Some things we wrote in warmer times, but were reminded of when writing about relation. Given the reductionist allure of science to break things into ever smaller pieces, which is a powerful tool, the resultant myopia can leave one out of touch with much larger complex systems. It is as a constellation of complexity that we each move through vastly greater complex systems. We can chose to acknowledge this and be in a state of awareness of our relation to it, or not.

We have huffed and puffed our way to the top of the hill, pausing at the top to catch our breath. Feet on the edge of the rock, new trail tumbling down the other side.

Closing our eyes, we feel the warmth of the sun and the whispers of the wind.

Beside us she opens one eye and tilts her head. Lazily she unfurls a wing and tests how the wind flows against it, before folding it back in and allowing gravity to pull her off into the drop. Opening up, she catches the air and sweeps into the turn.

Below, we are flowing down the trail, mirroring her path and she ours. She is not us, we are not her.

Yet there is a connection, a sprung tension between the above and below. Slowing for a tight turn, we anchor her, pulling her through the reverse in direction. Helping tighten her orbit.
When there are obstacles, she in turn helps in our fight against gravity, pulling up through our bounding to clear rocks and gaps.

All too soon, we reach the bottom. Come to a sharp halt. Braking faster than she above ever can, the tension becoming too much, connection snapped. She is gone into the distance.

Back to plodding along, we are content. She will wait for us again in the future, some perch, some time…

Sometimes it is lack of awareness that helps. Or maybe, awareness of our insignificance in the greater complexity…

The hill doesn’t care if we are tired or energised.
It doesn’t matter to it how we move, where we go, or how we act.
It hears not our silence or our voice.
It cannot perceive that we think, or how we might even do so.
It matters not how long we linger on it, or even if we live or die.
It doesn’t register what we look like or how we present.
Emotional response is as alien to it, as trying to think at it’s speed.
We are a fleeting speck that it does not register.
It does not see us. It needs nothing from us.
Which means for a time, we do not see us.
Nobody sees us.
In that there is some respite.
It does not always recharge, but it does provide some relief.