Ridin' On the Carousel of Time

Disneyland's Carousel

Carousels have always held a special romantic fascination for me.  Perhaps it's the sound of the calliope playing that out-of-tune, strangely surreal music while glossy, painted ponies go up and down, and up and down.  It's as if the world outside becomes nothing more than a colorful blur, like a watercolor painting that's been left out in the rain.   Maybe it's just the simple sound of children's excitement as our horses charge us through faint whiffs of popcorn and cotton candy that hang in the air.  

Then again, perhaps the fascination for me lies with that gold ring, which has always been just outside my reach.  

When I was young, the cost for this 60-second ride was no more than a dime. Unfortunately, the price to recreate this childhood nostalgia has dramatically increased.

The Carnival of Animals -near MOMA in San Francisco

Restored turn of the century carousel outside the walled in city of St. Malo, France

Lately, I've begun to think that my attraction to the carousels is due to the way they tend to mirror my life ...electric, always moving, bright and colorful. However, these last few months, I've been forced to face the mirror and ask myself a few painful questions:  "Am I going in circles?  check."  "Is the world outside a blur?  check."  "Has reaching for the gold ring lately been more frustrating than fun?  check."  

So, with wobbly knees and a feeling that's more than a little dizzy, it's time to get off my horse and step off the ride, for a wee bit anyway.

After spending a horrific night with a twisted intestine, this non-characteristic decision came to me while I was resting comfortably at the nearby Kailua hospital.  The beautiful beach outside my apartment, the swaying palm trees, my study of the dolphins  -it all came to an abrupt end within a matter of a few hours.

Now the wonderful thing about a hospital stay is that it gives one ample opportunity to reflect upon all those lifestyle choices that put them on their backside in the first place. This wonderful time of reflection for me cost approximately $10,000 for a 36-hour stay!  

So, a bittersweet decision has been made.  While I have loved living in Sweden over these past few years, I will be returning to the States.  My furniture will once again cross the Atlantic Ocean, go through the Panama Canal, and follow the shoreline up the Pacific Ocean until it arrives at port.  I haven't decided exactly 'which' port yet, but hopefully, this will be resolved by the end of May, as that's when the furniture will be leaving, and shipping companies have no sense of humor when it comes to sketchy logistics!

Rather than dwell on the sadness of leaving, I am trying to focus on what I will be gaining.  #1.  In many ways, life will become easier as I put down roots, rather than having to fly back and forth between two continents in order to keep a tourist visa in legal status. #2.  By networking within a community, I will have more opportunity to work with wildlife and domestic animals on a routine basis.  #3.  Medical insurance -this needs no explanation!  

But last of all, perhaps by simplifying my life a bit,

that elusive gold ring will be a little more within reach.

Lesson Learned:

Respect your limitations as well as your strengths

~by doing so, you will stay in balance.

&

Generally speaking, if you start to feel sick, 

it's probably time to get off the merry-go-round!