Carry Me
Breathing at the start was great. There was so much still to come. How would I feel at the end? Would I make it? I trusted Armen, but my upper body is not very strong, so how would I make out?
Starting out was pretty relaxing. I leaned on his head, and watched the houses and shops go by, the street and the trees. Oh, there's my car, we must be passing the cafe where we met. This isn't so bad. This is gonna be alright. Well, we're going down hill. No big deal.
People have interesting reactions. Some people just stare. One man smiled and said hello. Another said "well that's one way to get a work out." An African woman and her daughter dressed in brightly colored fabric laughed. She asked Armen if he wanted to take another one and offered her daughter for a carry as well. Interesting, they all knew that I wasn't hurt or injured, that it wasn't just silliness, but this was a premeditated activity.
I worried about Armen. How could I make it easier? He is breathing pretty heavily. I try to push up but my arms are getting tired. I pushed myself up with my legs. Armen noticed.
I could smell his sweat. I was closer to him than I've been with many, and for not knowing him very well, I got to know his scent, the smell of Armen, like I've gotten to know the scent of my mother, my sister, my husband, my cats, the scent that stays in one's bed and clothing.
Armen was sniffling, the cold making his nose run. I thought about offering my sweater to wipe his nose, but thought it would be more uncomfortable if fuzzy yarn got caught inside his nostrils.
Just after the half way point, I noticed my feet going numb. I could feel them tingling, as I rotated them to get some blood flow. The pinch in my legs was slightly more distracting from his grip.
I thought of the refugees I met in Tanzania a few summers ago, and how they walked for miles to seek some safety from their war torn countries, how they helped each other travel much further than Armen and I were traveling today. That was a matter of life or death. We rested today, but how long could the refugees rest? They endured much more than I ever have.
I thought of a movie I saw where a woman gave another woman a ride on her motorcycle. She told her to hold on tight, that it wasn't about sex, it was about not falling off. I held on tight to Armen for the same reason.
As we traveled back up the hill, the sidewalks were quite icy. We slipped once, but he regained his footing. I felt much more worried about his safety than my own. I felt safe. I'm not sure if it was his commitment or dedication, or that I knew him from a contact dance class so had already built up some trust, but I was not worried about my safety at all.
I felt awful when my shoe fell off my left foot and Armen had to pick it up. At least we were already stopped for a rest. I didn't even feel it happen because my foot was numb. I hoped I could keep my shoes on for the rest of the journey. I did.
Approaching the crest of the hill, I told him so, and he said he thinks of this as the easy part. I thought maybe he was a little crazy, or maybe he was of such sound mind that he could put his mind over the physical matter of pain or fatigue. Whatever you say pal, I'm still gonna do my best to push my weight up off of yours, make it as easy for you as I can.
Going down hill I thought would be the easiest, but with the ice, it was quite challenging, so we went slowly. I shut my eyes. I didn't need to navigate. It was more important for me to concentrate on my strength, or whatever was left of it.
When we got back to where we started, Armen said that he would circle the monument. Oy vey, I thought, go for it. I wasn't too excited to get off his back, although I knew it would bring relief. As soon as I stood, I realized why I had some resistance to getting down. My feet and legs were completely numb. I couldn't move for fear of falling over. I started at the ocean and asked for my strength to return. I slowly shifted weight to one leg. Not quite ready. I waited longer. When the shifting didn't hurt and I felt some balance, I turned around and looked at where we came from.
I can't believe we just did that! Wow! I am so lucky to know beautiful people in my life, artists who can feel and relate to others in such special ways, intimacy that isn't sketchy or full of expectations, respect for the body, the soul, the mind. What a treat to participate in this event, and a touch of sadness that it takes a special offering of a project to bring people together, that the building of community and sharing of love and intimacy doesn't happen to be part of human nature today, or at least here in Maine today. Thanks Armen, for this special gift. There's no time like the present.
