When I was younger, the swings were my vice on the playground. I loved the gentle rocking of the motions, the wind rushing past my calves, and the rhythmic squeak of iron chains. But I despised the eclipse that would occur when I soared too high when the pit of my stomach expanded until it felt like I was being swallowed up whole.
Today, I embarked on those swings again: and the pit of my stomach still dipped, folding over and flipping itself like a falling pancake.
It is a good thing.
Your stomach’s “pit” is what makes the world’s colors seem brighter, what keeps your head refreshing, it is one of the sensations that separates your today from your yesterday.
Call it fear, adrenaline, or adventure, but the lively nature of the pit should be fed daily. Ironically, it is the hollow abyss that fits itself right beneath our belly buttons that keeps us from feeling empty.
The pit is metaphysical- It is not to be fed with tangible, sporadic motions like the simple presence of riding on swings but rather with the experience of things that one cannot get used to-
A confrontation, a risky menu choice, a different route back home. Everyone carries a different pit.
The pit for me, just for today, was the swings.
And after over twelve years, I’m happy to know that my pit is nowhere close to being full.
