Flip

It's been countless years since I've performed a flip. It would have been off of a diving board in a pool somewhere. It was scary, but I've always been a fan of the rush of terror. Mild terror. Some don't like that, I just happen to.

Like jumping off the cliffs in Arkansas at one of our great family reunions. That moment of exhiliration, the complete release, the hope (or is that faith?) that despite hurtling untethered through time and space, I will land feet first. Not on a hidden slab of stone, not into the waiting jaws of a large and yet undiscovered man-eating fresh water species. Feet slicing an opening into the water leaving the rest of the body to follow, plunging deeply into new stratuses of coldness. Arms fighting my way back to the surface, feet kicking to propel in an upward motion. *GASP* Oxygen! Ensuing laughter, more gasping and a big woot-woot! for the sake of the crowd( okay, handful of equally insane siblings). Yup, love me a thrill. An old friend and I pausing long enough on a hike to slide down a glacier on raincoats. More conservative fellow hikers speechless as we fly out of control down the mountainside where we eventually stop. Safely. Albeit, within inches of boulders larger than our collective bodies. Cool. Yeah, I liked it. A lot!

In this moment, I am flipping again. But not by choice. In this instance this flipper(or am I the flippee?) in a forced motion, is not getting the same rush, the same sense of freedom and abandonment. My feet have left the ground, but unwillingly. I am again hurtling through space, but it's dark, hollow and cavernous. As in any flip, I'm going headfirst but my heart struggles to stay put. Tries to stay upright, facing forward. Pulls hard to bring my whole self back to familiar soil. Replant my feet. Side by side, firmly, toes dug in deeply.

Too late, so I fly. Flipping. A prolonged sense of dread when for just a nanosecond I have let go.
But I've changed my mind. Too late, my feet have permanently left the ground, my head leading in a familiar way, leaving my body no choice but to obey the laws of motion.

But as any flipper (flippee) knows, before landing solidly on both feet, the body has to complete the turn, the unnatural bending and twisting at the gut, the looping of the heart, the mind focused on the projected outcome to ward off the vertigo. The inevitable spinning that causes the brain to signal the eyes to see a million exploding stars.

We are in the early stages of the flip, our feet have left the ground, our knees are tucked up to protect our hearts. We fly untethered with all the hope of landing on our feet.