Falling, Falling, Falling

Falling, Falling, Falling When I think about falling, I have a fluttering in my stomach and my heart begins to race. My palms sweat and my mouth goes dry. I don't necessarily have a fear of heights. I just have a fear of falling from those heights. In that moment, while I am pondering a leap, I can vividly imagine the mind-numbing, body-shattering sensation of slamming into the ground far, far below. Sometimes I think about sky diving and think it would be cool. For a moment, I want to try it but then I abruptly halt the idea, given that it would require me choosing to jump out of a plane and freefall for quite some distance. I have a good friend who has done it, said there was nothing like it and highly recommends it. However, there is still the notion of hitting the ground really, really hard that reminds me I am merely human and, while miraculously strong, still quite fragile. I have always been curious about the terminology tagged with the sensation of being "in love." It implies there is a fall required to get there... Fall in love. Falling in love. Fell in love. Perhaps the reason this terminology came into being is because "falling in love" really can feel like falling from a mountain cliff. Palms sweat. Hearts race. Stomachs churn. There are moments when one cannot think clearly and everything becomes misty in a fog of love. It's hard to see during this time and people place one another upon really high pedestals, from which they eventually will have to fall. Falling in love requires looking at one another and seeing only perfection, refusing to see the flaws that tend to start creeping into sight and lead to the fall from high places. It's difficult to continually sustain "falling in love" because the word "falling" connotates that, at some point, there will be a landing. I am sure you have heard it said - or maybe even experienced it yourself - what has happened here, where has the love gone? There are ebbs and flows in "falling in love" and when the "falling in love" part of the relationship has ebbed, it can leave one feeling empty or lost. There is a rush in that fall. There is adrenaline. There is something to become addicted to. So we "fall in love" and then, when we land, we can run together - or without the other - toward the edge and leap again, just to feel that rush. There is never a moment to settle; just a continuous rush and leap, rush and leap. Exhaustion sets in and the rose glasses slide down the nose glistening with perspiration and... what's this... who ARE you? Thus the pedestal tips and we fall from grace. People fall all the time. They fall from high places. They leap from burning buildings. They willingly jump from planes. And they fall in love. Many of these people survive - some, even completely intact without a scratch to be seen. Others, however, shatter bones and hearts and are left weeping away their life's fluids openly upon the thirsty ground. Love is really about bringing out the best in one another, lifting one another up and strengthening one another. At its true core, love is about wholeness. Is falling really the best way to do that? When a relationship that has started out in such a way is over, there is a lot of broken stuff... Broken dreams. Broken union. Broken home. Broken promises. Broken hearts. Could it be that these things get broken from the fall alone? When it comes to love, I wonder, could there be a better way to start? What would happen if we were to start on an even ground and grow in love? In this manner, the motion of the relationship would build a strong foundation. Instead of the jolting rush of free-fall in the beginning, there would be sustainability and solidness. There would be something tangible to hold onto, a strength and a certainty that the ground was not going to suddenly disappear. I imagine that growing in love would result in a living, breathing energy that would envelop both partners together. I imagine that starting this way would create wholeness, even if the relationship were to end. And, I imagine that were this to happen, both partners would walk away whole, with the ground solid beneath them, if and when the time came to say goodbye. © Angie K. Millgate 1/02/08