The traumas she holds, constantly sink her to the bottomless depths of the ocean’s abyss. When she looks up, all she sees are ripples and waves. Rarely any light.

My job – a coach, a partner, a lover, a friend, is to fish her out with enough finesse, that I can fling her high enough, that she can move through it, and see above it, and realize she can easily fly as the dolphins do. That her ceiling is not to know total control over being dragged by the forces of the unworthy. That her ceiling is only as high as she is willing to fly, once she braces for change.