Settling back into normal...if there ever was such a place

Normality is completely relative.  Your normal is different from everyone else's.  Sometimes drastically and sometimes just a bit.  Normal is a place that exists out there in the universe somewhere.  And nobody lives there.

I'm not really sure what my normal is.  But here's one thing I do know: it's pretty far away from that invisible place where no one lives.  And I love it.  I don't want my normal to be like anyone else's.  I selfishly want my normal to be mine.  Because when my normal is mine, it means that I am unique, individual, and me.

As a self-deprecating adolescent, one of the things I hated most about myself was my wallflower-esque tendencies.  I didn't want to blend in.  As much as it terrified me, I wanted to be noticed.  I wanted to find the one thing that made me different.  

Over time, as I've developed from that sad and scared teenager, I've discovered all the little things that make up my normal.  And the things that make my normal so different from many others.  In my normal, I am a runner.  I am a writer.  I am a teacher.  I am a person who cares for others.  I am generally positive.  I might be a triathlete, but I'm not sure yet.  I am an introvert who loves to be social.  I am a sister.  I am a daughter.  I am a friend.  I am a dog lover.

Best dog in the world?  I think so.  Also, a pretty handy footrest.

All of these things and more make up my normal.  But my normal is not static.  It is fluid.  It grows and shifts as life throws it's changes at me.  Or as I throw my changes at life.  It is a pendulum whose equilibrium shifts as the world moves underneath it.

For the past few months, I've felt as though I couldn't find my equilibrium.  Back in June, when I got a new job and started saying goodbye to what had been my normal for 5 years, I felt the equilibrium begin to slide away.  Then summer started.  And as great as summer is, it always throws normalcy completely off kilter.  Then there was triathlon training, which was something new and different and certainly not normal for me.  Then I actually started my new job, and that took my equilibrium and flipped it completely on it's head.

In my lack of normalcy, I lost track of where I was for a bit.  I didn't write.  I got fed up with training.  I didn't have teaching to remind me that there are things outside of my life that are far more important than I am.

But this week, things have suddenly started sliding themselves back into place.  I'm halfway through my 4th week at my new job (my 3rd with the kids), and it seems as though I'm starting to feel out my niche there.  I'm getting to know my coworkers and starting to feel like a competent teacher again.  I'm back into my non-summer daily routine, and my daily routines always help me feel normal again. 

And today, I went for a run.  I know, not earth shattering news.  But it was the kind of healing, therapeutic, mind-settling run that I haven't had in a while.  I was trying to be good and give myself a break after Saturday's race.  I gave myself 3 full days of rest, but today as I wrapped up the day at work with muscles feeling fully recovered I thought about my options.  I could run.  Or I could not run.  And for the first time in what has seemed like a really long time, I wanted to run.  Not because I needed to run.  Not because I was on a training schedule that told me I had to run.  There was absolutely nothing in the world that told me I needed to run today.  And I still had the perfect excuse not to run.  But I wanted to run.

So I did.  And I almost left my watch behind on purpose.  Maybe I should have, but I still didn't look at it from the time I pressed start to the time I pressed stop.  And I'm not going to tell what my pace was.  Because it doesn't matter.  What matters is that aside from a slight nagging tightness left over in my right hamstring, I felt great.

I felt balanced again.  I found an equilibrium I haven't felt in a while.  I found what must be something close to my new normal.  I may not have quite found it yet, but things are beginning to level out.  And in that, there is great comfort.

But now, to throw the balance back off just slightly for a moment, I'm going to take this opportunity to check something off my 30 things to do before I'm 30 list:

#6:  Publish a short story to the blog.

I wrote one this summer that got good feedback from my writing class and seems to fit in quite nicely with this theme.  It was a prompted free write (the prompt having something to do with being in a box rolling down a hill) with a 500 word limit that I went over by 120 words.

Without further ado or chance of backing out, here you go...

The Deal

By Tessa Kaplan

“Get in,” Sammy says as she pulls her long blonde hair back into a pony tail.

“What?” I say.

“Get.  In.”

“Why?”

“Because for once in your life, Amelia, you need to let go.”

I look down at my feet, wondering if they will move.  I will them to move.  I want them to move.  But they plant themselves firmly into the sidewalk. 

“Come on,” Sammy says as she shoves me towards the middle of the road.  My feet dislodge from the pavement and lunge forward to keep me from face-planting on the concrete.

“I don’t know,” I hesitate.  I look down at the contraption Sammy has rigged up and placed at the top of the steepest hill in our neighborhood.  A cardboard box precariously balanced upon a skateboard, attached with layer upon layer of silver duct tape.  “Why the box?”

“Because then you can’t bail and roll off.  It’ll hold you in.”

“Oh.”

“Seriously, Amelia, this was the deal.  I do my homework, you get paid for helping me, and then you do something, for once, that’s just a little bit scary.”

I press my hands against my plaid skirt, feeling the pleats of the school uniform.  Looking at the pattern comforts me.  Its regularity is predictable, reliable, and safe.  This cardboard box on wheels that sits in the middle of the road in front of me is none of those things.  I unbutton the top button of my blouse and take a deep breath in.

“Ok, fine Sammy.  But if I break a bone or scrape my face off, I’m blaming you.  You will have to explain to mom how I ended up in that thing rolling down the hill.”

“Perfect. Get in.”

I creep my way over the edge of the box as my younger sister holds the edges, giggling.  I don’t remember why I agreed to this deal.  Yes, I’m trying to earn money for a new tennis racket, but is this really worth it?

Before I have a chance to think anymore, I feel Sammy pushing me.  She giggles, and I clench my eyes shut.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter.

“Me neither,” Sammy says.  I feel her smiling.

Suddenly, Sammy stumbles and I hear a thud as she crashes to the ground.  I open my eyes, whip my head around and see her laughing, staring at me as the box starts moving faster down the hill.

“Shit.  Shit, shit, shit.”  It feels amazingly wrong to say that.

I turn around and face forward as I gain speed.  The houses in my peripheral begin to blur and the parked cars on the side of the road pass by quicker and quicker.  I focus on the bottom of the hill, waiting for the upswing of the road to slow me down enough to tip myself over.  As fast as I’m going, it’s taking forever to get there.

My heartbeat is moving at a pace I’ve only felt before a big exam.  The exhilaration of the thumping makes me feel alive.  I close my eyes again and feel the wind rush through my hair.  I sense the breeze on my face and take a big, deep breath.  When I open my eyes again, I am different.  I’ve never felt this before.  Slowly, I lift my arms, stretch them to the sky, throw my head back and let out the longest, loudest yell I’ve ever allowed to escape my lips.

And then it’s over.  I hear the pounding of Sammy’s feet as she comes barreling down the hill behind me, trying to catch up.  She reaches me and grabs the box to pull it to a stop.

“So?” she asks.

I’m beaming.  “Let’s do it again.”