Feeling like Sandra Bullock

Have you seen “Gravity”?

And, no, I don’t mean “ the gravitational attraction of the mass of the earth, the moon, or a planet for bodies at or near its surface” (thanks, Merriam-Webster).

I mean “Gravity,” the movie.

There’s a part early on in the movie (spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t seen it, though I’m guessing it’s probably that not big a spoiler), where Sandra — the astronaut — is knocked from the arm of a space shuttle into space by, well, to put it technically “a bunch of satellite debris going really fast.”

So, anyways, she gets flung into space and does what you and I would typically do if we were flung off into space, not knowing which end was up, or right or left. She panics. And then panics a bit more. And breathes fast. Really fast. And tries desperately to orient herself.

Well, that’s how I feel right about now. Lots of change happening in my life. From family to home to friends to everything in between. And, somehow, my life isn’t staying perfectly on the tracks I so thoughtfully laid out for it many years ago. As if my life has a mind of its own.

So, I’m tumbling. And checking my helmet for cracks and my air gauge for, well, air. And trying to find a way to orient myself when the horizon keeps shifting, the stars keep spinning, and the large tree that used to be over there is now over there.

There are many names for what this feels like.

Some might call it a “dark night of the soul,” which fits in well with the space theme. Others might say it’s like being in the middle of a great Quest and realizing that you forgot the magic ring in your bedside table, next to the Sucrets. While still others might just say it’s part and parcel a normal part of life, when that life suddenly decides to grab the wheel out of your hands and make a quick right down a deserted gravel road.

Yeah, I know I’m rambling. And still tumbling.

Why am I telling you? Because, misery loves company, or at least someone who stops by with a nice lasagna. And it’s good to know that, while we’re tumbling through space, that others might be tumbling along with us, too. Or have tumbled. Or will soon be tumbling.

Now, that doesn’t mean I wish this on anyone, but if they happen to be in the tumbling vicinity, it sure would be good to be able to share a word of comfort or at least a pun.

How will I right myself? How will I find a level place to stand?

Well, it starts right here.

By writing it down. And sharing it.

And then listening.

For an echo.

For you.