Swings, Ducks, and Cheerios

Last night as I was struggling to write an essay that I didn't want to write, I received some news about someone I care about. I won't say what the news was, but it devastated me. I could no longer focus on my paper because I was so upset by what I found out. My eyes welled up with tears and I cried. I felt helpless, like there was nothing I could possibly do to make things right. I needed a distraction. So I called my friend and told him what had happened. He picked me up in his truck and let me just sit and cry while he drove me around Provo. Once I was done, he said that he would gladly help distract me. First, he bought me a cheeseburger. Then we went to a park.

He showed me this really cool different kind of swing that he had discovered. I can't explain what it was like at all. He pushed me in the swing. Then twisted me up till my feet weren't touching the ground. I held on tight while I unwound and I tried my hardest to hold my feet in. When I realized that I wasn't stronger than the centrifugal force I let my legs fly out and I leaned back while I spun around and around. I could feel the cold air rush against my face. I could feel my tightly pulled back hair come loose. I could see the stars spin around opposite of me. I closed my eyes and felt free. Then I went over to the regular swings. I told him about how my friends and I used to swing as high as we could and then jump to see who could get the farthest. I also told him that we used to play a game where if you were swinging in unison with the person next to you, it meant you were married. My friends and I also used to swing as high as we could trying to get up and over the bar. It was never possible, but we used to get close, parallel to the ground and sometimes higher. Then I started to swing. I forgot about what was bothering me and I let myself swing. I let myself laugh and smile. I allowed myself to remember the feelings I used to have while I would swing. I let myself feel like a kid again with no cares in the world.

There's a duck pond right by where we were swinging. I ran over to stand on the rocks while I watched the ducks swim around. I listened to the sounds they made and watched them wiggle their tail feathers. It made me smile. How easy it would be to be a duck. I closed my eyes and imagined the life of a duck. It was a good life, but I really appreciate opposable thumbs. My friend found a bag of bread on a bench. We fed the ducks and watched them while they indulged in this feast. We both picked our favorite duck. He named his Squirtle and I named mine Callie. They were best friends, we decided.

Then my friend found a bag of cheerios. We fed the ducks cheerios too. It looked so cool to throw a handful of cheerios into the water. Cheerio rain. We started throwing the cheerios directly above us in the air so that we could be rained on. When we got near the end of the bag he dumped it on me. Cheerios everywhere. All over the ground around me. In the hood of my sweatshirt. And crumbs in my hair.

This all was a nice distraction to my unfortunate evening. How nice it is that such simple things as swings, ducks, and cheerios can make us feel like kids again and distract from the reality of our stressful life.

When I showered this morning, I washed the crumbs and naiveté out of my hair. Reality set in, but I was able to calm myself enough to write my essay.