As my roller coaster car (and I don't even ride them!) careens toward its next turn, loop, belly-twisting surprise, I wonder how it is that I will walk away not dizzied from the ride. Life events seem to happen upon one another, asking me to adjust to the growing up of children and the celebrations and ceremonies that go along. Changes in ways of thinking and ways of calculating force me to re-evaluate my choices daily. Opportunities arise and disappear around every corner, and my coaster car speeds past them or toward them, depending on how quickly I can react.
Perhaps in some way, each one of us, even those of us who might never
attempt the Cyclone or the Tickler or any other large carnival ride, rides
a roller coaster every day. The car where we sit, tightly strapped in
case of jolts, goes at a pace we can't always control, in directions
that, even if they happen over and over, always feel like a surprise. On
the roller coaster that is life, I suppose we are all just passengers, buckled in
for a little safety, but ultimately, just making the best of the ride.