Rachel
West End
Portland, Maine
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
4
On being carried
At first it was almost obtrusive. The feeling of acute pressure behind my knees was binding me, holding back the muscles in my legs from reaching their full extension.
The cold pricked my toes and my lower back tightened. My arms wrapped awkwardly around this man; hands nervously searching for a comfortable place to rest, afraid of constricting his breath.
The sensation was elusive.
Soon his arms became an organic saddle attached to the back of a strange two-legged beast. My body slumped forward on his back, head raised, looking at the path as if I was a foreigner in an unfamiliar land. I was feeling the heat and seeing the breath of my ride. My mind was pumping, converting pain into adventure, a feeling of nostalgia for an epic journey that I wasn’t undertaking.
Or was it an adventure? In its elusiveness the sensation evolved.
The arms became extensions of my legs; my body was the part of a greater being. The connection was forged. We were both the beast now. Humans were funny creatures who would smile and nod. They would accept or not notice; seemingly indifferent to the pain we were both enduring. What do these creatures think of us? Do they understand that this is an act of connection? By the act of connecting Carrier and Carried are we driving a conceptual wedge between us and mankind? They will either be touched or not notice. It doesn’t matter because We will be all the better because of it.
The journey is almost finished and a man stops his car and tells Us to get in. Is the man angry? No, he thinks I am injured and that He is carrying me to safety not realizing that he is talking to a single entity.
The journey finishes and the sensation slips into focus.
Mathew McInnis
Munjoy Hill
Portland, Maine
At first it was almost obtrusive. The feeling of acute pressure behind my knees was binding me, holding back the muscles in my legs from reaching their full extension.
The cold pricked my toes and my lower back tightened. My arms wrapped awkwardly around this man; hands nervously searching for a comfortable place to rest, afraid of constricting his breath.
The sensation was elusive.
Soon his arms became an organic saddle attached to the back of a strange two-legged beast. My body slumped forward on his back, head raised, looking at the path as if I was a foreigner in an unfamiliar land. I was feeling the heat and seeing the breath of my ride. My mind was pumping, converting pain into adventure, a feeling of nostalgia for an epic journey that I wasn’t undertaking.
Or was it an adventure? In its elusiveness the sensation evolved.
The arms became extensions of my legs; my body was the part of a greater being. The connection was forged. We were both the beast now. Humans were funny creatures who would smile and nod. They would accept or not notice; seemingly indifferent to the pain we were both enduring. What do these creatures think of us? Do they understand that this is an act of connection? By the act of connecting Carrier and Carried are we driving a conceptual wedge between us and mankind? They will either be touched or not notice. It doesn’t matter because We will be all the better because of it.
The journey is almost finished and a man stops his car and tells Us to get in. Is the man angry? No, he thinks I am injured and that He is carrying me to safety not realizing that he is talking to a single entity.
The journey finishes and the sensation slips into focus.
Mathew McInnis
Munjoy Hill
Portland, Maine
3
My first and continuing reaction: that people will think this is a bigger deal than it is. Proud that it didn’t make my heart race, thinking about this strange thing. See it wasn’t strange at all. So, pride.
Which makes me think, how do I feel about the fact that I think I’m better than other people in some ways? Am I okay with that? Why would I excuse that? Or maybe that’s not it at all; I mean how many times in the beginning of awareness, do you mislabel stuff? A lot. I think…
Well now I can’t remember
Making big claims
Like compacting decades into a snowball. And like how most snow doesn’t make the perfect snowball, I fail to make claims I feel content to throw
_ _ _
Narrow lives
Like a highway in the jungle
Everyone going over and over the same thing and it’s something like 99% of the ocean is undiscovered
But contrasting to previous judgments, now there’s nothing shameful about it.
