, only to let me sink deep into the ever-changing, submerging waves of grass.

I stepped into it. On the way down I experienced, not for the first time, that kind of sad and slow surreal decent into madness. But there I stood, perfectly grounded and stable on the grassy path in the garden.

Welcome back, Emily.