As the youngest child by many years in my birth family, I idolized my older siblings. I studied them, wanted to be like them, and sought their attention and time daily. (And drained their patience frequently, I’m sure). As I grew older, the admiration didn’t change.
Fast forward to a beautiful summer Sunday in Atlanta, circa 1994 when my big brother Tom came to visit us from Indiana. Instantly I am eleven years old again, wanting to play, egging him on, and more than anything, wanting to make him proud of me. Our first outing was the water park. We headed out bright and early one morning before the crowds got big and lines got long. We hadn’t been there 15 minutes when we walked by the ride, Dragon’s Tail. Thrill level: Max.
“C’mon D, let’s go!” Tom shouts.
If anybody else had asked me to go on that ride I would have politely declined. I love water and everything, but that ride was more about terror than water. However, I didn’t want to disappoint big bro, so up the multiple flights of stairs we climbed. The wood was already hot under my bare feet and I kept an eye ahead to see if anyone was walking back down, opting to not plunge to certain death. The line wasn’t long but I agonized every second of the wait. What. was. I. doing??
I’m not exaggerating to say I felt panic as our turn approached. My heart was pounding, I felt jittery and wanted desperately to turn around and walk back down those stairs. Shame seemed a better alternative.
“Lay back, cross your ankles, clasp your fingers behind your head!” barked the teen attendant as I gingerly stepped into the little pool at the top.
Oh no, I don’t think so. I’ll just oooch my way down, nice and slow-like, I thought. Sitting down at the top of the slide, I followed none of the directions, grabbed hold of both sides of the slide and began scooting my way forward. However, the design of the ride prevented any real progress with this method because the huge jets of water propelling you to the bottom didn’t actually make contact with the surface of the slide. Ooching was not an option, I quickly discovered.
Seeing no real alternative at this point, I laid back, crossed my ankles, clasped my hands behind my head and closed my eyes like never before and off I flew.
Needless to say the ride did not last long. I remember realizing mid-flight that I was being carried along only by a jet of water and then was plunged dramatically into the pool at the bottom. I had survived. Deliriously relieved it was over and proud that I had acted far braver than I felt, the rest of the day was spent in a happy daze.
Cute story, but why was that the ride of my life?
It was only decades later that the lessons from that experience took on greater meaning:
How often in life do we try to “oooch” forward, attempting to control events, people, and circumstances because it feels too overwhelming and risky to just let Life be? We sometimes go so slowly and fearfully that we miss the adventure. The sense of control we get from efforts to manipulate is intoxicating, but it is an illusion, and no more helpful or sustainable than my attempt to scoot my way down the Dragon’s Tail.
Is there an area of your Life that is calling your forward, but you’re afraid to take the next step? If you need support or help to believe in Life or the validity of your dreams, give me a call.