What do I care if people do what they do
Does the anxiety stem from a wanting to belong
Am I looking out for myself or for them
But what does it matter if it’s not life threatening (the highway’s not next to a volcano)
Maybe in my heart I think it is
Or by manipulating them it just makes it easier for me to walk smoothly off the highway
Me me me
_ _ _
But how wonderfully responsive people are
Even if not coming up and saying this is intriguing, and then there’s talking and then signing up or giving those fantasized-about resources, look nakedly how nice it is that people make the effort to mix
Even with 6 billion people, we don’t have to bump into each other. We could make it happen
Instead look at the common desire! Cool.
Although this leads me to another thing. How we’re all just so freaking bored that like an addiction, at the base of brain is “gimme gimme gimme”. Make this time pass. M–u–s–t E–n–t–e–r–t–a–i–n N–o-w. And where’s the fault there? Big frackin brains. How I curse this last step of evolution.
No, half kidding because rewind and that would be so foreign: be careful what you wish for.
* reaches out for cup of tea and absently picks up pepper shaker*
_ _ _
Down to earth
Press the + button and you’ll be zoomed into Munjoy Hill, Portland ME
Watch Armen carry Jenny on his back
Good lord
But like I anticipated, not a big deal at all
Just another thing that’s happening… la-di-da do-do-do
Meditative for sure! Pinching my freaking nerves, all this “pain”. But discomfort doesn’t have to be any more special than whatever sensation you’d prefer over
But that was a choice. What is preference, ahh it’s just a decision. Every stimuli equal, it’s us that changed them. And maybe I could whine about how I’ve been conditioned, but what about starting over every second. Sure, there might be baggage for a little bit, yet look at how adaptable we can be! Actually I’m not positive about this because there’s not many people in the line of vision that push the limits. But the suspicion is there.. I’m going to hunt it down, try it out, come back with a snowball
_ _ _
Also, there’s something to be asked about only doing the things you want to do
I didn’t want to do this piggy ride
Should a timeline of just doing Whatever Whenever – something too many people call “selfish” – be looked down upon? What’s so fair about that?
Do we really have responsibilities to each other?
Well, it’s that we want each other and supposedly there are rules to follow
maybe
Jenny
Munjoy Hill
Portland, Maine
Which makes me think, how do I feel about the fact that I think I’m better than other people in some ways? Am I okay with that? Why would I excuse that? Or maybe that’s not it at all; I mean how many times in the beginning of awareness, do you mislabel stuff? A lot. I think…
Well now I can’t remember
Making big claims
Like compacting decades into a snowball. And like how most snow doesn’t make the perfect snowball, I fail to make claims I feel content to throw
_ _ _
Narrow lives
Like a highway in the jungle
Everyone going over and over the same thing and it’s something like 99% of the ocean is undiscovered
But contrasting to previous judgments, now there’s nothing shameful about it.
What do I care if people do what they do
Does the anxiety stem from a wanting to belong
Am I looking out for myself or for them
But what does it matter if it’s not life threatening (the highway’s not next to a volcano)
Maybe in my heart I think it is
Or by manipulating them it just makes it easier for me to walk smoothly off the highway
Me me me
_ _ _
But how wonderfully responsive people are
Even if not coming up and saying this is intriguing, and then there’s talking and then signing up or giving those fantasized-about resources, look nakedly how nice it is that people make the effort to mix
Even with 6 billion people, we don’t have to bump into each other. We could make it happen
Instead look at the common desire! Cool.
Although this leads me to another thing. How we’re all just so freaking bored that like an addiction, at the base of brain is “gimme gimme gimme”. Make this time pass. M–u–s–t E–n–t–e–r–t–a–i–n N–o-w. And where’s the fault there? Big frackin brains. How I curse this last step of evolution.
No, half kidding because rewind and that would be so foreign: be careful what you wish for.
