Gravity can press you down or open you up, depending on which way your orient yourself to it.
Our instinct is to fight this force. Our first act is defiance; to reach up, push up, stand up. We watch dandelion seeds float away, and envy those who manage to escape it for a moment. Whole economies were built girding structures against it, capturing its potential to make our gears whir. We build audacious towers and glorify those who have not felt its effects on their skin.
We imagine we are flying instead of purposefully throwing ourselves from one place to the next. We forget the earth is constantly binding us to her, that the moon is constantly trying to steal our ocean. We ignore that pull toward the sun, constantly falling around her in rotation. We can’t understand that this force tethers us to things vast beyond our imagining.
We pretend as though we will not all be pressed into the earth one day, every mark we’ve left pulled down behind us.
These notions, along with all the other things we carry, can weigh us down. Too heavy a load and we slow to a halt, our legs breaking beneath us. It can feel impossible to stand, dizzy as we try and our head outpaces our blood. It can win, it will always win.
But not all is lost. Braced against the right things, gravity can open us. When we yield, the force plies our muscles to the ground, giving them softness when we find it in ourselves to stand again. Orient yourself to the light, and gravity takes on a new shape; opening your chest, undoing years of tightness.
Gravity can hunch your shoulders forward or help you pull them back with pride, heart forward. The force is the same either way.