A delicate order

The world is little more than a delicate layering of power. Those who have it, those who want it, those who trade in it. Whether we think of ourselves as formidable or not, the way we move everyday is defined by an undertow of ascendency. Our simple movements are a black market for any semblance of sovereignty we can get.

Because we always think that someone else has more than us. We make little deals and cash in small moments to credit our ineffectual lives with some predestined weight. And sometimes we know someone has more than we do, it looms over us like a mocking game keeper. The ground we stand on quakes with the intangible but all consuming movements of the power around us as it’s given and taken. Like gravity, it’s what molds us to the course of our lives.

For some, it beats us down. Pressing hard upon our shoulders, keeping us fixed in place and time. For others, we can move more freely. The currents are kind to us. But everyday is an assessment, a rundown of where we stand. It’s a tiresome, endless rat race that we’ll never be free of.

But I’m reminded by morning messages from friends how even the ground really is. All of us are afraid of falling, of becoming victim to this artificial gravity’s disapproval. We all assume others are doing better and we all continue to cash in our bad bets for a taste at more power. No matter our circumstances, our humanity will always be the great equalizer. Some of us breathe easier under the sun, but all of us are afraid.

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