I am not a spectator in my own life
There I was in Atlanta Georgia. On vacation of a sorts, with one day completely to myself. These are my dream days in a way. A sudden change of plans never needs to be communicated or negotiated. The day just flows. Somewhere in between the aquarium and the monastery I found myself in centennial park. Built for the 1996 Olympics. Sitting next to the "rings" fountain, eating lunch and drinking water. Today was the first very warm, sunny day. The light lunch was consumed quickly, and I moved on to the outer edge of the fountain, unpacking a book and taking of my shoes, lying on my belly watching the kids in the fountain.
The fountain spits forth copious amounts of water in jets, randomly. It sometimes starts slow, one jet at a time around each ring. Other times a whole ring of jets shoot water up at once. Sometimes there is a slow meandering trail, and occasionally all the jets fire at once, completing a water pattern of the Olympic rings. Kids laugh and scream with delight. Running randomly through the fountain, sometimes following the jets, sometimes running from the jets of water. Few adults enter the fountain, but usually with grace and poise, waiting in the center of the rings in order to get a light sprinkle, sometimes putting forth a leg or arm into the jets. A few brave souls actually stand in a way so that they become quite damp and then retire to sit in the sun and watch their kids.
Next to me is a group of about 10 teens. They strut into the fountain's center and then wait for the water to shoot up around them. Talking on their phones, they joke to each other and steal shoes, purses and other items which they threaten to drench in the water. Not serious, the only result of this behaviour is a few laughs and occasionally a semi distressed teenager trapped behind the jets as her shoe is being brandished threateningly near the water by a fellow girlfriend. One young man -- maybe he is 16, picks up his brother of about 10 and carries him into the fountain, holding him casually in the jets. His brother is delighted and laughs and then is carried out and held for a minute before being set down gently. This is repeated once or twice.
It doesn't take long to soak in this scene -- a few minutes at most. Suddenly the jets all go up at once ... and then up, up, up! Higher and full force, higher than I had seen them. Up, up up! and then just uuuupppppp! All the jets in all of the rings creating a most marvelous display. Before I know what is happening, I simply jump up and walk toward the fountain. I enter the fountain gracefully and slowly just like an adult. I pause in one of the jets, my vision slightly blurred by water.
But as soon as the water hits me, I begin discovering that I am not there to be casual, and I am not there to be graceful. I am there to delight in every way, adult or not. And that is exactly when I take off running across the fountain, so much water drenching me that I cannot see. Splash, splash, splash each time I made it through a ring, and just a second or two in between. I still cannot really see, so I estimate where the last row of jets are, do a 180, and sprint back across the fountain. Splashing through doors, tunnels, archways, fields, runways, ballrooms, vast oceans and playgrounds filled with water sculpture, laughing as I pass the blurred forms of small children dancing and screaming in delight. Safely on the other side, exiting the fountain as suddenly as I entered, completely blinded by water sheeting off my hair.
I wipe down my head and face and peer around -- everything still slightly blurred since I had left my glasses behind with the rest of my stuff. Finally, I look to my right and there are the 10 teens just staring at me. As a matter of fact, a LOT of people are staring at me. Completely drenched down to the underwear, I parked myself next to my stuff and picked up with the last paragraph I had read in my book.
I am not a spectator in my life. I am alive and vibrant, basking in the sunshine. And that is the best part of vacation. Centennial park.
The fountain spits forth copious amounts of water in jets, randomly. It sometimes starts slow, one jet at a time around each ring. Other times a whole ring of jets shoot water up at once. Sometimes there is a slow meandering trail, and occasionally all the jets fire at once, completing a water pattern of the Olympic rings. Kids laugh and scream with delight. Running randomly through the fountain, sometimes following the jets, sometimes running from the jets of water. Few adults enter the fountain, but usually with grace and poise, waiting in the center of the rings in order to get a light sprinkle, sometimes putting forth a leg or arm into the jets. A few brave souls actually stand in a way so that they become quite damp and then retire to sit in the sun and watch their kids.
Next to me is a group of about 10 teens. They strut into the fountain's center and then wait for the water to shoot up around them. Talking on their phones, they joke to each other and steal shoes, purses and other items which they threaten to drench in the water. Not serious, the only result of this behaviour is a few laughs and occasionally a semi distressed teenager trapped behind the jets as her shoe is being brandished threateningly near the water by a fellow girlfriend. One young man -- maybe he is 16, picks up his brother of about 10 and carries him into the fountain, holding him casually in the jets. His brother is delighted and laughs and then is carried out and held for a minute before being set down gently. This is repeated once or twice.
It doesn't take long to soak in this scene -- a few minutes at most. Suddenly the jets all go up at once ... and then up, up, up! Higher and full force, higher than I had seen them. Up, up up! and then just uuuupppppp! All the jets in all of the rings creating a most marvelous display. Before I know what is happening, I simply jump up and walk toward the fountain. I enter the fountain gracefully and slowly just like an adult. I pause in one of the jets, my vision slightly blurred by water.
But as soon as the water hits me, I begin discovering that I am not there to be casual, and I am not there to be graceful. I am there to delight in every way, adult or not. And that is exactly when I take off running across the fountain, so much water drenching me that I cannot see. Splash, splash, splash each time I made it through a ring, and just a second or two in between. I still cannot really see, so I estimate where the last row of jets are, do a 180, and sprint back across the fountain. Splashing through doors, tunnels, archways, fields, runways, ballrooms, vast oceans and playgrounds filled with water sculpture, laughing as I pass the blurred forms of small children dancing and screaming in delight. Safely on the other side, exiting the fountain as suddenly as I entered, completely blinded by water sheeting off my hair.
I wipe down my head and face and peer around -- everything still slightly blurred since I had left my glasses behind with the rest of my stuff. Finally, I look to my right and there are the 10 teens just staring at me. As a matter of fact, a LOT of people are staring at me. Completely drenched down to the underwear, I parked myself next to my stuff and picked up with the last paragraph I had read in my book.
I am not a spectator in my life. I am alive and vibrant, basking in the sunshine. And that is the best part of vacation. Centennial park.
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