* reaches out for cup of tea and absently picks up pepper shaker*
_ _ _
Down to earth
Press the + button and you’ll be zoomed into Munjoy Hill, Portland ME
Watch Armen carry Jenny on his back
Good lord
But like I anticipated, not a big deal at all
Just another thing that’s happening… la-di-da do-do-do
Meditative for sure! Pinching my freaking nerves, all this “pain”. But discomfort doesn’t have to be any more special than whatever sensation you’d prefer over
But that was a choice. What is preference, ahh it’s just a decision. Every stimuli equal, it’s us that changed them. And maybe I could whine about how I’ve been conditioned, but what about starting over every second. Sure, there might be baggage for a little bit, yet look at how adaptable we can be! Actually I’m not positive about this because there’s not many people in the line of vision that push the limits. But the suspicion is there.. I’m going to hunt it down, try it out, come back with a snowball
_ _ _
Also, there’s something to be asked about only doing the things you want to do
I didn’t want to do this piggy ride
Should a timeline of just doing Whatever Whenever – something too many people call “selfish” – be looked down upon? What’s so fair about that?
Do we really have responsibilities to each other?
Well, it’s that we want each other and supposedly there are rules to follow
maybe
Jenny
Munjoy Hill
Portland, Maine
2
Armen and I set out energetically into the snowstorm. He wore my boots and I wore my dad’s. There was a lot of new snow with a good layer of slosh underneath. We got to the first monument and looked out over the water, paying respects. Then we took a moment of pause before I mounted; a moment of quiet curiosity for what this journey had in store…mentally and physically, for each of us.
Within the first two minutes of riding Armen it was clear that this was going to be no small effort on my part. We started up the backside of Congress hill, both (I’m pretty sure) with an enthusiasm and [both, I assume] with a growing respect for the impending challenge of the task*. For me it was the sheer holding on. I was relieved when Armen bent forward, allowing me a minute’s respite from the task.
As a Vipassana meditator there is a quality of resolve called Additthan (pronounced Ah-dee-tawn). This quality, translated to mean “Strong Determination” is occasionally invoked at the beginning of a long meditation, to set a goal of complete physical stillness throughout the duration. It can sometimes (especially when I first started!) be grueling when the pain of sitting begins to escalate, but the resolve is considered essential for the development of will and for the experience of subtle realization. I realized within the first few minutes with Armen that this was going to be an Additthan for both of us.
On the other side there was an exhilaration and a simple enjoyment to be outside with my friend in the snow, with a project. The air was quite cold, and I was glad to have my gloves along with me. By the time we reached the top of Congress hill, we began to illicit attention from passersby and loiterers. A man riding another piggyback in a snowstorm up and then down the biggest hill in town turns out to be a good catalyst for pointed ironic statements from witnesses. Of this variety there were one or two comments the nature of which slip my grasp…although I do remember one exchange. A woman pulled over in her car, rolled down her window, and asked loudly. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” to which I responded, “No thanks, I’ve got one already.”
I would say that there was a phase of the event, during which thoughts of the potential of not completing the task arose with some frequency in my mind. That would have been the first fifteen minutes or so. After we got down to the traffic light at the end of the long slope, met with a straightaway until the halfway point, a strong determination was beginning to take form. Armen and I can be pretty strong-willed guys, and that facet was starting to surface, dotted with a sense of humor about the situation. At times the humor would give way to the more immediate grimacing and the periodic primal groan. For me it was essential that Armen took rest breaks, during which he bent down to a right angle and I could lie slumped for a minute or so. A few of these and Armen shared that the rest breaks were becoming quite difficult for him as well.
I found myself in a situation analogous to running the Chicago marathon a few years back…pushing mental and physical limits while encouraging, and being encouraged by, a companion to do the same. We would utter inspirational remarks to each other as we went, mostly our beliefs for the potential of success. At some point the ante seemed to up itself from project to mission. We rounded the halfway point and Armen was showing signs of significant exhaustion. We continued.
There was an aspect of exhibitionism involved- for roughly the first half I would tend to swivel and grin to anyone happening to catch my eye. Especially in those moments when Armen would bend down and I would sprawl on his back, I noticed my desire to assure passersby that there was nothing wrong with either of us. After a while I was too determined or exhausted to put effort into that. It became a more intimate and unified venture.
