Friday, 8 July 2011
the sour cream ending
it was like i was downhill skateboarding but instead of being on a board i was just in my sneakers.
And instead of a cement hill... it was covered in wet green grass. The hill was long and winding and steep! My shoes had me gliding down the grassy surface at high speed as though i was hydroplaning. My knees were bent my ankles swiveling from side to side and my hips agile. My arms out like wings. My eyes fixed on the terrain below. I carved a path i as cut across back and forth the slope to control my speed. I would dig my heals into the earth to slow myself. At one point the hill had become long enough that my speed increased overwhelmingly and i began to wobble I realized that i still had some distance to go. I became nervous that i would bail... and that a crash at this speed would be pulverize me. As i was struggling with my balance and my hesitance to commit, a memory from my wake life entered my dream. I used to skate in my wake life... down long steep hills. I know the speed wobble ! In my dream it was as though my wake self was advising my dream self. She reminded her... "when you get speed wobbles you've just got to ride them through, relax into the wobble, bare down and surrender yourself to going faster !" So thats what i did. i relaxed into the wobble. I felt my hips arms and legs swing and warp searching for balance. I just let them. in a matter of seconds my core had regained control of its extremities and speed had pulled me through to a controlled warp speed !!! it was amazing how much control i had as i joined forces with gravity. Zoooooooom as i bombed the hill like a super hero !
Just as the freedom was setting in... I dropped something. It was my purse with all of my money in it and my passport. I realized i was going to have to stop even and i was going to lose this fantastic buzz.
I also knew that i would have to climb back up. Hmmmmmph. I leaned back and dug my heals into the dirt. i felt the dirt grind up below me as i came skidding to a hault . Then somehow it came to my attention that Danny... my next door neighbor had accused my of making his sour cream go bad by sticking my finger in it even though it had been sitting in his fridge for over a month.