who would have guessed

January 15, 2011

After 6 months of riding the tram, twice a day, nearly 5 days a week, I’ve been noticing  it really doesn’t bother me any more — being up that high and enclosed in that space.  In fact, sometimes I enjoy the ride. I first noticed a shift back in November, when I stayed later at work than I normally do on a couple different occasions. It was dark when I rode down and it was so cool to look out and see the city all lit up.

While, I often still sit in on one of the little jump seats on the way up, I’m ok if I don’t. And if it’s a beautiful sunrise, I’d rather stand and look out.

On the way down I try to maneuver close to the back windows where I can stand at look at the skyline or the traffic or houses below us. Sometimes I like to look back at the hospital as we speed away from it, tracing the cable lines from there to where I stand hovering high over the ground.

This morning the wind whooshed up against the cabin and rocked it side to side. A guy stood beside me texting and two women stood in front of me holding on to to one of the few poles. And it was pretty amazing to me how much all of it was all ok.

I guess there is something about practice. Because I was so dang scared of heights. I’d get a feeling deep in my abdomen that felt just like “step back.” If I had testicles they would have ascended. For the first month, I hated riding the tram. Hated it. I’d stare at my shoes, stare at the floor, fold little scraps of paper I carried in my pocket, until they looked some king of modern origami. I hated when the tram slowed down right before it docked on the upper platform and it would seem to just hang there forever. But I just kept getting on and riding it. Sometimes, the change feels pretty amazing. I can’t believe willingness and exposure work.

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