Topsy Turvy
"There's a girl in New York City,
Who calls herself the human trampoline.
And sometimes when I'm falling, flying,
Or tumbling in turmoil, I say,
Woah, so this is what she means.."
~Paul Simon, Graceland
Today I'm wondering whether or not I'm tired of the Tilt-O-Whirl. I stand in line, weight shifting from foot to foot, because I just can't wait. And it's not just the Tilt-O-Whirl. It's everything--the now non-existent Tidal Wave, Top Gun, bumper cars and ferris wheels. For me, it's all in the doing, the action, the sailing, falling, flying. And it's not always as fun as it's supposed to be. In fact, metaphor aside, I had quite a real panic attack at Great America just the other day. I indulged in the herb that makes me reverberate in the smoothest of tones, and then went on Top Gun. I hadn't been on that ride for years. In line, I was bouncing on my toes and clapping my hands in anticipation. I even made my friends wait in line for the front row. And right after the first drop as the coaster started flinging the riders fiercely to the right, then the left and back again...I got the what ifs. What if this fucker flies right off the track? That'd be a really crappy way to go. I imagined how long it would take before I died. What would I have to hit? Would I slide and scrape along the ground before coming to a stop or would I just smack right into a nearby stationary object? I came to the decision that if it was gonna happen, I hoped it would be quick, that I'd smash my head open as soon as the carriage's free flight began. As the thoughts were whirling, I knew I was freaking myself out, I knew it was the weed, I knew I was not in control. And usually, I'm good at this sort of thing. I understand that because I have no control, I may as well enjoy the ride...at least until it really did leave its track. I wasn't very sucessful at talking myself down. I just faked it, basically lied to myself. Made my body relax, changed the grimace into a wide smile and eased up on my grip hoping that my brain would follow my body. But it was too late. The ride came to an end, and I was sad that I didn't really get to enjoy it. I did well the rest of the day never again feeling that terror. But I felt like I failed by screwing up my favorite ride and all day I wanted a do-over, but I couldn't get anyone to go on it again with me as we had to keep moving forward with the day and the rides we hadn't come to yet.
I like things that make me feel alive. It's just sad that I don't give credit to the quieter things. You know, for awhile I got into knitting. And as dull as that may sound, it is quite the contrary. While knitting you reach this point where a little hum begins just behind the eyes. As the meditation sets in, the hum moves deeper into the heart of your head. It's like writing when you've been staring at the screen for an eternity, but once you start and feel the flow the time just passes. When you finally lift your eyes, you realize you've traveled so far yet you are not tired. You are calmer, more centered. Unlike writing though where you are stuck on the one path you've created, the meditation while knitting is quite free and allows you to go everywhere and nowhere at the same time, all the while moving deeper within. The end feeling is just as good as any roller coaster. It's just that it takes so long to get there, while the rides can whip up a frenzy in mere minutes. I don't want to miss out on the slow things that make me tingle. And I think I just might be. I like to cook. I like to share the meal and bask in the praise when I see the yum-yum face across from me lick its lips in appreciation. Slow stuff like that.
I don't know why I have this fear of slowing down. I think I associate slow with stagnant. Connections like those are dangerous if you really believe in them. And I just don't want to. I refuse to. I'm gonna get outa this line for awhile, I think, and maybe knit me a backpack so I can be ready for some new travels. Yeah. That sounds nice.