The Yo-Yo Effect

If you’ve ever flung a yo-yo tethered to your finger, you know it comes right back to your hand. One moment it’s close to you and the next moment it’s as far away as the string will allow. During my walk, I felt as though my eyes were yo-yoing back and forth from vista views to close-ups.

The walk began in a field of tall grass, swaying to and fro in the whipping wind. Each blade had little control as it appeared to flail helplessly about. But when I took in the overall picture, the motion seemed synchronized and the seed heads seemed to be bending in unison. I wondered: When I feel directionless, am I actually following a greater path unaware?

When I approached a log bench, I felt invited to rest in its friendly open jaw, feel its solid, weathered surface and look closely into its knotty eyes. However, I was also encouraged to look out over a cliff to the vast blue ocean. I wondered: When I feel close to the edge, can I remain there and let myself experience the fear of risk, knowing I am enveloped and protected by a welcoming Presence?

As I made my way down to a tide pool, an ice plant flower beckoned me closer and I saw a gooey, starry cosmos there shielded by a plethora of petals. I continued on and when I arrived at the tide pool, I peered into the clear water and discovered a genesis of life in the form of tiny tadpoles. I wondered: When I look closely at my inner self, does it reflect the greater cosmic Spirit?

I pressed on past large pools of algae, mounds of California poppies and barren, rocky shores. I began to realize how helpful the yo-yo effect is, for it allows me to see others and myself from varying perspectives—and to consider that even the smallest thread I find may be part of a grand tapestry.

All photos © Sondra Sula.