The Weight of Gravity

I spent this morning trying to fix a loose shelf in the kitchen. I kept dropping the screws, and my hands felt clumsy, heavy with the frustration of things not going quite right. It made me think about how much of our adult lives is spent trying to stay upright, trying to keep our balance on solid ground. We are so careful, so measured, always watching our step to avoid a fall. But then I remembered being seven, when falling wasn’t a failure—it was just part of the game. We would throw ourselves into the grass, limbs tangling and untangling, completely unbothered by the dirt or the bruises. We didn’t care about the physics of the landing; we only cared about the feeling of the air rushing past our ears. When did we decide that being grounded meant staying still? Is it possible to find that kind of freedom again, or have we simply forgotten how to let go of the floor?

Ryszard Wierzbicki has taken this beautiful image titled Somersault on the Beach, which captures that exact, fearless suspension in the air. It is a wonderful reminder of what happens when we stop worrying about the landing. Does this image bring back any memories of your own childhood play?