The Ride

At the end of last month, I rode my first ride. My friend F. made me took the small steps into the giant tower with hanging seats from its hands. That tower shined so brightly, neon-colored, and I could see those hanging seats tilted because the hands started to rotate. The seats would turn as the hands soared to the sky. At that moment, some of the people riding it would scream, a mixture of excitement and fear.

“A small step for a man, a big leap for mankind, eh?” F. gave a smile. He always tried to make me ride with him in one of those attractions. I never have the guts. My girlfriend always tried but never once convinced me enough. I fear of height and many other things. Everything a man would brag about that came out of dare daring experience is never on my list. I stay on the ground, watching them from below.

F. rode with M., another friend, on a seat in front of me. I tried to make sure my safety belt and my safety bar were appropriately locked. A guy that seemed to not speaking German sat beside me. I was nervous, so I tried to talk to him. He smiled, but he did not appear to get what I said. I told him, “This is my first ride. I never rode something like this before. I am really excited about it.” No answer, just a smile. He tried to look in another direction, avoiding my eyes. I did not continue, I avert my view to F. and M. in front of me, taking pictures with their cellphones.

A loud sirene sounded, signaling that the deck area should be cleared because the ride was going to start. My heart raced faster, I tried to keep my breathing. My teacher always said, “Focus on your breathing, focus on the here and now.” The seats were shaking. I could see the workers were running after making sure all the safety requirements had been met. It started. We went up to the sky.

For a very first second, my stomach felt as if it was being hit from the inside. I could feel the force that pushing us and our seats as the rotation became faster. We were still getting higher and higher. The wind was adamant; I could feel it blew past my hair and face. My hands held the safety bar in front of my lap. I kept it tight. It was cold and wet, and I could see some water drops on it. It was raining before.

We were soaring high, rotating on the cold and wet night of October. I tried to enjoy the scene, the moment. Because in such a situation, I always have a strong feeling of wanting to escape. Escaping is what I mostly do in the twenty-nine years of my life. I escaped all the pains, all the fears, all the problems. Not but a small fraction of it I stayed like last night: to hold the bar firmly and tried to be there.

I could hear the sound of the two girls who were sitting behind me screaming. The two girls were holding hands before we enter the deck, one of them was so excited that she expressed her amazement often. That we were finally up in the sky made her even more excited. They screamed and laughed. They had fun.

F. and M. started to shoot video with the smartphone. Those two are a reminder for me. That life should not be a burden, and there are moments to cherish. That ride was one of those moments. They recorded because it was fun, and fun should that ride was.

The guy beside me talked to his friend in a language I did not know. They were also recording and taking pictures. They laughed and screaming, they also had fun.

Without realizing it, I loosened my grip on the safety bar and screamed, long and loud. My scream was blurred and mixed with other noises from the night market. Various songs, announcements, human voices; they were all combined into one giant sound dome. The dome I was in.

I looked at the dark sky without stars. It was raining, so the cloud was covering most of it. But I think last night the moon shined. Some rays of dim lights made the textures of the clouds visible, creating a beautiful gradation of dark blue and dimmed white. I never before see the sky from such height, outside any container.

When I looked below, the night market with its various lights and attractions were swirling fast. The colors they emitted blurred into a fast-changing line of colors. The form was vague, but its vivid characters stayed. I could not see it after a while because I started to feel dizzy. But it was an impressive view and gave an exciting feeling. Especially when I saw that my feet were actually hanging loose. No earth below my feet last night, no surface supported it.

Recently I began to remember the words of my teacher. The words that guide and help me until today, whether I realize it or not. Those words support me, making sure I have enough strength to carry on in this journey. His sole intention was to make sure I have enough resources to go on this voyage. He will stay because his journey is in another direction. Mine should be walked by myself alone.

During the dizziness I experienced on top of the rotating tower, I remembered one of his teachings. It was about the number: one. He used to say, “One mind, one act.” This was, I thought, related to the meditation practice I learned from him. But then he elaborates a little bit more for me. He said, “When you have but one mind and one-act, the next step is to become one with them. When you have become one, you will understand that everything is unseparated.”

“Your mind wanders to the past and to the future. You are too busy with your affairs and running out of your breath. Do you know why your heart is always full of burden? Because you are still divided. Your heart, your mind, they are not one anymore. Stay intact and leave all the distractions!

“You complained about how many things that remain unfinished. You blamed your environments, the people around you, your situation. But my dear student, is it not that it is yourself that created the wall that hinders you? You undertake too many things than those that you can handle. You are not a tree that can handle its many branches and trunks. You can carry only that much what your body, your mind, and your heart can bear.

“So leave your things on the ground and give thanks to the good Earth. Give thanks to your parents, your friends, and siblings. Return everything to the great soul, and you shall never have to be afraid of losing again. Leave everything except one, and only one. Everything else will be taken care of, and you will meet them again in time. There are a time and place for anything.”

Later that night, F. departed from platform number three of the central station. We hugged each other and promised to arrange our next meeting. As his train slowly moved, I became more grateful for our friendship.


Bremen, 19 November 2016 #memoir