Many of us know “pinball”. I mean, I think that’s a fair assumption. Although, I do not believe that my 6 or 5 year old have ever seen a pinball game. . .but they wouldn’t be reading my blog now, either, would they?
Our lives mirror the game of pinball.
You know, someone pulled back on the shooter and sent “us” (the ball) flying at high speed.
We could call that straight alley, “childhood”. We could call that first curve, “courtship and marriage”.
The rest of the game though. . .that’s “life”. As it stands currently.
Truly, right now, I feel like I’m constantly being bounced from thing to thing, with absolutely no sense of direction.
Occassionally, all I want to do is give up, and actually see a way out. . .but then someone whacks me with a flipper and back I go.
The ringing! Oh, the ringing, make it stop, please! The racket is just making everything worse.
And the spinning, rolling, zig-zagging back and forth with no sense of direction is dizzying / nauseating.
Each “bumper” is a family member; and then there are the spinny / flippy thingies you sometimes hurl through. You don’t know why, they just suddenly appeared within your path and you really just had no choice. Sometimes you get stuck there for awhile, in some wacky “dead zone”. You don’t know if you should be relieved or frightened. . . maybe you remember to breathe for a second or two.
Then, off you go again. Some secret spring just popped up under you and you’re out, feeling somewhat violated, off to bounce again hither and thither / here and yon.
That elusive opening, just there, but oh! you were flipped again. Goodbye rest and respite, may I someday meet you . . .
~~ end part 1~~