The “suddenly” grabs our attention.

sIt shocks us out of our perception of what is “normal” and “regular.” We notice it. We feel the unease. We feel unbalanced as if a huge wave has hit the small canoe in which we find ourselves.

The stomach churns. Or maybe there’s just a “pit,” a void of the unknown promising nothing but eternal darkness and eternal falling.

But the “suddenly” is preceded by the “gradually.”

The subtle shifts. The drip of the water against the stone that we know is there, but have become immune to because, well, it’s always there.

And so we don’t notice it.

But if we do, we know how the story is going to end.

The water will, eventually, crack the rock. The first 5 million drops don’t matter, but the 5,000,0001st gets the job done.

And then it becomes the “suddenly.”

The “suddenly” grabs our attention.

sIt shocks us out of our perception of what is “normal” and “regular.” We notice it. We feel the unease. We feel unbalanced as if a huge wave has hit the small canoe in which we find ourselves.

The stomach churns. Or maybe there’s just a “pit,” a void of the unknown promising nothing but eternal darkness and eternal falling.

But the “suddenly” is preceded by the “gradually.”

The subtle shifts. The drip of the water against the stone that we know is there, but have become immune to because, well, it’s always there.

And so we don’t notice it.

But if we do, we know how the story is going to end.

The water will, eventually, crack the rock. The first 5 million drops don’t matter, but the 5,000,0001st gets the job done.

And then it becomes the “suddenly.”