Couples Counseling With Plaster and Wood

Do the floor and the ceiling get along?

Or do they just put up with one another because the walls depend on them both? 

Or do they long to touch one another, 

hoping and fantasizing to one day collide? 

Or do they enjoy the view without being too close to screw anything up? 

Does the ceiling get jealous when the floor gets all the attention- mopped and swept weekly, 

while the hard to reach ceiling barely gets pampered once a year? 

Does the floor feel walked all over and used when the feet don't stop, 

envying the privacy and unavailability of the ceiling? 

Or are they beyond all of that and genuinely want the best for one another? 

The floor takes the weight when the ceiling can't hold the weather any longer,

Letting the outside world drip, drip, drip until a bucket arrives to kill time before it overflows again.

They mimic and respect one another's boundaries- Stoping just short of the backyard fence... 

More alike than they thought, but their differences can't be ignored. 

Slap some plaster on the ceiling hole, but will it ever be completely mended? 

Or will if feel like it can now accomplish anything? 

Nail down the floorboard, but it still may stub someone's toe, 

and make them swear, scream, and laugh depending on the day and company. 

Fated to witness one another's flaws and strengths. 

Looking up or looking down? 

Depends on which perspective is chosen. 

Most importantly- never looking away.

As a kid, one of my favorite things to do was to lay on the floor, 

gazing at the ceiling, 

wondering what it'd feel like to reverse and walk on it, 

to step over each doorway, 

to be so close to the windows, 

to jump on the fan like a merry-go-round. 

The floor and ceiling are attached to us.

They track every spaghetti sauced hand print 

and every smoke-filled cigarette scent.

The floor feels the joy of every perfected baseball slide, made smoother by stretched out white socks, 

while the ceiling holds the sound waves of every tantrum, 

every bug squashed by fear, 

all the thoughts that the sticky neon ceiling stars hold when we resist sleeping our minds for the night. 

I have a feeling these foundations carry more truth and connection than we could ever imagine.