It promised to be a fun team bonding experience to unite volunteers, staff and parents alike. It was April and sunny. Transport there and back was being provided. The entire day was to be spent outdoors, hiding and seeking with different coloured flags, canoeing in the nearby river and saving each other from swamp monsters with ropes, hula hoops and planks of wood.
It would be a whole day off from motherhood- playing with other grown ups instead. And best of all- it was FREE.
The day unfolded as promised and for the most part was a bonding experience- aside from a brief altercation between 2 teams when some treasure (a selection of small beach balls) was stolen from one canoe by an opposing team. Words were exchanged, paddles were splashed on purpose and a few of us ended up caught in the cross fire and joined in the splashing more than anyone- just because we were wet and reckoned everyone else should be. However, it ended well with us all singing Wonderwall very loudly and badly and laughing a lot.
The bestest bonding bit wasn't
The most adventurous bonding bit was the Pamper Pole: a 25' telegraph pole with handles all the way up, a small platform at the top and a trapeze suspended 8' away, tantilisingly close but hopelessly out of reach unless you STOOD on the platform and jumped out towards it. The team had to take it in turns to scale the pole, stand on the platform at the top, then jump into mid air towards the trapeze and hang there for a few seconds before being lowered safely to the ground by the rest of the team, who had solemnly sworn to prevent death by plummeting.
Cool. Bring it on. Heights don't really bother me. I love white knuckle stuff as long as it DOESN'T involve spinning, which the Pamper Pole so far had shown no signs of. We watched with excitement as others took their turns. We held the rope for the climbers on our watch. We cheered when team mates reached the top and jumped. In unison we lowered the victor back to earth and high fived them on touch down. We commiserated the ones who climbed back down, muttering 'I just CAN'T do it...' and then it was my turn!
I climbed into a safety harness, got secured into it by our instructor and approached the Pamper Pole. It was just like any telegraph pole in any street in the country. I wondered if they got them from the same supplier? I began my ascent, feeling at once the pull on the safety harness as my team mates tensioned the overhead rope to support me. I climbed quickly and easily, feeling like a squirrel. I thought how novel it was to not see the world from a 5'6'' perspective. I marvelled at how quickly everything falls away and how privileged squirrels are being able to do this without bulky ropes and chains. Rung by rung I climbed, not even out of breath, impressed at how much height can be achieved in such a short time and how tiny... the people... on the ground... had suddenly become...
I was half way up.
I kept on climbing but slowed my pace, suddenly missing my 5'6'' view of everything. Look up- not down. That's it, the Pole is still right there in front of you. Embrace the Pole. It is your friend. One rung at a time. Then embrace. Next rung. And embrace. Now the next rung. And embrace. Now the next rung. And... I seem to have run out of Pole.
There's only sky up here and NOTHING to hold onto! Now that I've reached it, the platform that looked so solid and reliable and perfectly adequate to accommodate a pair of feet has shrunk to the size of an A4 piece of paper. I'm not sure how to manoeuvre myself into a position where I can actually stand up on it. Not without my friend, the Pole.
My team yell encouraging things from the ground and I'm constantly aware of the tension in my harness. I KNOW I won't fall to the ground and die painfully. But from a position of leaning horizontally over the platform, hugging it into my chest, I'm not sure how to progress to standing on top of it and not be hugging anything. I have been sitting and standing for many years now, but right at this moment 25' up in the air I can't seem to remember how to do the bit in the middle.
Maybe I'm not that fond of heights after all? The parting words of my mother play back in my head when I left her babysitting that morning, 'Just remember Jennifer- Be Careful. You have 3 children at home!'
I compromised. I maneuvered awkwardly into a sitting position and sat on the platform instead. I desperately wanted to stand on it but the instructions on how to do this were missing from my brain. After a minute or two of sitting I pushed off and l a u n c h e d myself in the direction of the trapeze. I touched it, the team lowered me back to earth and cheered when I landed, and then it was all over and the next climber, already harnessed in, began to climb the Pole.
Ah well. Sitting is OK. It's not as good as standing, but it's more exciting than climbing halfway up then climbing halfway back down again.
I thought I was OK with heights until I was way much further from the ground than normal. It turns out, I don't really like heights at all.
This is true of many other things I'm sure. How many beliefs do we have about ourselves and each other that have never been tested by way of contrast to see if they are accurate? I may think I'm pretty laid back or reasonable, but unless I'm faced with someone who is controlling or unreasonable (or BOTH), and manage to retain these qualities, how do I know?
Seriously- just how easy is it to show generosity to a greedy person?
Or to meet sarcasm with courtesy?
How about being reeeaaallly mega reasonable to someone who so isn't?
Not that I know any such people at all in real life or anything. (Whoah no- I'm only supposing).
I bet responding with courtesy in the face of its absence is just like trying to stand up on a teeny weeny wobbly platform a mile into the air when you are not a squirrel.
And being reasonable to those who lack it is probably doable, but not something that is natural or easy. And a safety harness (in some cases provided by a solicitor) would be advisable.
