Water Slide: a Metaphor for Life

I went to Suncadia, Washington for an overnight visit to their Lodge. I was with two girlfriends and between us there were six little girls all under seven. As part of the facilities we had access to the indoor swimming pool which has two water slides. The girls spotted them jutting from the side of the fitness center on the way to the Lodge. There were shouts of excitement. Please, please can we go they begged in their high pitched gleeful voices.

The next morning we trudge up the many wet cold stairs to the entrance of the slides. The nubile lifeguard informs me that of the two slides, the one on the right is slower but dark; the other faster with pockets of filtered light. Oh, and the dark one, there’s an unexpected drop off near the end, she adds.

No problem I think. I’m used to unexpected sways and drops. I have two small children.

My seven year old daughter Ella gives me a look. The “I’m afraid but don’t want to admit it look”. I’ll go first I say. I’ve never met a water slide I didn’t like.

The lifeguard gives me the nod. I sit. The water is warm and swirls about my legs. I give myself a little push off. I hear behind me Ella’s friend say, “Yay, a grown-up’s going on a water slide. Cool.”I’m thinking, yeah, I’m a cool mom. The girls call out good luck.

Then I’m going. I’m moving fast. There are bends and curves. The water gushes all around me. I feel the joyful exhilaration of a child.

But suddenly it goes dark. I mean can’t see my hand in the front of my face kind of dark. I brace against this unforeseen night, my face and body clenched.

Then I remember there is an end. At the bottom is an open, light filled room where you can see mountains and playful snow falling in a merry dance outside floor to ceiling picture windows. I force myself to relax. I feel my face soften. I let go. I enjoy the ride.

And it occurs to me that the slide o’ darkness is a great metaphor for life. We never know where the bends and curves might take us. Sometimes there are things we don’t expect. Everything goes too fast. Often we feel in the dark, unable to determine the next right step in our journey. And we never, no matter how much we want to, know where we’re going.

All we can do is give it up to God, enjoying what we can of this blind joyous ride, knowing at the end there will be a space filled with light and the delighted cries of our loved ones awaiting us.

Tess Hardwick is a novelist, playwright. She is busy writing her second novel and raising two daughters ages 7 and 4. Her first novel “Riversong” will be coming out in the spring of 2011.