When I was a child I used to swing so high, I felt like I was flying. I used to spin and spin and spin until it felt like the earth was tipping over, and I'd tumble to the ground and watch the landscape go around and around until it came to a rocking stop. I loved the tilt-a-whirl and really any spinning, upside-down ride at the fair. Oh how I loved dizziness.
But then, there came a day when spinning stopped being so much fun; suddenly it was illness-inducing. In fact, I remember this day perfectly. I was out walking around on the east side with my friends Nate and Buffy and we decided to roll down the grassy hill on Lafayette. We rolled and rolled. When we got to the bottom, we lay there. But instead of the endorphin releasing spin, I felt like I was going to throw up. I believe this marks my entry to adulthood. How sad. Why does spinning and swinging get less fun when you grow up?
Yesterday, at the park, I watched as Coen and some friends rolled down the hill at Hawthorn Glen over and over, letting their dizziness walk them around in strange fashion and laughing when they fell down. "Try it, Mama!" Coen yelled. But alas, I have tried it and can try it no more for fear of nausea. Lucy and her friends spun and swung around and around on the tire swing. This too, I can no longer do for long periods of time.
Even if if my path of movement does need to remain unrotational.