The Teeter Totter

When I was in the 2nd grade my favorite recess activity was the teeter totter. The bell would sound and I'd make a beeline for the row of sturdy boards, always opting for the red one. I'd be joined by a friend, usually Karen Kett, (who matched me in height all the way to high school.) We'd level the plank to make it easier to mount and soon we'd be off, bobbing up and down, soaring up to the sky, patent leather shoes dangling, and then softly back to the ground. Up and down. Up and down. I remember the rush in my tummy, the woosh of the wind in my hair, the giddy exhileration of this very simple activity. Sometimes Karen would hold her end to the ground for awhile, allowing me to hover over my world, smiling in the sun. I would let go of the handle and stretch both hands into the air, feeling the breeze tickle my fingers. One afternoon we were positioned this way - with me on the up end of the teeter totter, my head back, smiling, legs swinging, about as euphoric as a seven year old can be.

Suddenly the recess bell. Time to head back into the classroom.

Karen, acting on purely Pavlovian instincts, bolted from her seat on the ground, scrambling to the school in a flurry of ribbons and blonde curls.

Thud.

In an instant I was on the ground, the wind knocked out of me, covered in dust - shocked, hurt, completely caught off guard. Abandoned. Numbly I walked back to my classroom, rubbing my sore bottom, trying to catch my breath. Confused, stung.

It was awhile before I got back onto another teeter totter. (Especially with Karen Kett) And when I did get back on, it was with both hands firmly gripping the handle, both ears pealed for that kill joy bell. The once blithe, carefree exuberance I had derived from my favorite activity, had forever been replaced with a more guarded gaiety, a jaded joy.

20 plus years later, in my budding relationship with the Dashing Litigator, I am once again on the 'Up' end of the teeter totter, and with those same trepidations. Like that seven year old Carrie, I am nervous. Terrified of crashing into the dirt again, sputtering and stunned.

Perhaps it's because my last two forays into romance have ended painfully and abruptly. Perhaps it's that we are at the 6 week mark and that's when my eHarmony faux-mance fizzled.
Perhaps it's because I'm a girl and think too much about where things are going, instead of enjoying where we are.

I revealed these feelings to the Dashing Litigator, stuttering and stumbling over my words with all the articulate eloquence of a toad. As I spoke, I covered my face with my hair, hid behind pillows and tried in vain to abandon the subject. I was on the up end of the teeter totter, alright - terrified, flailing, fumbling for something real and true to hold onto. He was on the ground watching me grapple for some sense of security. Some sort of reasurrance. What was I looking for, exactly? I didn't know. All I knew was that I was terrified, poised for a fall, feet dangling.

And then, with the kindest eyes, he said to me, "Carrie, I've been hurt before, too."

And just like that I realized I wasn't alone.

I don't know if the Dashing Litigator has ever been dropped on his ass from a teeter totter, but he, too has been bruised by the abrupt ending of the romance recess bell.

We all have.

To get back on that proverbial teeter totter takes courage. It is always a risk. It will always be scary. One never knows if and when the bell will sound and the ride will end.

But I can feel myself beginning to trust, to stretch out a tentative hand to the sky, to begin to look upward with my face to the sun. And whenever I feel that familiar twinge of panic, I look into his eyes, recall the countless thoughtful ways that he has conveyed his feelings for me, and I breathe a little easier.

Who knows when or if this ride will end? If any of the recent disasters in the world have taught us anything, it's that nothing is certain.

But to live with a death grip on the handle bars of life, teeth gritted, terrified - that's not living.

And so I shall endeavor to live fully in every joyous moment - not only in my life, but in my relationship with the Dashing Litigator. To really soak up and treasure every little discovery, experience and connection that we encounter on this passion playground.