possible

i think i want to write because my windows are open and the presence of recent rain is encouraging. it even rains in the desert, in the summer; so: many things are possible. 

the thought calms. 

i've never liked failing, so i don't spend much time with possible. i prefer probable, i adore definite, i crave absolute, and as a result, i've become a career coward. we all have risk meters sewn into our hearts--sometimes they're called comfort zones--and though i have no idea how they are calibrated so differently for each of us, i understand perfectly when i've gone too far. possible is outside my comfort zone. i like calculated stretches. 

and yet. i've lately chosen my way to the edge of the cliff, hoping to force a leap or a fall, or most likely, a leap that feels convincingly like a fall right up to the last minute. it's possible.