In school, 7 minutes in heaven is a game played where a boy and a girl have to spend 7 minutes in a room together presumably making out, though more realistically talking about how ridiculous the game is and then possibly going in for a peck at around 6:58. But in the past months I’ve finally understand what 7 minutes in heaven really is. 7 minutes in heaven is taking a literal leap of faith and crossing a precarious bridge that instead of instinctively making you cringe, makes you dance with jazz hands and wish that you too could fly like the orange beaked ravens that float about the eroding mountain sides and milky river. 7 minutes in heaven is listening to “Your Hand is Mine” by Explosions in the Sky and being able to share that incomprehensible joy with someone else who you ardently wish happiness for. 7 minutes in heaven is teaching someone a different way to approach a geometric problem and having them tell you that for the first time they did well on a math test and actually enjoyed it a bit. 7 minutes in heaven is what an hour, a day, a month, a year, a lifetime should feel like.