Not long ago, I visited Thorpe park with my family.
I’m a lucky owner of a Merlin Premium annual pass, and therefore can essentially visit such attractions regularly (though, due to exams, I haven’t taken advantage of it entirely), so it’s a lot easier than it used to be. Aside, of course, the transport. If the transport improved, I would be over the moon.
It soon became apparent that it was certainly not busy, on that particular day. Most rides were those that you could walk on, with no or a minimal queue. This had the exception of Saw; A 30 minute queue is the longest I’ve seen it in a while, but considering my 3 hour queue experiences in the past, I should be grateful. We didn’t even get to ride on saw, as it was shut down whilst we were queueing.
A ride my sister and I did get to go on was Swarm. Three times. My sister and I went on my favourite ride three times, consecutively, as there was absolutely no queue. Zero people. We walked onto it. This concept made me absolutely glow as I adore the ride, and you usually have to wait a fair time for the thriller.
Aside the fact that the best rollercoaster at the theme park, in my opinion, had no one willing to ride on it, there was something else pretty significant about my Swarm experience today; An omen.
This may sound very odd, but something happened whilst I was on Swarm for the second time, and how I took the omen was actually both anxiety inducing and inspirational.
Personally, I participate in a constant feud with even numbers, anyway. I hate them (they’re evil), so riding Swarm for a second time made me adamant that something bad was going to happen. I already ever so slightly fear all of the negative potentials a rollercoaster may result in.
Just as the rollercoaster set off, I saw a dragonfly land a few carriages ahead, but as we were ascending Swarm’s slope, the beautiful insect faced the wind and lost grip. However, it decided to give the coaster another go, and landed right next to where my hand lay. I watched it steadily cling on for the duration of the climb, but as soon as swarm began on its course of twists, turns and loops, the dragonfly appeared to have been swept off of the carriage by the strong winds and whips. This, to me, meant something bad, and I spent the entire ride in a state of panic about what this insect’s unfortunate fate could mean for myself. This was probably due to the fact I see life in a very metaphorical way, rather frequently.
You’re probably questioning why I’ve referred to a bug’s ability to survive a rollercoaster ride at a highly acclaimed theme park ‘extraordinary’, but it’s what happened at the end of the ride that got me.
I was very much under the impression that the dragonfly had been unable to battle the resistance of the wind and took it upon itself to fly away, but I was wrong. As the carriage came to a stop, the insect once more came into my eyeline, spreading its wings wide, and after a short moment, flying away. It was evident that the dragonfly had not lost grip of the carriage, despite how difficult I imagine it would have been.
Now, this, I saw as an inspiration. Through the rollercoaster ride (which you could metaphorically take to be life and all it’s ups and downs, twist and turns, thrills and fears), the dragonfly clung on (surviving, getting through, being strong and determined), and at the end, happily flew away, continuing with life and potentially facing the same sequence in the future. But all that time, it clung on; It survived. And I think that gives off a pretty motivational message.
Love always, Lauren xxx