The Top Stair

I grew up in a two story home. And because of the second floor, I have a particular attachment to one place - the top stair.  I know...strange place to have an affection.  It's not a favorite couch or porch swing, or even something like a nice soothing bathtub where stress drains away. Instead it's small and not particularly forgiving on the rear, but it's a special place to me.

It's funny how, until yesterday, I never realized my attachment to this common yet unique niche.  But I found myself seeking solace there as I coped with some things going on in my life.  Something about it made it easier to release...to open up and let whatever came come. When I realized how much being at this pinnacle, this threshold before entering the seclusion and privacy of bedrooms or the first step before venturing back down to the world below, felt so safe, it made be think.  And thus I write.

The top stair.  What a dynamic place to be. In many ways it the summit of a home.  It's a place anything can happen.  It's where you change from one state to the next...am I upstairs or down?  It's a place where, if only for a moment, we commit to taking that next step, whether up or down.  It's where two worlds merge, even collide, and combine to make something.  To change something. To understand something. 


Yesterday, as I cried, prayed, thought, reflected on some important matters, it was my place. 

It is on this stair where I find my mind can focus and clear. It is on this stair where anything can begin and end. It is on this stair where I started and finish this post.