I should proably begin by saying that this post isn't all my own work. In fact, I think most of the credit should go to my ex-rabbi. I remember sitting in Shul, looking at all the finery around me and trying not to cry because his sermon was so beautiful that I thought I might start weeping. I think I might have, and I've never, ever forgotten that sermon. Since then, my life has gone up and down- more on this later- but only today did I really come to appreciate how meaningful the rollercoaster metaphor was.

I won't try and articulate my rabbi's entire sermon. I'm no-where near as eloquent as he is, and I'd fall falt on my face. Instead, I'll try and give a quick insight into it. Basically, life is a rollercoaster. Why? Because it goes up and down, and it's exhilirating and terrifying and thrilling- but that's not all. What makes it rollercoaster-like, as opposed to lift or escalator-like is because a rollercoaster is absolutely petryifying if you're all alone, sitting on it and screaming with no-onr to hear. But sit next to someone- not just any old person, someone special- and all of a sudden the sheer drops are scary but kind of manageable. There's something- someone- to cling onto. There's some hope, some unity, there. It goes from I cannot do this to yes, WE can do this! And what's more, you get to share your delight when you encounter the exhilirating peaks, as well as the not-so-thrilling drops.

Sound familiar?

Correct. The rollercoaster is a metaphor for life. Your life, my life- everyone's life. And it took today of all days for me to realise that Rabbi F's sermon wasn't just good, brilliant, tear-jerking, etcetera, but it was actually the story of my life.


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Published by Lily Smythe