Next Time Then

There's a French phrase, l'appel du vide, which translates literally to "the call of the void." It describes that strange, unbidden impulse some people feel at heights, near edges, or in other precarious places. Not a desire. Not a plan. Just a whisper. Wouldn't that be easier? For a long time I told people I was afraid of heights. That was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. I was afraid of my own mind. Of that quiet, patient voice that shows up uninvited and asks its polite little question. I had no way to explain that without alarming everyone around me, so I kept it small. Just heights. Just edges. Nothing more. Research suggests this experience is far more common than most people admit, and interestingly, it tends to occur more in people with strong survival instincts, not less. The brain registers danger, and somewhere in the process, it briefly entertains the thing it's trying to avoid. It isn't a death wish. It's almost the opposite. This song is for anyone who has ever stepped back from something and not known how to explain why they needed to step back in the first place. You're not broken. You're not alone. And if that voice has ever gone quiet as you walked away, you already know how this ends. Next time then.