Of falling down and getting up

The beginning is exciting. Everything is new. It's like being on a precipice of a cliff where the water below is so invitingly clear and blue, beckoning you to jump and play.

The physical aspect is scintillating. You're getting used to the sensory exchange of sounds, smells, touch and everything chemical. You can't get enough of the proximity of that being. Then before you know it you are hooked. And like every addict, you allow yourself to be led into a paradise-like limbo of sweetness.

A couple of weeks of bliss and then reality starts seeping in. Irritable quirks, unequal pacing, unreasonable demands, passivity, stinginess, withholding pertinent realities, divergent expectations...

And so the downhill trek begins. Like Jack dangling from the beanstalk, you cling on. All the while convincing yourself it is worth holding on to. Until the vine you are holding on to starts to get frayed from your grip. And you loose a foot-hold and the beanstalk gets its final shake and you let go and you fall.

So like a slab of brick you hit the floor and separate in many broken pieces and dust. You lay there still for a while, wondering what happened and how, repeating, rewinding, reviewing, recycling scenarios where it might have been better or worse.

Then as the cloud of dust settles you collect yourself and feel grateful for the solidity of the ground. Then you brush the dust off and rise and trudge along a new path where new adventures lurk in corners awaiting for your discovery.