Sunday, May 27, 2012

Don't Trust That Bridge!




There are a lot of bridges where I live.  They come in all shapes and sizes, with many reasons for their existence.  Some bridges barely take two strides while crossing to the other side, and yet these small structures are placed with great care on manicured lawns so that their owners can visit whichever side’s grass is greenest.


Then there are the rustic, sometimes rickety bridges that one sees when driving down a country lane.  Rickety bridges that have seen better days and yet they still serve a purpose. These bridges can form a tangible bond between a farmer and the livestock he tends.  They are sometimes seen as the link between the present and the past; a reminder of a time when things are slower and great care is put into something as simple as the building of a country bridge.




And then there are those types of bridges that are almost beyond our capacity to comprehend.  Massively expansive structures of concrete and steel, made it seem to last for a lifetime and beyond.  The mere thought of such a bridge falling down is as foreign as the concept of a man walking on the moon might have been fifty years ago. There are two such bridges not far from where I live.  For over ten years I have traveled every day over one of them and until recently, avoided the other one like the plague.




Henley Street Bridge spans the Tennessee River, linking the bustling activity of the downtown area to the slower pace of the southern part of town.  The lanes are spacious with four from which to choose, depending on your destination, and pedestrian paths on either side allowing anyone to delay their crossing to gaze upon the expansive river below.

Each morning and afternoon I take great comfort in crossing that bridge; in the knowledge that once I cross to the other side I am either minutes from either a career I enjoy passionately or moments away from returning to my personal sanctuary.  But to me, the Gay Street Bridge is like the Henley Street Bridge’s smaller, evil twin.  Its two lanes are narrow and the river seems to lurk menacingly close by as if ready to grab an unsuspecting victim and pull them to the murky waters below.

Truth be told, I fear that bridge.  For me, it has become in my mind the sum of all the greater obstacles crossing my path in my lifetime.  That bridge has become my own personal dragon that for over ten years I am too afraid to challenge.  But all that changes one cold and dreary January morning two years ago.  It is announced that the Henley Street Bridge will be torn down in order for a more modern, structure to take its watchful place over the river.  This proclamation leaves me forced to face what I had been avoiding all these years; namely, THE BRIDGE!

Can you imagine the pulsating fear I feel the first day I detour around my beloved Henley Street Bridge to come face to face with my tormentor?  The only thing standing between work and me is that bridge.  The only thing preventing my complete peace of mind is that bridge.  With knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel, I creep across the Gay Street Bridge, eyes fearfully darting here and there at the dark waters below until I reach the other side.

I have literally held my breath the whole way across and it feels good to draw a steadying breath as I leave the evil twin behind me.  Now if I can only find another way home at the end of the day.  But there isn’t one and my fearful crossing repeats itself hours later when I find myself taking slow cautious steps to make it over the bridge in one piece and return to the safety of my home.

It’s funny now when I look back and a bit sad even to realize what power I gave to steel and stone.  To hand over my spirit to a man made object as if I have so little self-worth except when held in its evil clutches.  I cannot say that I have completely gotten over my fear of crossing that bridge.  But I have since learned to appreciate what the Gay Street Bridge unexpectedly brought to my life.  If I hadn’t been forced to cross that bridge, I never would have faced my irrational fear.  I have realized that everyday routines can make us too comfortable with our lives and being too comfortable increases the chance we will begin to fear what lies on the other side of our everyday routines.  We become unwilling, even unable, to take that first leap of faith into the unknown.

For myself, I have somewhat tamed my dragon and defeated the evil twin’s fearful grip on me.   In the process, I also managed to discover a world beyond my previously comfortable existence.  This is a world that beckons me to come and see what lies on the other side of fear.  And for that I will always be thankful for THE BRIDGE.





16 comments:

  1. This is excellent. We all have "bridges" that cause us fear. It is not easy to make ourselves cross them -- and I'm glad that you acknowledged truthfully that the first crossing didn't magically rid you of the fear. It's a process.

