One of my favorite poems is by Danaan Party. It’s called ‘The Parable of the Flying Trapeze’.
The Parable of the Flying Trapeze
Sometimes, I feel my life is a series of trapeze swings. I’m either hanging on to a trapeze bar swinging along or, for a few moments, I’m hurtling across space between the trapeze bars.
Mostly, I spend my time hanging on for dear life, to the trapeze bar of the moment. It carries me along a certain steady rate of swing and I have the feeling that I am in control. I know most of the right questions, and even some of the right answers. But once in a while, as I’m merrily, or not so merrily, swinging along, I look ahead of me into the distance, and what do I see?
I see another trapeze bar looking at me. It’s empty; and I know that this new bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart-of-hearts I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present well-known bar, to move to the new one.
Each time it happens, I hope – no, I pray – that I won’t have to grab the new one. But deep down I know that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar, and for some moments in time I must hurtle across space before I can grab the new bar. Each time I am filled with terror. It doesn’t even matter that in all my previous hurtles I’ve always made it.
Each time, I am afraid I will miss, that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless basin between the bars. But I do it anyway. I must.
Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call faith. No guarantees, no net, no insurance, but I do it anyway because somehow, to keep hanging on to that old bar is no longer an option. And so for an eternity that can last a microsecond or a thousand lifetimes, I soar across the dark void of “the past is over, the future is not yet here”. It’s called a transition. I’ve come to believe that it is the only place that real change occurs.
I’ve noticed that, in our culture, this transition zone is looked upon as a “no-thing”, a no-place between places. Sure, the old trapeze-bar was real, and the new one coming towards me, I hope that’s real too. But the void in between? That’s just a scary, confusing, disorienting “no-where” that must be broken through as fast and as unconsciously as possible. What a shame!
I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and the bars are illusions we dream up to not notice the void. Yes, with all the fear of being out-of-control that can accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, growth-filled, passionate moments in our lives.
Trust. It’s a slippery thing. Especially if someone or something has ever wronged you in the past. And if you have never been wronged, I may wonder if you have interacted with the world as of late?
Years ago, I was checking out a new yoga studio. This was before I had to break up with yoga but that is a story for another day. Anywho, I had just placed my shoes and jacket in the cubby and i went to fill my water bottle. Painted across the wall In beautiful script were the words “Let Go or Be Dragged”. I am certain, for a microscopic moment, the world paused and gasped. My body, brain and soul acknowledged the wisdom of this simple statement before I continued on prepping for class.
I love a good visual, you will come to learn this about me. This particular quote conjures up memories from when I first was learning to water ski. Rule one was “keep your ski tips up”; rule two “sit back and let the boat pull you up” and rule three was, if you fall, “let go of the rope or you will be dragged”. Let me tell ya, water enemas are zero fun. It takes about one time to learn this the hard way before you learn to let go of the rope.
Yet in life, I had to learn this lesson over and over and over again. It all came to a head about seven years ago. I had been getting little whispers to quit drinking. Though I would not consider myself an alcoholic, I did not have a healthy relationship with alcohol.
A few years back, while sitting in one of my therapist’s office, she asked “do you think you’re an alcoholic?”
Me: "No...that language does not feel authentic to me."
Therapist: "What about alcohol abuse?"
Me: "I didn’t know that was a thing, tell me more."
What I learned that day is our relationship with alcohol can be very similar to our relationship with human beings. There are healthy versions, and there are unhealthy versions. I landed in the 'not so healthy camp' when referring to my own relationship with alcohol. This did not necessarily mean that I was an alcoholic, but it also meant alcohol was probably not nourishing my soul. At the end of the day, I’m not sure the label really matters. I’ve started asking myself- "Is this serving my soul or not?" If not, let it go.
Had I listened to the whispers to quit drinking, I would not have required what I call a 2 x 4 lesson. But instead, I heard the subtle request from within and continued to hang onto the proverbial rope and I continued to drink.
It was December 22, 2016. It was a particularly warm day, and my family met up with my best friend’s family at the park. We walked the trails and found a portion of the river that was frozen over. We were all sliding around on the ice having so much fun. Later that evening, they all came over to our house for taco night.
We were all sipping on some beers, reminiscing about the particularly warm beautiful day in December. I remember their daughter wasn’t feeling well and so they had to leave early. At this point, I had had a couple beers but nothing crazy. Though, I would say I was a smidge more than tipsy.
I told my husband that I would take my dog out for her final walk; it was around 11pm. As I came back through our gate into the backyard, I bent over to take my dog’s harness and leash off. As I did this, my heel caught a bit of ice in our grass, and I slipped and heard a pop. Then I felt an incredible wave of pain rush over me. I crumpled to the ground and started crying. My dog stood over me, licking my face. I started screaming help, help!
Thank God my husband heard me. He came out to the backyard, scooped me up and brought me inside. He’s a physician and so he checked the ankle and asked me if I could put any weight on it. “Hell no!”He said, "What do you want to do?" I was tired and decided to go to bed and reassess in the morning. This must just be a terrible sprain, I thought. I woke up early the next morning hung over and in excruciating pain. I woke him up and said we need to go to the hospital. It was December 23 and in two days I was supposed to be hosting my in-laws for Christmas.
Here’s what actually happened that day. I had emergency surgery in which a plate and five screws was inserted into my ankle. Yep this is what I call a 2 x 4 lesson.
Looking back, that was a pivotal point in my life. I deeply believe my guides or the universe was saying SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP. We’ve got this, let go, trust and surrender. All I could do was grab the remote and sit down and shut up.
Question: are you clinging to a rope or trapeze bar but hearing whispers that it is time to let go?
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