Sofia sat crouched at the edge of the cliff, muscles tense, senses alert. A wave of vertigo threatened to drown her and she averted her gaze from the valley below. She forced herself to breathe deeply willing herself to relax, muscle by one tiny muscle.
You can do this, she said, slowly, gingerly, stretching out one leg, then the other. An intense urge to draw back to the safety of the ledge hit her again. She fought it down …. again.
She let out a shaky breath which turned into a nervous laugh at this small victory.
She forced herself to look down focusing on the brilliant shades of green. She smiled at the distant cluster of houses, far enough to mute the mundane sounds of everyday life yet offering the comfort of human presence.
With growing confidence, she stretched out her legs, threw back her head and let out a delighted whoop.
This is what she had driven miles for.
This freedom from fear.
It was a birthday ritual – a gift to herself.
And she’d do it again – another year, another fear – she’d demolish them all, one by one.
Happy birthday to me, said she, smiling softly.
Do you have a birthday ritual? What’s your idea of a perfect birthday? Would love to hear about it