Tonight, I had ten minutes with nothing that I had to do. Class prep was done and the kids were with their dad, so I decided I would take 10 minutes to unplug (which is very rare for me) and go lay outside beneath the setting sun with nothing more than a towel and a bottle of water. My laptop nestled safely inside, I laid flat on my back. The evening sun felt wonderful on my face. Almost below the fence line, it was neither too bright nor too warm. That's when I did something I shouldn't have done. I opened my eyes.
If you're a frequent reader of my blog, you've probably heard me talk about the "Acme Effect" already. This is my name for the phenomenon where Wile E. Coyote can defy gravity, but only until he recognizes that he's doing it. Once he acknowledges that he's breaking the laws of physics, the jig is up. Well, that's very much the sensation that I had. Sometimes, when I look at very tall buildings or, apparently, cloudless skies, I am overwhelmed by the fact that no matter where we are on this planet, we are upside down to *someone*. In this case, it was the depth of the clear, blue atmosphere that caused me to lose my breath. Instantly, in a meaningless reaction, I clawed the grass...as if a handful of grass roots would keep me anchored should mother-earth decided to release her gravitational pull on my sunkissed body.
Now, logically, I know that I'm not going anywhere. I knew I wasn't going to fall wildly off the earth and spin out into space. The reaction was, instead, a larger clue into what was going on in my brain. It was a symptom of not trusting something that has always been there for me. The irrational fear of a good thing disappearing just because I've learned to rely on it. Whatever that moment meant, I'm certain that it wasn't my last waltz with irrational fear and the need to have control over myself. I've chosen to type this up, because as odd as my experience may seem to most of you, I'm certain that someone out there has felt something similar. Anyone wanna share?