The fridge light floods the kitchen floor. A tub of yogurt I’ve been searching for in my dreams for what feels like hours, is right there; centre shelf, middle of my view. I extend my hand to reach for it and then stop. What was that? A gurgle? A groan? a … laugh? impossible… My stomach must be talking. Midnight snacks usually happen when your tummy is rumbling. I reach again towards the plain white container of yogurt… It looks familiar now. This whole thing feels odd. I don’t often indulge in dairy products. They usually leave me, well, gurgling and groaning… Yet here I am still reaching forward. Almost as if I can’t control my impulse.
The Stuff, the label says. Even that sits funny. Where have I heard of that product before? Who bought this stuff? I try to retract my hand, beginning to think better of my choice. The yogurt, though, seems to have a different force pulling me in. It’s as if The Stuff was Alive????
This can’t be a thing? The lid opens on the container, from within? Something forced it open? How can that be? Yogurt doesn’t move? Doesn’t think? Doesn’t NEED? Still the lid came ajar and the yogurt itself bubbled up over the edge of the container and began to move down the side of the container, as if to reach for my hand. My fingers, outstretched, shaking, now inches from the ever growing blob of white… STUFF?
I need to scream. I need to escape. I need to NOT EAT THIS STUFF!!! Make this stop… must make this stop…
…. and then I’m sitting upright in my bed. A bit sweaty. A bit shaken. A bit relieved I hadn’t actually eaten that alive yogurt from my dream. 1980’s B horror movies can really mess with your head.
There are no Dinosaurs in Tennessee.
I keep telling myself that. I’ve given up watching scary things these last few months. That leaves our movie choices to Oceans Eight and Mama Mia. Ask me how much dear husband will be happy when this is over? But last weekend I agreed to watch Jurassic World. Because, frankly, there are no dinosaurs in Tennessee. My Chiropractor asked me this morning if I was nervous or afraid for the adventure?
“There are no dinosaurs in Tennessee. Surely I’ll be just fine.” Was my reply. The secretary, who had a bit of back story, suggested I go home and watch Deliverance. I left their office with a chuckle and, white cane extended and ears to the ground, began navigating the construction nightmare that was their parking lot, and my entire street.
I have these skills. Let’s call them Batskills. In truth they are Orientation and Mobility training skills. Given to me gratefully throughout my high school years. They help me make educated decisions before crossing a road. They help me assess and evaluate before jumping into a thing. Trust me when I say, they are always in use. As I walked home and approached the only road I needed to cross, I followed all the bat skills I had.
Wait.
Line yourself up with the intersection.
Listen.
Assess.
Make a judgment call.
800 meters from my door I did this thing. It was a “T” intersection. One car turning left from the road to the right. One truck waiting to turn right from the road I intended to cross. I arrived with the truck. Car was in mid turn. Cane out. Lined up to cross. After car turned, I made my way to cross. It was distinctly my turn. However much that may have been true, the driver of the truck disagreed. Did not care. Did not rethink. Did not wait.
It continues to amaze me how little of the world people with vision actually see.
I stopped. A foot from harm. Not willing to take on this battle today. Another day, perhaps I’d make more of a stink. Perhaps I’d have been more startled. Perhaps i’d have reacted a bit differently.
800 meters from my door and I can’t help but think…. Well fuck. This is gonna suck.
What was I thinking?
Scary movies out. Time spent in my own fear kept to a minimum these days. I cannot sit still. I cannot stand and wait for the kettle to boil without shaking. Can’t seem to brush my teeth without crying.
I suppose it’s because I feel this way in my every day that I have to do this. I should not feel less than simply because the Way is inaccessible. I should not need to quiet my voice of frustration to make life easier for those who have no issues navigating the world.
My insides are screaming. My heart is exploding. There is a want that yells louder than the fear. Do not ask me if I want to do this. Please ask me if I must.
The world is a big place. So very big. The world has so many moving parts.
The last of my bags packed and now loaded in the truck, I have one last task; I needed to assign a distinct text tone to my crew captain Chris. This is so when I’m running I can pick it out against the endless traffic and other sounds. Can you guess what I chose?
A T-Rex roar….
So maybe I’m a bit wrong. Maybe there are dinosaurs in Tennessee?
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