Saturday, April 08, 2006


A few years ago I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. To save my life I could not tell you about any of the characters or even what the plot was, but something did stick. The idea of weight and freedom as a really great analogy.

There are people in life who prefer to have sex while being on the bottom. Symbolically this can represent having a weight on them, but more than in a literal meaning. This weight holds you down, keeps you stable. Or if you look at it another way it can stifle you, keep you from full range of motion.

Then there are the people who like to be on top. There is nothing keeping them anywhere for any amount of time, they can get up and go at a whim. This allows pure freedom, no strings attached. But then what keeps you from floating away, without any direction?

In my mind it seems like this analogy is improved upon by thinking of your life in a hot air balloon.

I have been weightless for a long time. Everything is done on whim, fancy. It has been simple to be this way, as I am a very spontaneous person. Also, I am kind of different in that I am very rarely lonely. Really this explains why I have been single for so long. Not being afraid of floating, not missing an anchor.

This does not mean I don't like the weight, just that I never looked for it.

Recently I have been caught on something, and it has been nice. Familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. One could argue that it is not natural to have nothing holding you down. Every balloon has to land once and a while.

On one hand it feels safe and secure to be grounded. On the other the tugging of the rope feels new, and sometimes raw.

I don't remember the exact moment with the Detroit ex when the anchor was attached, but I remember in crystal clear detail when it was cut. With that pain I made sure to bring up all lose ends to make sure I didn't catch on anything by accident. Now starting something again hits some of that sense memory. It is so much harder this time around to get used to an anchor again.

It is ironic that the actual act of letting go of being in control, of truly being free, seems to involve being held down.

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