I was invited to walk, talk, listen, and be amongst giants on a hike I took a few months ago. Giant redwoods are fat and stocky, and their roots spread out wide amongst the forest's surface, entangling with other plant life as they lived in harmony. The enormity of their body beside mine made me feel small, yet I occupied a space of dignity.

It is the middle of the summer, and I can already begin to feel a transition brewing. I’ve come to realize that my body is acutely aware of future transitions. It’s a gift, and yet it has felt like a perpetual looming black cloud or self-inflicted torture as I anticipate the future. It’s not worry or anxiety, as it may seem from the way that I describe it. It is my body’s memory of past trauma and hard seasons that blindsided me because I would do my best to think only on good things.