One summer (long ago) my grandparents came to visit and they brought me and my siblings blue yo-yo’s. It was the first time I’d ever played with a yo-yo and I was entranced by it. The challenge of yo-yo-ing excited me. I remember standing for long periods of time trying to perfect the motion with my clumsy fingers. My older brother was especially talented at yo-yo-ing. He could yo “around the world” or “walk the dog.” I watched enviously as he mastered trick after trick. My brother didn’t stick with the simple yo-yo’s, he saved his money and bought fancy ones that could do special things, the mechanics were quite beyond me at the time. My older brother was and continues to be very impressive in almost every way.
The metaphor is this; people are like yo-yo’s. We go up and down all over the place, even around the world, but usually we come back to one spot, a gentle, clumsy, or coordinated hand. We fail, and function, fall, rise up, and we cannot resist the pull of gravity.
I moved all my earthly belongings from one town to another this week. I packed my clothes and knick knacks, photographs, colored pencils, post cards, electronics, plates, shoes, and blankets into a van, then unpacked them somewhere else. I didn’t move to a new place, I moved home, back into the hand. I’ve noticed a lot of motion in the people surrounding me. Many are moving to different places, new or old, seeking previously unseen perspectives. I want to say goodbye to them in every language I’ve learned so far, wish them good wind and fortune, and finish with a kiss on each cheek. I’m glad that we found a common space in the world, that our strings crossed for a short time. I will continue to rise, fall, tangle, walk the dog, hold still, and wind my way around the world.
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