Zoom out!
Friday, October 15, 2010 at 7:25PM 
A friend on Facebook said something along these lines. And it downed on me - I don't need to rush into anything. This is my life, and I have all the time in the world. Whatever happens to me - it will be over. All of it. If I zero in on anything in particular, I will lose sight of the whole. I tend to focus so intensely on getting that one little piece of candy, right there, behind that couch, the one that's so hard to reach! I forget I've got a whole truck full of candy is coming my way as a special delivery. Or not special. Or... it doesn't matter how I got it. The point is - it will come and I better be hungry then, because I would be able to savor all kinds of flavors. And, I would be able to take the time to pass my hand through the glitter of the countless wrappers, listen to their crinkling, take them out and see how the sun shines through. And, perhaps, put one or two in the pocket, to not eat right away, but to wait till the timing is perfect, till I find the right spot to sit down and enjoy it.
When I can walk, that is. Baby steps. Learning to balance, to walk straight, without rushing forward, falling to the sides, swinging out of my comfort zone. I tend to run on those wobbly "single" legs, like a kid in a candy store, grabbing everything left and right and stuffing my mouth, swallowing without chewing. I got to the point when my stomach hurt, and I had to throw up. Too much, too fast. But as soon as I was empty, I stuffed myself again, and again. And again! It took several cycles to really get the idea that I don't have to do it all now. Nobody is taking away my freedom, my ability to choose, I have all the time I want - I need to zoom out. I did. It was a beautiful sight. Sunny, crisp, love everywhere, waiting to swallow me - within an arm's reach - and not moving, just being there. So I got it that I can go there at any moment, now, or in 10 years, it will still be there, patiently waiting. It calmed me down. I could finally sit down, into the heap of candy wrappers, and be with myself, hungry, yet not desperate. Then I lied down into it, and I saw the sky. It didn't go anywhere, it didn't disappear, it just sat there, full of stars. Is this what is called happiness? The ultimate luxury of being slow, deliberate, forgiving? I don't know what else can compare to this feeling. Maybe falling in love for the first time, when I thought I was made of air and any wind could pick me up from the street and send me off on the emotional roller-coaster. It was that feeling before taking off, the sweet anticipation, the weightlessness of any decision. Being so in tune with the moment that nothing else existed. Ready to jump head first into something so big and scary, yet so tempting and inviting.
I realize I'm on the precipice. I balance carefully, making sure I take a look at every step I make, making sure there are friends on the sides who will catch me before I fall, just in case. Because I'm not ready to fall yet, I'm savoring the prelude. I've allowed myself to savor it. This comes with age, doesn't it? Maybe this is something that will become part of my wisdom later. The skill of watching life from a bird's eye view, soaring high up the clouds, unperturbed by the noise of life from below. Meeting high wind blowing into my face, cutting through the clouds. If this is so easy, why do we like to struggle down below? Because we can't let go of our struggle, it's our story, our validation. We become one with it and it runs our lives. Only rarely do we look up and see those rare people soaring, and we think - oh, they are special, they can do it, I could never do it. And we dive back into the struggle, sticking our heads into sand, like an ostrich. Thinking that maybe, only maybe, if we don't see the truth, it won't bother us. Hah! It does though, and it hurts. And we go bitch to friends how it hurts, and they bitch back to us. Only kids stare up at the sky. When we rush about our daily business, they are the ones pointing up and stopping us. Time to learn from them, time to remember how we felt when we were 5, when the most important business was guessing what shape that cloud is - an elephant or a snake?
I hope my hand will be steady and I won't suddenly zoom in. I hope to stay in the Zoom Out land as long as I can. It's refreshing and it makes me feel alive like never before.
Photo by Yaniv Golan.
Reader Comments (2)
hi
thanks for sharing your truth
i believe you
i'm in a similar situation - panic attacks etc. and my mind is telling me that my dad raped me.. but I can't believe it.. dont trust the world to hold me..
it's lonely place
need courage
Nick,
thank you so much for reading and commenting. You have the courage, it's just a matter of time to discover it. Trust your feelings - there is nothing that we feel that was imagined. Just decide that for 1 month you will believe that it was true. Them, after that 1 month, you can ditch that idea. But you would be surprised how many things get aligned. And please stay in touch - if I can, I will help.
Ksenia