Upside Down and Feet First!
So, back from sabbatical and remiss in posting a blog yet, partially on accounta trying to decide the best gem to share about the break and partially on accounta it’s “that time of the year” when we’re getting everything UP and RUNNING. Which brings us to this blog, when I recount a tale in which I was neither up nor running.
I bring you now the LIVING METAPHOR for what I learned on sabbatical. I’d flown into London - whee - so exciting - can’t wait to eat some warm tasty scones and hear English pronounced like, well, English. I’m traveling light-ish so I take my two little rolling bags and hop on the tube into the city. I arrive at Paddington Station (I didn’t really arrive at Paddington Station, but wouldn’t that have been so cool if I did because we all know about Paddington) or a different station the name of which escapes me now, and roll my way to one of the steepest longest escalators I’ve ever seen. Having lived in New York City I have a robust history with escalators, but sheeze, this is a very long - very steep escalator. No worries though. I’m a pro. I deftly roll the first bag on the step - I step on the next step as it appears - and I put the second rolling bag on the step behind me. But, um, the second bag is somehow caught on something and I realize this at exactly the same moment I realize my left arm and body are moving upward and forward, while my right arm and body are moving downward and backward. Yeah, this might be a hard image to capture in your mind, but I’ll make this easier by explaining that gravity is in favor of my right arm and suddenly I find myself being slow-motion pulled onto my back by the second bag and the escalator.
I desperately wish I could see the CCTV footage of this, because in my mind I was a ne’er do well ballerina who not so elegantly folded herself down onto a super steep escalator so that she was suddenly entirely on her back riding FEET FIRST up with the top of her head pointing downward to where her right arm was clinging to a rolling bag. Oh yes, I’m representing as a very impressive American tourist at this point. You’re all welcome.
For those of you who have not ridden an escalator this way, I can advise you that the sharp pointy stairs on which most people STAND vs. LAY will dig into your back, and once you are aware of this, it’s a good idea to simply wriggle around and get as comfortable as possible, because this is going to be a loooong ride. Also, you will notice a lot of things about the ceiling of the tube station and let’s face it, most tourists never really take the time to look up, so I guess that was a win for me.
And so, what does one contemplate on the longest, stairs digging into your back, feet first escalator ride in a foreign country?
Two things:
First. I had a magnificent sense of calm and thought things like:
“Oh, so this is happening now”
“I probably should be embarrassed but this is so funny I can’t stand it” and
“Hm, I wonder if someone is filming this and we could somehow turn it into a tik tok for Everybody Matters.”
Second:
More practically, I knew I needed to plan my dismount. Having never arrived at the top of an escalator feet first on my back, I wasn’t sure how this was going to go but I was pretty certain I would look a wee bit like a walrus break dancing (spoiler alert - I’m sure I did - but I don’t have the CCTV footage to prove that yet.)
So, you’re holding your breath right now in anticipation aren’t you?? As I neared the top of the escalator I used my KARATE and kicked bag number one out of the way, then my butt got stuck so I used a super stunt man roll and sprung to my feet while skilfully grabbing bag number two and gracefully walking away. The whole last sentence was a lie. I rolled around like a break dancing walrus and wobbled to my feet. (This dismount earned a 1 from the Russian judge, the British judge gave me a -8 and three random people just threw food at me. All well deserved.)
Okay, so why the heck did I choose this as my gem to share with you? Because it’s like a poor retelling of the Toaist or Buddist or some philosophy’s story of the young monk walking along the river and seeing an old man being swept away by the current and looking like he’s drowning. The young monk runs along the bank as quickly as he can trying to save the old man who is bobbing up and down in the rapids. The monk keeps running but can’t keep up and eventually he sees the old man swept to the shore where he climbs out and starts walking along the river. The monk catches up with the old man and astonished says, “I don’t understand how you survived! I was sure that raging water would kill you and ran as fast as I could to try to save you!”
The old man calmly smiled at the young monk and softly explained. “It mattered not that the river was raging, I simply relaxed my body and went up with water and down with the water, and eventually the water landed me safely at the river bank. It is when we fight against the flow and struggle with what is, that we drown.”
And so, through a series of profound events during my sabbatical, I have returned with a new “knowing.” And this knowing includes: when the flow of an escalator insists that you ride it feet first on your back, snuggle in for the ride because the escalator will take you safely to the top, where after your clumsy lopsided dismount you can go buy a warm tasty scone from someone who speaks elegant English.
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