Slowly, then all at once
An avalanche starts from stillness. Then seemingly something from nothing, in defiance of Newton’s first law: a tiny movement. That fistful of snow slides gently down the slope and affects its neighbors. They gradually wake and jostle and ripple. Suddenly, whole sheets of snow that appeared permanently affixed to the mountain are pulling loose and beginning to cascade. In a blink, everything white is tumbling down in a mighty wave, kicking up pearly debris. Nothing is still. Everything is rushing, crushing, consuming.
The past six months marched while I stood frozen. Mornings were slow, nights dragged on. Weekends were repetitive. Holidays came and went, birthdays too. Then, in a split second, I was sprinting. I only noticed the match had been lit after I was already cannonballing down the mountain. This is the express train and it’s not stopping anytime soon.
I struggle to understand how life can be so abrupt, but I welcome the change of pace.