Apr 06 2006
Flyin’ through the air sans the greatest of ease
When I was five I wanted to be a trapeze artist. It was the outfit that sold me. They were frilly, girly and sparkled like the costumes Miss Elyse picked out for dance recitals. As it was, waking hours were spent coming up with (mostly unsuccessful) excuses to get my mom to release the sequined orange jazz-baby costume from it’s hiding place. She didn’t want me to ruin it, which I probably would have. I was even less coordinated then than I am now (if you can imagine) and it is hard to get stains out of white fringe. (Don’t even act like you didn’t learn that lesson the hard way too.)
The circus left town (as it does) and took with it my desire to hurl my body from great heights in fabulous clothing. Next, I wanted to be an astronomer. Not sure how that came up but it had something to do with the concept of infinity. Thinking about it made me dizzy. What was after the stars? I needed to understand infinity even though, by definition, it would always be beyond my grasp. My dad talked about cutting out a portion of the attic to build an observatory. (You can stop wondering if I come by my impractical-starry-eyed-dreamer streak honestly.) Now I had an answer to what I was going to do “when I grew up”. Everyone ooo-ed and ahh-ed over my new path. Folks take scientists a lot more seriously than circus performers. (Who was the last clown to receive a Nobel Prize?…I rest my case.)
Fast forward a few years: our class completed a unit on Astronomy and I learned that it involved math, math, math. My ambition level went from “driven” to “pumping the brakes”. Without a replacement calling, it was just easier to write a gracious thank you note for the telescope or astronomy book than to explain my waning interest. I needed to get back to helping Barbie take inventory at the Dream Store or flip burgers at her McDonald’s franchise. (People give Barbie a hard time, but that girl is a go-getter.)
Decades have passed and so has my childhood, but the questions remain the same. My need to have an answer: gone. My rounded edges don’t fit well into boxes and confinement would make answering my “calling” when it calls too complicated. As soon as it registers louder than a whisper, I’ll make a recording and Podcast it here for your listening pleasure.
