Sitting on the edge of a cliff, there is a girl. A girl ready to jump into the unknown. She doesn’t quite know what is at the bottom of the cliff, but she has been told that it is safe. And she knows that is true.
She wasn’t always sitting there, so calmly.
When she first came to the cliff, she was all movement and restlessness. She didn’t understand why the cliff was there, why she had to be there.
All she wanted before the cliff was a calm, smooth path through the trees. Maybe an occasional small obstacle, but nothing like this. Nothing that called her to trust like she needs to now.
She thinks she is ready to jump, but it is not time. She knows that it is not time because the rope that ties her to the top of the cliff hasn’t finished unwinding yet.
It is a rope made of old loves that are slowly being released, of dreams that are slipping away, and old identities and stories that don’t fit anymore.
When it is finished unwinding, she’ll jump. When she lands, maybe she’ll make new ties. Maybe this time it won’t be a rope, but rather roots.
She doesn’t know.
All she knows is that when the time comes, she’ll leap.
And maybe this time, she’ll actually be ready to do it.
Jenny Guilford / Jena Ren, 2021