Originally published Thursday, 02 May 2019. SHARE The mountain we climbed was high and you led me, dirt between your fingers even while it crumbled, breaking in bits as our arms stretched one after another toward a finger crack or lock on the crux. We had no equipment with us no rope, no anchors, but your eyes were on me, asking me to trust you, not by what you said but how you looked: Move forward, move up, it is a facade that things are breaking, you get stronger with every foothold, your muscles holding you for each precarious step. It is time to break away now from what feels safe, which is an illusion, really, for what is safe and what isn’t worth risk? This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com SHARE
