I was out for a nice Sunday morning bike ride when I characteristically began to contemplate the meaning behind my incessant braking. I have trouble letting go on the downhill slide. Instead I ride the brakes. This is not unlike my approach to life in general.
The problem as I see it is my struggle to gauge my own physical safety. How fast is too fast? What if I am not paying attention and a sudden danger presents itself? There were times, particularly when I was younger, when I was lulled into a sense of security and safety only to be confronted with a sudden danger. I learned to be ever vigilant - to ride the brakes and scan the horizon.
Yesterday I had a completely different kind of experience. My son coaxed me into going down the big water slide at the pool. I was apprehensive as I climbed the stairs unable to look down without invoking my fear of heights. I got to the top and mounted the intertube with much trepidation and little grace. I let go of the edge and was immediately hurled into a dark tunnel. My stomach leaped into my throat and I was certain I had made a very bad decision. How would I survive this tunnel of death? Then I suddenly slowed down. I was cradled by the tube, gently rocking from side to side. I surrendered to the waves and took a deep breath to prepare for a big splashy finish. I'm glad there weren't any brakes. Otherwise, I might still be making my way down that slide.
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