Swing low, swing high
Also: “Ameneurosis” - Forced air across space
We sometimes forget how fun swings are.
The feeling of travelling through air just by kicking our legs and moving our bodies along with the motion of what’s holding us above the ground.
Back and forth, back and forth.
And I think I’m not the only kid who found a certain thrill at the two ends of the “smile” the swing makes while I’m on it. That split-second when your weight leaves the seat of the swing, when the world falls away from beneath you and you feel airborne and free before you go hurtling down toward the low middle again.
It’s strange how that thrill translates to stress and frustration as we grow older.
We freak out as things pick up speed and it feels like things would get out of control; we break down and cower as life pulls us somewhere we couldn’t see or plan for, even if we’re going up backwards.
All we care for - all we’re striving after now - is to be stable, stationary, stagnant. At least here we could be in control; here we could get off and on the swing if we so choose; here we could sit still and watch other kids enjoying the playground.
Here we remain at the lowest point we could be.
And that’s the thought that sent a shiver down my spine the other day as I was driving home from someplace, spying an empty swing hanging from tree in a deserted front yard.
It’s the realization that we sometimes prefer that lowest point to motion.
We prefer to stand still, spend all our energies trying to command the winds around us, and wonder why the world looks so mundane from this angle. We’re talking, always talking, of either what crazy thing what’s-his-face is up to these days and how irresponsible that is of him, or of how stuck and boring our own lives are. That’s what we tend to do, if we’re not careful.
Instead of laughing into the wind as we rise higher (backwards and forwards) than common sense would warn us, and go through the valleys of death without fear. Or smirking at the world whizzing past us, not caring whether others thought us crazy or weird.
Five-year-olds are fine with falling around, fine with appearing silly, fine with feeling crazy when they come across something that they haven’t understood or experienced yet. They grin, smile, and try again.
Parkour athletes, martial artists, artists, and musicians all know this. You get up after falling, and do the vault again; you throw a punch a thousand times, even though it seems pointless; you throw paint on the wall, trying to create the shades your soul is seeking; you play around with the keys, let your voice carry in the wind no matter who hears it.
Even when the distance of your ideals from the ground makes your head spin. Or when it seems like your life is headed downwards real fast. Or when people are standing next to the swing set, criticising your speed, motions, or facial expressions.
All of that doesn’t matter one whit. You keep playing and smiling.
Because swings are not meant to be simply sat upon.
Odelia
Quote for the week
Something that impacted me in some way the past week, and think is worth sharing.
“Live the question.”
– Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
This week’s word: “Ameneurosis”
Since the start of 2024, I’ve begun a project of writing 7 poems each week, using for my prompt an entry from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig. I share the best from said project in this section.
ameneurosis
n. the half-forlorn, half-escapist ache of a train whistle howling in the distance at night.
(From amen, “so be it” + neurosis, an anxious state + amanuensis, an assistant who helps transcribe newly composed music. A train whistle is the sound of air being forced across a gap, which serves as a poignant reminder of all the gaps in your life. Pronounced “ah-men-nyoo-roh-sis.”)
***
(untitled)
Yours was a face I'd see every week
Something I could come home to;
Then time's hinges began to creak -
Now I just have memories of you.
Wonder what it takes to be friends
Without the need to explain things,
Laughing and swerving 'round bends,
Absorbing the shared happenings.
We had that years ago, but at the time
Neither of us realized what it was;
The older we get, the more the rhyme
Of life fades to a "just because".
***Find me outdoors
Photos and/or thoughts during my off-grid project.
Two meals I’ve had this past week:
The dried chicken + dandelion salad - my current “fast food”, as long as supplies last - is surprisingly filling, due to the abundance of nutrients (and a generous drop of olive oil). That’s my fermented drink in the background.
Tried to make Korean egg rolls on a cast-iron grill over the fire. Tricky? Not with a well-seasoned grill and some fancy chopstick moves. Tasty? You bet.
Give this a listen
One of the songs that’s been consistently on my list the last week or so.
Classified
My
highly acclaimed3-week “Writing the Sentence” course is now available both on my website and through AP Homeschoolers. If you’re of the writerly sort, or know of someone who is, check it out some time this summer!