Measure twice, rick once. Then risk again. Life’s became rote, she wrote. When laying flat is a radical act, we need rest, but so much more than that. Less clamor, more calm. Our cures are far less complex than our ailments. Our basest needs oft-neglected by our ceaseless deeds. Food and water, sun on skin, deep breath and rest, time to feel what you’re in. Allow yourself to be confounded if you’d like to make sense of much at all.
Seek to transcribe any transcendence into daily life; there’s more fertile ground in the lowlands than on peaks above. Be thankful for the chance to challenge yourself on the climb, and use such views to plot the lay of that land. Sometimes you will crest a ridge and another valley will be in view, laying flat before you. Be present in every sense, aware how time fleets and you’ll again descend. Carry that downhill’s momentum with you and scrub your skin with your own dried salts, at peace with the self you brought up, and in peace as the self that carried you down.