Roller coasters

The first time I sat on a rollercoaster was at age 11, at Disney World. It was called the Barnstormer (and since I was probably 4 feet something it’s safe to say it was a kiddie ride.)

From the moment the bar clamped shut, I clenched my teeth and dug my nails into my mother’s arms. That was probably one of my first preteen lessons on “Never trust your parents.”

My fear of the unknown made me hate the ride before it had even started.

I kicked and screamed, in Hindi ofcourse, so as to fool any foreigner that might be listening into thinking I was loving that experience. Safe to say the rest of the day was filled with bratty tantrums and an extreme silent treatment towards the madre.

I went to many amusement parks over the years and I watched all my friends and family, actively seek out and queue up, to sit on these “high thrill” rides. They were so brave in my mind. Adrenaline junkies, thrill seekers – superheros even.

I would stand down and watch them from the only angle I was comfortable with – head in the sky but both feet on the ground – a cuccoon of gravity filled safety.

Years later, at age 23 I finally gave it another shot.** I went on a high thrill adventure ride only to realise, I loved the ride. Every bit of that 30 second experience was out of the ordinary. But I was still afraid. What I feared the most was the way the world looked from where I was. So different from the ordinary.

Turns out, I have always been afraid of that. Not the speed, not the drop, just the way things look when you’re on a roller coaster. I can’t close my eyes on rides because I need to know what’s happening.

I can’t keep my eyes open on those rides because my body is suspended awkwardly mid air and I’m hurtling down towards the ground, I can almost touch the pavement with my toes when suddenly I’m whipped back upright and flung into the sky. What even? A paradise for thrill seekers, three weeks in therapy for the anxiety stricken.

Ofcourse I am going to relate these ancedotes to my life.

I’ve stuck with my job for almost three years, infact I left it and came back to it because I fear the unknown. Crazy, right? I know.

I watched so many people jump from job to job or even industry to industry before settling for things they were happy with. I thought they were brave but I thought I was smarter for having a secure job. Both feet on the ground apparently.

I’ve worked my way around many friendships that probably should’ve fizzled out because of fear of change. Silly, right? I know.

I’ve liked so many memes that address this and yet, beyond acknowledging the need for change – I’ve done nothing.

I’ve strayed away from “high thrill adventures” life presented me with because I tried to play it too safe, while watching a lot of courageous people take multiple leaps and bungee jumps of faith.

While the world uses roller coasters as a metaphor for life, I associated mine with a train. It’s headed forward, in a singular direction, at a predetermined speed, to a new station that I’ve heard about but am yet to experience. Slow, steady, boring?

This time around though I’m on the self improvement train, and if things get too stable, I’m going to channel my inner Dora the Explorer and just pull the chain instead of wondering what would happen, all through the ride, if I did.

If you’re anything like me, I guess it’s okay to be a late bloomer to the “Be adventurous school of thought”. It is because of our comfortable surroundings that we actually had the time to realise that it’s okay to try, experiment, fail, succeed – but above all, experience.

**I went on every ride except space mountain. Dark, single seater, no idea of where the track went? NO WAY.