We’ve been swinging a lot lately.
Almost every day since the lockdowns started, my sons and I swing on our playground. The little one is strapped into the baby swing and the big one swings so high he is almost parallel to the ground. I sit in the middle swing.
We listen to music. Talk about how much higher my son can swing than me. And watch the construction workers next door.
The dump trucks and excavators have provided much needed entertainment.
Our routines have been scrambled. Our gatherings are less. And the summer heat is in full effect.
Every time I swing, I hold tightly to the chains. Then I dip my head back with my legs in the air and look at the world upside down. It’s something I’ve been doing since I was a little girl.
And now as an adult it makes me kind of dizzy.
For a split second, the green grass is on top and the blue sky is on bottom. Then I’m right side up again with my feet back on the ground.
I don’t have to tell you that this year has hit us with a punch. And then a kick. And while we are down, the punches keep coming.
It’s pretty chaotic and the world seems to be upside down. At least to me it does.
We’ve flipped 180 degrees and what’s right is now wrong. And what’s wrong is now right.
Everything you say or don’t say can and will be used against you.
And honestly it’s all very depressing. It makes me a bit dizzy.
I think about that split second in the air – how my landscape has flipped. And I realize that I still know up from down.
Right from wrong.
Light from dark.
I know that the green grass belongs under my feet and the blue sky beckons my gaze.
Because my feet stand firmly on the ground of truth. And my sight is on the heavens.
I don’t listen when the world tries to tell me otherwise.
There is One Truth and many untruths.
There’s bottom down and right side up.
And there’s two ways to go.
Either up or down.