Spinning and flappy skirts

When I was a kid I would spin around. I would spin a lot. The act of spinning was gleeful and frightening. Gyroscopic pressure on the body as I turned alleviated the emotional and physical pressure I felt.  I would spin to feel centrifugal forces working on my body, I would spin to see if I was wearing my flappy skirt today, I would spin to see if my shoes stayed on a or if there was something nearby to bump in to. Spinning was gleeful.  The goal was to spin so much I fell down. Failure, in effect was my goal. Get so disoriented and dizzy that my legs could no longer support me. Failure was an opportunity try to regroup in a crumpled heap on the floor, enjoy what just happened and decide if I would start over and do it again. Was I satisfied? Had I spun enough? Did I have more spins in me? Had I failed spectacularly enough yet? Failure and starting over was success. I don’t remember when I last considered that failure was to be embraced and considered a success and opportunity to start over. Perhaps I should give spinning a try again, reframe my fears? I am off to find the flappiest skirt in my wardrobe. 


Author: Pollyanna Whyte

Single LDS Mormon Mum/Mom living in England. This is my blog on emotional health, fun, parenting, life, divorce, starting over, friends, family, church things, and budgeting. Stop by, tell us what you think, feel free to share (but credit the source please).

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