One day in 2000 I was skiing at Arapahoe Basin, Colorado, when off in the distance I heard explosions.
“What’s that?” I asked my skiing partner.
“They’re probably launching rockets.”
“Rockets? Why?”
“To cause controlled avalanches to keep the back bowls safe for skiers.”
An avalanche is tremendous energy release, and getting caught in one is a very bad thing. So, it turns out the ski hills cause small avalanches.
The rockets they use for this are not particularly large, but a small explosion in the right place will release just enough energy to get the snow moving. Once it starts, it continues until the excess energy is dissipated, and the snow is safe for skiing.
For the last six or eight weeks I’ve been in a pretty good place. I’ve been:
- doing good work both at my job, and for my writing client.
- getting my sleep under more control than I’ve had for years.
- exercising daily.
- writing and making videos daily
- clearing a bunch of backlogged tasks that have been weighing on me.
In short, my head is clear, and I’ve been doing really well. Until last night, when there was an explosion in just the right place.
It was a small thing, something that’s happened many (too many) times before. Unfortunately so, because it was one of those small energy inputs that releases the huge forces I’m holding at bay.
Just like the rockets that start the avalanche, this small event has opened the demon’s cage.
The grey mist is rolling out, engulfing me, slowing me down, pulling me down, sucking the energy and life from me again.
Now I have to navigate my way through it. I have to try to get to the other side.
Again.
Dammit. I hate this.
