Too Wrong or Too Right
All this summer, I have been seeking, experiencing, doing, going, going, going. With less than a month remaining in my exploration, and a big trip to Vegas on the horizon, it feels like all the forces in my life conspired together to slow me down. My body is threatening rebellion unless I get more sleep, drink more water, and generally cut back on the feasting of food and drink. My mind is on the verge of mutiny, demanding as its ransom a few evenings of peace and quiet, a little clarity and focus to tackle some problems. And my heart is on its last leg, trying to avoid collapse with the sheer effort of holding up all my hopes and dreams, volleyed between body and mind, undertaking the enormous task of providing everything I’ve ever wanted without the support, guidance, and direction of the rest of me.
The Summer of Yes has been a bit like trying to sprint a half marathon- without regard for pace. And now something (myself? the universe? Does it matter?) has grabbed me by the collar, jerked me off my feet, and said “Freeze.” Stay. Be still. Notice. Reflect. Rest. For just a minute, hit pause.
Pause feels like a lot when suddenly you realize that you are gasping for breath, thirsty beyond belief, and starting to cramp as the lactic acid suddenly builds in your muscles. Pause can be anything but comfortable.
Sometimes it seems that the only thing we need in life is the exact opposite of the thing we are doing. When we are still we need to move. When we are running we need to walk. Life isn’t so much following the path as it is a series of tiny (or sometimes major) overcorrections. A little of this is always a pinch more than you needed. Fix it with a little of that, which is just a dash too much.
And maybe such is the way of the world. Even our locomotion seems to say it’s true. We imagine that we walk a straight line, that even if the path is circuitous, we are putting one foot directly in front of another. But the sway of our hips and the swing of our arms give us away. We are always a little right and a little left of center, moving forward along a straight line that we never actually step onto. The path, the line underneath our bodies is merely something we pass over, like trail markers. Our actual route, if traced, is sinuous and curvy, each stride literally creating a peak and a valley. We move in waves, rising and falling, going a little overboard with every step. A little too serious, a little too frivolous. Too worried about others, too caught up in ourselves.
And I suppose, as much as it can feel like all of that is wrong, all of it is in fact, exactly right. This is the way we move, this is who and what we are. This is how we go through life. We overcorrect, we experience. We run and then we stand still. Curves are more beautiful and interesting than straight lines ever could be. Sometimes the turns are harrowing. Sometimes the troughs seem endless. But we need all of it, the too much and the too little. It’s what makes us just right.