I love this scene in 1989's Parenthood. When everything is stressed and tense, grandma floats through with her story about the roller coaster.
I love roller coasters. Some people hate them and won’t go near them. I especially love wooden roller coasters like Screaming Eagle at Six Flags over St. Louis or The Voyage and The Legend at Holiday World in Santa Claus Indiana. There’s just something about that clickity clack sound that is stimulating.
I’ve noticed something, though. Some people will do all they can to ride in the first car of the coaster. They want that front row seat. They want a full view of the tracks ahead, and the endless twists and turns quickly approaching. The line to get a first car seat is much longer than the other cars in the coaster.
I’ve always loved the last car, the back row seats.
With all the other cars on the coaster in front of you, your view is compromised. When your car reaches the turns, it’s a surprise. The torque and the G-Forces are much greater in the last car.
It reminds me of playing a game of “Whip” in the front yard with the other neighbor kids. I’m sure it has been called different names over time and in different areas of the country, but we always called it Whip.
The game involves kids forming a line while holding the kid in front of you by the waist with hands on the hips. The first child begins to run around the yard in zig-zag, spiraling patterns. His job isn’t really all that tough – just run around in random patterns. All the kids behind that one, however, have an increasingly challenging time keeping up. The last kid winds up practically sprinting and twisting and turning at blinding speeds. The object of this game is for the one in front to move around so quickly and unpredictably that the last one is flung from the line and left sprawling on the grass, sweaty and heaving. This is much more fun than it sounds, believe me.
This is what it’s like to ride at the back of the roller coaster. The twists and turns are much more exaggerated, more violent, more exhilarating. The last car whips around at greater velocity and fiercer force than the front car. Even more, with the limited view ahead, you can never see the turns coming. When the car veers right, it’s a surprise. When it dips down, it’s a shock. Those in the front car can see the turns approaching and prepare for the direction change by leaning into the turn, lessening the impact. Those in the back are brutally whipped around, never knowing which direction their car will recklessly careen next. It can feel that at any moment the car will detach from its brethren and sail carelessly away, crashing through wooden support structure before landing in a broken heap below.
Pure adrenaline-fueled exhilaration.
The roller coaster is life.
Some people like to sit in the front car. They want to see the turns and twists approaching. They take appropriate measures to lean into the turns and hold on more tightly. They want a wide, full view of the tracks ahead so they can see where they are going.
Others like the last car. They don’t want to know what’s coming. They want life to be unpredictable, stimulating, and exciting. Some may even hold their hands in the air so the car whips them around even harder, increasing the excitement. They want life fast, hard, and loose.
Where do you sit in life?
Do you like to plan and prepare for life, or do you take chances, go with the flow, enjoy where you are, and relish the challenges?
I once worked in a factory with an older woman who had been there thirty years. She never sought promotion or advancement. She never dreamed of leaving. She wasn’t much to talk to, sitting on her stool waiting to tape the next box once it was filled. I asked her how she could work here at such a boring place, for I was quickly losing my mind. She said she never wanted more. She had no desire for responsibility or authority. She didn’t want a job that would require her to think too much or would demand accountability. She simply wanted to sit on her stool and watch the conveyor belt.
Collect check and repeat.
I left that job for the police department. I needed each day to be different. I knew that eventually each day would blend into the next, but each day would be different. I might stop a man from beating his wife one day, catch a burglar the next, stop a suicide the call after that. Life would be a roll of the dice. But I chose to live my life at the back of the roller coaster. I never liked the Merry-Go-Round. Too boring.
I chose policework. I lived in the gym and karate school. I won medals and trophies in both arenas. I became an ordained minister, married a few couples. I am a paranormal investigator and help people with their haunted houses which even got me on Travel Channel. I am an energy healer and Licensed Massage Therapist. My wife and I chose to homeschool our kids and they are bright and funny adults now. I rappelled off an elevated train track while the train was going over. I was run over by my own four-wheeler twice during “little mishaps.” I did a Cannonball Run – type race with another salesman to a city in Kentucky once. While his car was much faster, I still won. In high school we went out of state to eat lunch and made it back in time for our next class. Yes, we did 110 mph over the Ohio bridge. I’ve nearly been shot, and I’ve nearly shot others. I nearly fell off the Camel Head at Garden of the Gods. I nearly sunk a car in Pigeon Creek. In fourth grade I was charged by a huge buffalo and knocked back about 10 feet – the teachers nearly had heart attacks. I’ve had cancer and diabetes and healed from them both.
I’ve had a life.
I’ve lived my life in the last car on the coaster. I’ve held on tightly, and I’ve held my hands high. I’ve been jostled around quite a bit, but it’s been so much fun.
I read something recently.
Don’t live the same day for 75 years and call it a life.
I’m only in my 50s. I still have 40 years before I leave this body behind. I will let go of the safety bars, hold my hands in the air and make the most of it, no matter which way the track turns.
It’s going to be exciting.
Live it,
Weeg
I teach Tai Chi every Saturday at 11:00 at UU Church at 2910 E Morgan in Evansville.
Classes are $10 cash
March 1st prices at Tri State Holistic Wellness are $70 cash per hour.
Joe “Weeg” Weigant is a Licensed Massage Therapist, Holistic Health Practitioner, Herbalist, Metaphysician, and Empowerment Coach. He combines bodywork, energy work, and coaching to improve quality of life by healing from the outside in and from the inside out. Weeg coaches his clients to drop the white flag of victimhood and pick up the banner of empowerment, inspiring them to stop riding in life’s trunk and take the wheel of their lives.
Weeg sells Nature’s Sunshine Products, Pure Herbs Ltd., doTERRA, and Juice Plus+. Weeg suggests lifestyle changes and provides herbal remedies to his clients build new habits for long life and vibrant health. He teaches Karate and Tai Chi, Reiki Certification, as well as seminars and workshops in metaphysical and spiritual matters. Weeg is available for sessions at Tri State Holistic Wellness by appointment only.
Contact by text 812.568.5356, or Facebook Messenger to set an appointment.