(in)vertigo

finding amusement in the ride of life

Some of my best childhood memories include an amusement park. High-speed rides and thrilling heights. Sibling dares for bragging rights. Plus, Dippin’ Dots, funnel cakes, and charred hot dogs topped with a sloppy squiggle of mustard.

From Kennywood to Kings Island and the Jack Rabbit to the Racer, I lived for the thrill of every ride. The amped-up anticipation setting in as you approach the peak. The scream-inducing drop of every comedown. Hilarious hysteria interspersed between bouts.

But for a girl who once thrived in a rhythm of up-down-up-down-up-down, I’ve found the quick highs and sudden lows is more than I can stomach as I gear up and get ready for an entirely new beginning.

I’m undeniably energized by the idea of flirting with my future, but simultaneously pained by parting with my past.

I’m inexpressibly ecstatic, but inconsolably crying.

I’m so ready to go, but not at all ready to let go.

Up down. Up down. Up down. It’s like I’m back on the Invertigo. Locked in. Legs asway. In the zone and anxiously awaiting the zoom of my go-to roller coaster.

And while this season leaves me nauseated by the pendulum of emotions, I’m reminded: Life is all about the delicate balance of duality.

The highs and lows.

The ebb and flow.

For better or for worse, dichotomy in play is inevitable to the experience of the ride. Having one and not the other results in a flatline that lasts forever, a one-way ticket on the kiddie train.

As I find new ways to soothe the butterflies in my stomach and the self-doubt in my mind, I find one truth functions as my proverbial safety belt: the thrill that’s coming will be worth every speck of uncertainty, suspense, and second-guessing that consumes you as the car carries you to the peak.

For me, it’s moving to a new city by myself. But if the gift of freedom and the fear of having the floor swept out from under you resonates with whatever you’re navigating, know you’re not the only one in the park. All of life’s greatest adventures share one common denominator: they require a willingness to take the risk. Whether you’re starting anew, embracing transition with no clear trajectory, finding your footing through life’s upside-downs, or stepping aboard a high-speed coaster, whatever comes of the ride, it’s a joy to experience it. Both on the roller coaster—and the roller coaster of life.

It may be true that this moment finds me feeling down, but I know I’ll soon be on the up. I’m so lucky to be here, to be waiting in the line I’m in. No fast passes, no skipping to the front. I’m taking it all as it comes. And if I’m lucky, by the time the ride is over, I’ll find I can’t wait to experience a thrill like this all over again.