May 31, 2012 § 2 Comments
At the end of my street, there is a playground. With a slide and swings…in a sandbox. I walk by it everyday when I walk my dogs and always look at the swings. I see more adults on those swings more than kids, probably because there is no safety harnesses for the little ones.
There is this guy I see quite regularly on the swing. With his backpack and runners, it appears he walks by the playground and spends part of his day on the swing. He just hops off and continues on his walk.
I see these two girls sometime, chatting away, whispering in each other’s ears, laughing and then moves into her own reverie, swinging higher and higher.
It’s been a while since I sat in a swing. I remember being in a park, a long time ago, with my grandfather. He was pushing me higher and higher, but not too high. I was and still am scared of heights. That is probably my last memory of him before his passing.
I look at those swings after day and I wonder what it would feel like to leave the ground, and for a moment, fly into the air. One day, I will certainly find the time and the courage to find out. I look forward to connecting with the joy of freedom, physically and most definitely through the release of my fear of height.
How lovely it would be to just let go, and play once again.