The steady creek of the swing rocking back and forth is the only audible interruption to the peace that is the park. As are the requirements for any beautiful day in a park, the sun shines brilliantly, its rays lightly brushing the pastel blue canvas of the afternoon sky. A light breeze flirtatiously toys with the luscious green leaves of the trees scattered around the playground and gently weaves through the blades of grass of the soccer field.
Creek, creek, creek.
Back and forth and back and forth I swing, creating a rhythmic pulse that breathes life into the summer afternoon.
I love to swing. It’s one of those experiences that can never be replicated, and can never lose its thrill, no matter how old I am. The initial pumping requires some work, but once the momentum is gained, the swing takes on a life of its own. It first propels the rider up to the sky, only to drop them down again with a deliciously strange feeling in their stomach that is both wonderful and uncomfortable all at the same time. I love to look up at the sky as I swing. I imagine myself zooming off into it as I go up, but just at the point where I wish to fly off into its depths, the swing pulls me back down to reality, and I watch as the sky slips from my grasp. You never really think about being pulled back down in the thrill of zooming up, but deep down, the knowledge that the swing will consistently bring you back is a little comforting, as the sky and its vastness can be a little frightening in its immensity of possibilities. But although you are reassured, a little part of you is sad in that moment that halts you, when you are stuck between the sky and the ground, as you had so very much liked to fly off in the moment of thrill, the moment where doubt and uncertainty didn’t arise as they do on the descent to the ground. You wonder what it would be like if the swing didn’t pull you back. Would you zoom off through the clouds and into the sky? Or in that halting moment, would you look down at the beautiful leaves of the trees, the lush green grass and the little playground, and realize that just a moment ago, before you got on that swing, you were quite content in the peace of the park. And maybe that contentment is enough, because you know it is yours. It can not be questioned like the possibilities of the sky.
As you fall to the ground, this question of the choice you would make is in your mind, and so you try again and again as you swing back and forth to come to a conclusion. Eventually, you realize you must leave the peace of the park, and as you walk away, you notice again the sunshine and the breeze, and as the happiness fills you again, you decide you prefer not to think about the sky anymore and that you will fill your thoughts with the park. But this decision is made with a little uneasiness and discomfort, as in your heart, you know you’ll never be able to forget the lure of the sky and its majestic call of adventure. But you know you must try, or else you will have lost both the sky and the park in the void of longing that remains.
- SDS
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