    And you reminded me of the Victoria Bridge in Saskatoon, Sask. also called, for reasons I don't understand, the "Traffic Bridge" -- perhaps that was a throwback to a day when it was the only drivable bridge in the city, and it was the traffic bridge to differentiate it from the railway bridge? Anyway, I lived near it one year in college. It was old, narrow, and a little fear-inducing. I got used to it, but I remember having a friend with me, who, as soon as we started across the bridge started exclaiming, "We're going to be killed! We're going to be killed!" We're both fine to this day.

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    1. Hi Beth! Nice to know you two ladies made it across your bridge okay. I don't think much about that bridge anymore whenever I'm crossing it. I can even look out over the water without feeling the darkness anymore...yes, there is progress...;0)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  2. I do understand your fear. When I was a kid I had to walk under a long dark railway bridge to get to the dentist. Not only was I petrified of the dentist, I was totally traumatized by the black girders that formed this tunnel-like structure. I still have trouble walking under those types of bridges. Thankfully there aren't many of them around any more.

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    1. Hi Rosalind. I'm sorry you had to go through that...I use to dream about traveling over bridges all the time when I was growing up...except they would open up when I was in the middle and I would fall through the hole but never seem to hit the water...

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  3. Bridges don't frighten me as much as ferries do. There is a VERY narrow bridge in Arkansas that likes to scare me. Every time I've tried crossing that bridge, there has been an eighteen wheeler coming at me from the other direction.

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    1. Hi Janet! I visited Virginia Beach one time and I really wanted to visit the other islands in the area but could never get myself to cross some of those bridges...there is one that take you UNDER the bay and it freaked me out whenever I had to travel on it...

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  4. Love that first picture. I think bridges are a little scary--your mind wills you over to the other side as quickly as possible, so there is that little place in your brain that says, "danger, danger." Your post is well written.

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    1. Awwww, thank you! I was trying my hand at an "essay" type of post and was hoping it would come across as such...;0)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  5. God appeared to an elderly gentleman.
    "Your time is near but you have been a good man so I will grant you one last wish, what would you like?"
    "I'd like to go to America" the man admitted.
    "No problem! First class air tickets, there you go"
    "Oh, I can't fly"
    "Okay,a first class ticket on a cruise ship" God offered.
    "I get sea-sick" the man frowned "Can't you build a bridge?"
    "A bridge? Don't you understand the logistics of building a bridge across the Atlantic? Is there something else you would like?"

    After some thought the man turned to God and said:
    "As a matter of fact there is. I've never been successful with ladies. I don't understand them perhaps you could teach me how they their minds work"

    God looked at the man and sighed:
    "Do you want that bridge single or double span?"

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    1. Awwww, JP, women aren't so hard to figure out...they want one of verything and they want it NOW! ;0)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  6. I like looking over the edges of high bridges, but I love balancing on a log to get across something (water, air (for the fun of it), grass, etc.).

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    1. Kid, you are much braver than I am. And probably more fun,too.

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    2. Hi Erik! My, my...you are quite the daredevil, aren't you? I think the bravest thing I've ever done in my life was the time I went mountain climbing...or maybe the time I stood in the middle of a volcano...but you wouldn't catch me on a log...;0)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  7. Balancing on a log? Uhm, no thank you. I love to see people doing it, but as for me, my feet are planted on the ground, Kid. I'm with Janet, I bet you're loads of fun.

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  8. Oh Donna, how you talk. I love your use of the various bridges in your/our lives. There's a bridge in Red River Parish that used to terrify me as a child. Also, I've allowed other "bridges" to keep me from crossing over to place my feet on new paths. However, the older I get, the more willing I am to cross: the seemingly rickety bridge, the bridge of epic proportions, even the bridge that "looks" as if it will get you know where. I'm learning to cross them all and in the words of Frost, "That has made all the difference."

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    1. Hi Pam! I feel the same way about the getting older thing and taking more chances...putting myself out there...especially with my writing.

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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