In Sally Swift’s Centered Riding 1, she suggests that horseback riders use the image of a balloon, in order to bring the spine into better alignment. She further suggests picturing it attached to the head. Eric Franklin, in Dynamic Imagery, says that the more vivid the image, the stronger the mind/body relationship will be.

My balloon is mylar, silver, it says on it, “UP!” in bright blue. Sometimes it rattles in the wind.

The use of imagery works for me quite well; though, I understand that it does not work as well for other people.

Yesterday I had a balloon-related image come to mind, and I have not been able to shake it, so I am going to run with it. I pictured me as being the balloon and Pete holding the string. This is the most apt description of our relationship that I have yet to come up with.

I am the balloon, the one who has her head in the sky. Pete is the balloon holder, the one who has his feet rooted to the ground. I am the one who will (as I did yesterday) read a poem at the breakfast table and spend the rest of the day thinking about it. The poem in question was by Connie Voisine and entitled Testimony. It’s about the subject of want, my favorite stanzas being “The foot wants to be the brain who always gets to choose” and ”The Brain wants to be the feet dumb in their shoes.”

Pete said that the poem should have been called Desire because it is about what various things (say, for example, the brain wants), and I said no, that his title was too literal and that the writer’s title, being more figurative, left more to the imagination. He also said that one thing wanting to be another meant that it was not happy. I didn’t agree with this, either.

We then went about our day. Pete, the anchor, went and got wood, went to a meeting, and went to the store. I, the balloon, continued to think about this poem at length as I engaged in the mindless task of picking up horse manure and walking horses. I decided that the title was that of an omniscient narrator who was making these factual statements, so she was in essence, testifying. I also decided that, yes, Pete was right about desire being related to a lack of happiness.

I could use the excuse that I was trained, in taking innumerable literature classes, to think such things out, and as importantly, that this is a permissible activity. Imagine it, a literature class and the teacher and the students are balloons, tied to chairs.

I fear that someday Pete may get tired of holding onto the string and will let go of me. Then both of his hands will be free, meaning that he’ll be able to do more hands on activities. And I will float skyward and eventually burst. Yes, this is what I fear. In the meantime, I happily ponder that which I think needs to be pondered. To what end? That’s a question for another day.

Next: 325. 11/21/18: Reality Rears its Loathsome Head