Amusement Park

Some people compare their lives to a box of chocolates, or a bowl of cherries. My life is like an amusement park. It is equipped with all the rides, foods, sights and smells associated with the best of parks. I've ridden some of the rides, some scary, others mind blowing fun, and some just pure joy. I have tasted some of the food, but have more to savor. I have played the games and won fantastic prizes. I have also lost and walked away feeling defeated and cheated.

I have been on this roller coaster called residency for the last six years. It has had its ups and downs, twists and turns, and exhilarating drops and slow careens. I have had my stomach drop, and my lunch come up. My head has spun, spins, and I have been in a constant state of motion for so long that I can't see straight. My knuckles are white and I may have whiplash. The problem is that I want off now. It is no longer fun.

The ride stops and picks up more riders and lets others off, but here we stay for another go. Not because I want to keep riding, but because my ticket says I have to finish the ride we purchased. After riding for so long it is easy to get caught up thinking about what I will ride next. After all, I have memorized this ride so well that I know what to expect before it gets here and it has lost all of its excitement, but not the cruel side effects. 

I envy all the people who have already exited the ride and seem to be enjoying another one. I want to be with them. I want to look up the riders getting on my last ride proudly wearing my shirt that says "I SURVIVED".  I want to be on the ground surveying the park and deciding what I want to do instead of following what my ticket tells me to do.

I see those standing in line to get on this ride and want to tell them to skip it, move on to something else. I know that isn't the right thing to do. In my heart I know that this ride will affect each of the riders differently. Those getting on may actually find it stimulating and more pleasing than I did. They may have a higher tolerance for motion. Perhaps their ticket isn't for as many rides, maybe they will survive  3 or 4 trips around. The only way to find out is to let them ride. 

It used to seem like we would never move on, but I can feel it coming. The ride is slowing down and this time I think our cart will stop in front of the exit sign. Surely this ride will end, the conductor wouldn't play a mean trick on me at this point. Would he?

There is something exciting about the unknown and a different view from a new vantage point. I am ready for new experiences. More than anything I want to look a the roller coaster through the eyes of someone who has already experienced it. I want to see it from a distance. 

I am looking forward to not knowing and just enjoying the next ride. Even if it is worse than the one we just got off of, at least it will be a different ride. I think the Ferris wheel looks like a good choice. But  I only want to ride it once, thank you very much.