Holding

February 6, 2014

Sitting still in a quiet room vulnerability came out to play. It danced down the side of her cheek in a tear that glistened like a variegated prism. It laughed and tumbled in the cracks her mouth made when she cried out “it was the first time and it was almost too much.”

We were silent too, watching the unfurling of a friend as tendrils of need spread in all directions. We could’ve just sat there, mired in the palpable dread of “what have I done?” and “what do you say or do?”

But we didn’t. We inhaled her broken spirit and worries. Sixteen eyes held her up while she melted into the experience of feeling overwhelmed and covered in doubt.  When the flood of tears receded and her body relaxed into the moment, we let her go with a long full exhale.

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