Maybe the way to begin these posts these days is to describe the shape of the hesitation not to write. Name the block and already it begins to shift. Or maybe that’s just dumb hope.
At any rate, today, I feel questionable about writing about my D&D game. Not because it wasn’t fabulous, because it was, but I suppose because it brings to mind the great issue of our times. The grandiosity of our ideals being forced to meet in the middle with what we can actually do. And I think the lesson I’m trying to corral and contain today is not that my ideals are too grand, but that I don’t give myself enough credit for what I can do. I don’t appreciate as wildly as I ought what is happening and what could be done.
Escalators. I used to be positively phobic of them due to some accident when I was a child and misunderstood what part to hold onto and got jammed up in one like so much toddler-based Play-Doh. Thereafter, no logic would release me from fearing them. The thought just created a new circuit with a fear that, as randomly as it appeared, could not be redirected. But that’s only because my process for handling the fear was to stay way the hell away from escalators. To address each panicky feeling by avoiding what caused that. Short-term reward, but long-term devastation when you no longer think about whether or not it’s crazy to fear going on an escalator or not – you just can’t question it long enough to see the irrationality.
So getting to DIA from the train may not require an escalator, nor getting through security and to my gate, but it was remarkable how I spent a lot of time just trying to coast out of the flow of the crowd to get to an elevator. After the convention, though, ride back, you get the clarity of…god, I spend so much of my precious time on this earth just trying to dance around things and it was nice to just, where do I need to go…up? I go up? Down? I go down. So much so that I probably went on 3 or 4 extra ones that I didn’t really need to use until I came to the massive Mt. Doom escalator and my escalator momentum was such that I just got on it and got the full-on heebie-jeebies from the insane grade, heading into a tunnel form of this escalator.
But even then, I held on, because these things aren’t made to break at my arrival and neither am I.
And so too, the panicky feelings that came from starting this game a bit half-cocked, not entirely clear on how we would do it or how it would go…it was far better just to get out there and give it a shot and see what happened and not wait for a perfect moment. We are incapable of perfect moments.
Remembering that, the last Sunday of vacation passed readily and without issue.