It Happens in Phases
I sit in an open office 5 days a week for about 8+ hours.
Unless I step out for lunch or to do an errand in which case I'd call it 7+ hours.
And with each day there are prevailing and passing moods.
A sense of belonging
A sense of futility
A desire to dance
A desire to sing
A desire to hug people
A feeling of fuck-you-go-to-hell ness
Today I felt weightless. Like I was entirely disconnected from the ground, the world, everyone around me, everyone I know. With the smallest push I would lift away from my chair, my desk, and float through the ceiling up up up up into the void. And no one would hear me calling to them. No one would see me so far away and so deep in the dark of space and I would start to expand and pull apart in the vacuum of space, pieces of me pulled towards other things. And I thought to myself, "I have no one to tether me. No one to pull me back if I push off. What can I grab onto?"
It was strange and scary. And I thought to myself, "It's just me. I have to stop myself, keep myself from drifting away." And I looked around and couldn't find anything to hold onto. Nothing to anchor me. And I tried to think of who I could call. If I called you, for instance, and asked you: "What you do on the days that you forget to pay the gravity bill?" What would you say? What is it that holds you in place and to the ground? A person? A promise? A thought or belief? A thing? A memory? A really big rock? What? If anything ...
I looked around me and everything seemed so distant and transient. And I thought about how if I could make a sound, if I could articulate this thing happening to me an ask for help, someone might turn to me and say "Grab my hand! I got gravity to spare this month."
I thought about how I needed to confer weight to myself and everything in my life. I thought about how I needed to take the wisps of life in my hands and see them weighty and meaningful - significant. Because right now no one else will. Perhaps no one else is supposed to.
In a world light on meaning, what imparts significance comes from the minds and hearts of its inhabitants.
Over the course of the day I could feel it passing.
I hover a little but I can feel that my soles are making decent contact with the floor.
I am still here. I put a wrench in my pocket. In case the gravity gives out again. I want to have something to throw to help propel me back down.