You know what? I hate roller coasters. HATE them. My kids love them. At a certain point, during a very small window of my childhood, I liked them too. Just like I liked the smell of gasoline, and can no longer stand it. I also liked spinning, twirling round and round, faster and faster, and can no longer stand that. Even a short time on a swing makes me feel a little uneven, a little unbalanced now.
That all said, you know what I do like? That life is a roller coaster. I am white knuckling it sometimes and it is scary, but so exhilarating. In the midst of it, it seems terrifying, and then I swoop down the long hill, screaming, grabbing on, clinging on for dear life, and I level out at the bottom, and I'm OK. It's OK. We got through that. And we're stronger now.
I don't seek out drama in my life. I'm not an adrenaline junky. I don't thrive on chaos. I just see that that's all a part of life and I might as well try and enjoy the ride. Even if it's at times scary. Even if it feels threatening. Even if it seems insurmountable.
The roller coaster approaches. I climb in. I just try to find comfort in the seat, buckle in, and hold on.