The Ultimate Carnival Ride

Carousel? Maybe, but not often.
Ferris wheel? Rarely that slow & gentle.
Rollercoaster? Tilt-a-whirl? Kamikaze? Yeah, that’s more like it.

No, I haven’t been going to amusement parks and carnivals. These are metaphors of a busy life, the essence of living in a world where challenges come from every direction, from the purely physical to the mental, intellectual and spiritual compass points.

Just when the climbs & plunges of the rollercoaster slow, just when it looks like I can step off the train, an Octopus wraps around me, then morphs into a Tilt-a-whirl car spinning chaotically or a Hammer plastering me to the back of the cage or (if the carney has trickster hands on the controls) stopping up-side-down. Kinetic forces reassert and…

Yikes! A drop tower, a toboggan splash, then I’m back on a spiraling coaster.

I’m still not sure how I managed to write and illustrate my two books—Under Every Moon and Leyfarers and Wayfarers—born in the midst of this, but others are on the way. Unrelated accomplishments accumulate (art, metalwork, beading, fiber arts among them) alongside housework, my work schedule, and a thousand interruptions. (As of right now, three chew toys and seven tennis balls have vanished in the last five minutes, and the dogs require a referee for the last visible toy. If the 4+ times daily precedence holds true, I’ll excavate the suddenly missing toys from under or behind the couch or buried between the cushions. Oh, and the cat is scratching the bottom of the water bowl—ah, the melodious sound of claws on stainless steel!—indicating the dogs drank it dry. )

None of the rides are beyond endurance. I totter wobbly-legged down the midway and into the funhouse. Check my short/tall/thin/fat/wavering reflections. I’m not sweating blood like Jesus did in the garden of Gethsemane. None of this is stress, then. It’s only challenges, only annoyances, only an astronomically high rate of interest and event.

I grin and amble back to the rides. It strains the limits of my inner gyroscope but never to destruction.

And I haven’t barfed.

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