Friday, May 18, 2007

Out of the Mist

Past experiences normally hover in misty memories while the present seems to plod or whoosh along. Work days, plod plod plod. Weekends, vacations, special moments, whoosh. Mist, plods, and whooshes.

But sometimes, sometimes, synergistic moments present powerful, pensive, awareness. This synergism lends itself to seemingly time-warped experiences which stir up intense, emotion-packed reflections that flood the senses and yank the tears. Unforeseen clarification results.

Disneyland, 1966, I was ten, joined by my parents and three siblings. My dad’s favorite ride was It’s a Small World, where riders board little, low-sided, turquoise boats which slowly float into a huge building magnificently colored with animated, costumed dolls representing children and objects from around the globe, while children’s voices repeatedly sing the Small World song in complementary languages. As a ten year old it was the boat and the water which excited me most. My little fingers were happily compelled to flick the cool liquid in delight, as my body gently rocked to the floating rhythm. The little doll-children were pretty, the colors and postures of the dolls fun, and the music cute. Enjoyable.

Disneyland, 2007, I am fifty, and joined by my husband, and daughters (15 and 11). “We have to go on Small World! It’s my dad’s favorite ride and I want to see if it’s the same,” I enjoined.

"Life must be lived forward, but understood backward," according to Soren Kierkegaard. This is how I tend to operate. I was about to have one of those moments.

We boarded the boats, entered the building, heard the song. Cheerfully, I began to sing along as my girls smiled, thankful I’m sure, that the music of the ride drowned out my voice.

I found myself remembering certain dolls, then my mind pulled, out of the mist, the memory of my dad, as a 39 year old man, sitting at the back of the boat next to 10 year old me. I remembered the pleasant look on his dark, handsome face, and his outstretched arm and finger pointing here and there. Suddenly, I visualized my entire childhood family overlaying my present family. Somehow, this Disneyland ride was experienced from my ten year old and fifty year old minds, simultaneously. Vividly.

Forty years had passed and here I was again, possibly in the very same boat, with my young daughters. As I pointed things out to my girls, I recalled my father pointing the same things out to me. My exclamations of delight paralleled Dad’s. My laughter joined his.

Overwhelmed in mind and heart, I began to cry. Sitting in that gently swaying, bumping little boat I cried, for the good times. I cried in thanksgiving that my siblings and parents are still alive and in good health. I cried in gratitude for the three dearly loved people sharing the boat, and moment, with me. I cried for ten year old me who was having such a good time then, and for fifty year old me who was having an even better time now.

And I cried because it seemed I had entered my 39 year old father’s mind, and I knew that he'd had a joyful experience on this ride, in 1966. I absolutely felt his love for me then.....and for me now. I experienced the love he demonstrated to me which I didn’t fully grasp or appreciate at the time. I completely understood his happiness for the first time, while experiencing my own.

It was a strange and beautiful thing not adequately conveyed in these feeble words of mine.

But I want to remember the moment. So I write.

And I reflect. On family. On life. On God. On higher ways.

And I wonder, what foggy aspect of my present reality will come into crisp synergistic focus decades from now.

Life. Deep, deep, astonishing, mysterious life.

12 comments:

Wandering Coyote said...

Wow, great post, Cherie. That Kierkegaard quote really resonates with me. I get these flashes of remembering every so often when I walk around this town where I grew up and have come back to live in as an adult. I don't have a lot of positive memories, but they are memories nonetheless...They're mine and I have to honour them somehow...

deanna said...

Quite an experience, Cherie. Thanks for putting it together in meaningful written expression.

My memory of encountering the Small World ride centers more around my family saying, "Will that song never end?!?"

But that's not to diminish what you felt. We were having fun, too, just from a different perspective. :o)

tshsmom said...

I get that same feeling when I see a picture of my parents with me when I was little.
It took having children of my own, for me to realize how much joy my parents were experiencing in those old pictures.

Cherie said...

WC, going back to the home town is quite a trip. Honoring your memories is sometimes hard work, but I think there's a purpose to it. Maybe in the understanding backwards. Glad the quote resonated with you. True. Thanks for the comment!

Deanna, you know, the song didn't bother me in the least. Besides my flashbacks, I thought how wonderful the idealism of a world singing together, getting along together, and I had a moment of sadness that it's not the case. The song DOES stick in the head, though...... :-) Thanks!

tshs, I hear ya. The things we understand once we walk in the shoes of the parent!! Thanks for your perspective!

Anonymous said...

I just loooove that quote from Kierkegaard. So true. So true.

Cherie said...

I love it, too, Desiree! :-)

liz crumlish said...

Ahhh.. Cherie. so glad you're home - and with yet more wisdom and experience to enrich us. Appreciative Inquiry is something I'm gently following with my congregation at the moment - it so ties in with kierkegaard's livng forward, understanding backward. Thanks for giving it all such a human, family feel.

IndianaJones said...

funny this is the only quote i can ever remember from Sir K (and my husband is obsessed so we own almost everything he ever penned but I am a very very slow K reader) and this is the only ride I remember actually going on in DisneyLand 24 years ago...so your memories triggered mine...it was nice...my 5th birthday...only unfortunate part of that trip for me was watching my big brother's go on every ride while I stood outside with my Mom watching them...except for It's a Small World...
I must agree with most of the comments here...such a good quote and so true, thanks for the reminder once again.

Cherie said...

Liz, your congregation is blessed to have you. I would love to know more about how you go about Appreciative Inquiry. It sounds terrific!

Summer, Sir K. I like that. I envy your K. collection, having only two books of his myself - so far.

I can picture little 5 year old you on your birthday watching your brothers. We saw lots of little ones there, NOT getting to ride the fun stuff, and pitifully crying. Caroline just squeaked by on a few of the rides, and she turned 12 today. Thanks for your personal story, Summer. And glad you liked the post.

Anonymous said...

A wonderful emotional reflection, Cherie. Thank you for sharing it!

Cherie said...

Thanks, Annie.

Anonymous said...

This brought tears to my eyes.Thanks for sharing it.