Thanks to Naked with Socks On for the inspiration to write this one.
For several years now, I have had this recurring nightmare (of a memory of an actual event) that I have only mentioned to one person. Well, it's not really a nightmare if it randomly pops into my mind when I'm wide awake, I guess. So, we'll call it a vision (of a memory of an actual event)...a scary one.
Years ago, when my son was an infant, my family, including my son's father who was my boyfriend at the time, took my mother to Tennessee for Mother's Day or her birthday or some other auspicious occasion. Among the sites we visited was Lookout Mountain. From the top of this mountain, you can actually see seven different states. It was an amazing view. At one section of the tour, there was a bridge...a bunch of wood slats with ropes for railings...that you could walk across to get from one area to the next. For the more sane, there was an alternate concrete path. Without thinking, with infant in arms, I began to walk across the one that swayed in the wind.
[I should pause here to provide two critical bits of information for context. First, I am really afraid of heights...really afraid of heights. Second, this memory I'm sharing is so troubling to me that even as I am writing about it, I am sick to my stomach.]
Midway, I realized that I had lost my mind; that I was standing between peaks on some ginormous mountain, suspended a gazillion miles above the Earth with my baby in my hands. Fortunately, I didn't freak out...we made it across. I don't remember how.
For years now, that experience has haunted me...just pops up out of nowhere on the regular and takes me through brief bouts of internal drama. In the pit of my stomach, I feel the most visceral, nauseating guilt for taking that risk with my child's life. And, for some reason, I cannot get it out of my mind.
A few days ago, the daymare stepped up its game. Scanning some news site, I saw the headline for a story related to the baby-swinging man; I didn't even read the story...just the headline was enough to make me crazy. Now, I not only relive the bridge walk. Now, I actually see myself dangling my child over the bridge! Horrifying, I know. But, don't commit me yet.
The truth is, I think this modified daymare is related to a recent change in my employment status...Really. After living through eight years and twice as many layoffs at my now former place of employment, I was "impacted." No tiny violins, please. See, despite my initial shock, because it takes a minute or sixty to just absorb the the words and then another minute or sixty to make the reality shift, I have been wanting this, praying for this, fantasizing about this. Whatever that thing is inside you that nags at you when it knows that you know that you are not doing what you're intended to do...well, it had been effing with me for a long time. And, finally, it grabbed my hand and yanked me right off the cliff.
And now, just days later, I find myself experiencing excitement about all the possibilities in my life, about the opportunity to finally see what I'm really made of. I feel compelled to step out onto that wobbly bridge again shunning the more concrete nine-to-seven corporate path to find my way to my destiny. Romantic. Exhilirating. But, there's the whole dangling kid thing that I'm praying my way through. These horrible visions I'm having, the remixed version, that is, I'm certain that they are the manifestation of my guilt and fear about stepping off this cliff and carrying my son into a situation where the ground is not steady, where we may sway with the whim of the wind, albeit high above most humans and with a glorious view beneath us.
But, this is what I know. Somehow, I got that baby across that bridge (I think...maybe I turned around...I really don't remember...but for the sake of my sanity...let's go with my getting him across) and here we stand; him with no memory of it, and me, shaken, stirred and a little less sane, but still standing. I imagine that even if on the other end of this whole pink slip affair I decide to clutch the ropes and inch my way to the next place cradling him all the way, we will find ourselves on solid ground. This mother will not let it be any other way.
So, my questions for you: When was the last time you stepped off the cliff? Have you ever experienced the challenge of balancing pursuit of your dreams with the responsibilities of real life? How did you do it? Have you been contemplating a cliff-jumping lately?
