SPlash…

Posted on July 2nd, 2007 by Heather Dugan

Splash.

The unremarkable sound of one toe, tipped with vibrant pink polish, testing the waters of this cyber-pond… Not a big deal to jump in, right?

The world is split amongst those who read novels on a pool chaise, some who slide tortuously down the poolside ladder, those who bravely dive right in, and a few of us who first toe-check the temperature, knowing full well that, eventually, we’re going to get ourselves all wet.

So why the token ritual?

Maybe it’s the vestiges of eldest child hyper-responsibility or a sideways glance into the dressing room mirror to view my full amount of exposure. Maybe it’s blessed anticipation… Kind of silly; I write with the same regularity that I floss my teeth, and I’m a hygienist’s dream. I guess it’s a matter of choosing to sing original lyrics in the park rather than only within the relative acoustic safety of my tiled shower.

“Sorry” in advance, if I go for any ill-advised high notes here…

As a ‘reformed’ Type “A” personality who has found value in sliding down to “A-“ in some key areas of life (but knows unequivocally that I’ll never be a true Type “B”), I acknowledge the need to regulate my pace with a few well-placed speed bumps. I don’t pay attention to road signs as well as I should; maybe if I write my own…? And writing is also a decent way to move from one loop to the next before I get sick on the ride. As a high school freshman I loathed geometric theorems and proofs, but from this safe distance I can vaguely recognize the value of establishing some “givens” from which to build onward and upward. If I don’t write “eggs” on my shopping list, I will buy them in excess and still wonder if I’m forgetting them when I drive by the grocery.

One of the ‘givens’… The attitudes and perspectives we surreptitiously tuck away inside of us ultimately reappear in one form or another along the way. I spend a lot of time with the very young and the elderly. By the time we arrive in our eighties, our attitudes are etched with particular emphasis onto our faces. Either smile lines or grimaces will eventually mark us with their irremovable make-up. Permanent gratitude or engraved displeasure for all to see and see through…

There is no hiding of the heart. Not really…

I reflexively chronicle my encounters with places and people. I travel to discover and am often delighted to discover adventures within the confines of an ordinary day. Rarely do you feel the tipping motion when you stand at a pivotal point. Maybe if you can map your last steps, however, you can gain sensitivity to the tremors of today and tomorrow. I hope so.