It was a special moment when we discovered the strap. We had tried one version of the strap earlier on, me being the backpack and my arms being the straps, with little success. Finally we found the proper strap method, with one of my hands firmly clutched by one of Armen’s, and then sort of interlocking our other two hands around the first two. Did I mention it was really cold outside?
As we started back up the big hill, Armen said he was feeling downright ecstatic, which was a welcome surprise. At this point I was pretty sure we were going to do this thing. I was feeling very committed and engaged, resigned to the level of pain that this project was entailing. Armen had a certain way of sporadically clutching my legs which gave him a bit of a break but gave me joint pain for the next several days!
And there we were on the home stretch. The monument where we had begun almost two hours prior came into view as we continued to refine our alternating hand strap. There is a special appeal to go through grueling physical feats, pushed by force of will and with an appreciation for one’s own vitality- especially with a comrade. Finally we reached the monument and I dismounted. A thought that kept coming into my head after the experience pertains to the feeling of home. Portland is a new community for me and for Armen, and I have been thinking about what it is that makes a place feel like home. Not meaning this in a sappy way, but my experience with Armen contributed to my sense of Portland as my home; to my ties with the land and certainly with him as a friend and partner in crime.
*I had weighed myself a few nights prior and found my weight a bit greater than I had indicated to Armen.
Jesse Lynch
Munjoy Hill
Portland, Maine
Within the first two minutes of riding Armen it was clear that this was going to be no small effort on my part. We started up the backside of Congress hill, both (I’m pretty sure) with an enthusiasm and [both, I assume] with a growing respect for the impending challenge of the task*. For me it was the sheer holding on. I was relieved when Armen bent forward, allowing me a minute’s respite from the task.
As a Vipassana meditator there is a quality of resolve called Additthan (pronounced Ah-dee-tawn). This quality, translated to mean “Strong Determination” is occasionally invoked at the beginning of a long meditation, to set a goal of complete physical stillness throughout the duration. It can sometimes (especially when I first started!) be grueling when the pain of sitting begins to escalate, but the resolve is considered essential for the development of will and for the experience of subtle realization. I realized within the first few minutes with Armen that this was going to be an Additthan for both of us.
On the other side there was an exhilaration and a simple enjoyment to be outside with my friend in the snow, with a project. The air was quite cold, and I was glad to have my gloves along with me. By the time we reached the top of Congress hill, we began to illicit attention from passersby and loiterers. A man riding another piggyback in a snowstorm up and then down the biggest hill in town turns out to be a good catalyst for pointed ironic statements from witnesses. Of this variety there were one or two comments the nature of which slip my grasp…although I do remember one exchange. A woman pulled over in her car, rolled down her window, and asked loudly. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” to which I responded, “No thanks, I’ve got one already.”
I would say that there was a phase of the event, during which thoughts of the potential of not completing the task arose with some frequency in my mind. That would have been the first fifteen minutes or so. After we got down to the traffic light at the end of the long slope, met with a straightaway until the halfway point, a strong determination was beginning to take form. Armen and I can be pretty strong-willed guys, and that facet was starting to surface, dotted with a sense of humor about the situation. At times the humor would give way to the more immediate grimacing and the periodic primal groan. For me it was essential that Armen took rest breaks, during which he bent down to a right angle and I could lie slumped for a minute or so. A few of these and Armen shared that the rest breaks were becoming quite difficult for him as well.
I found myself in a situation analogous to running the Chicago marathon a few years back…pushing mental and physical limits while encouraging, and being encouraged by, a companion to do the same. We would utter inspirational remarks to each other as we went, mostly our beliefs for the potential of success. At some point the ante seemed to up itself from project to mission. We rounded the halfway point and Armen was showing signs of significant exhaustion. We continued.
There was an aspect of exhibitionism involved- for roughly the first half I would tend to swivel and grin to anyone happening to catch my eye. Especially in those moments when Armen would bend down and I would sprawl on his back, I noticed my desire to assure passersby that there was nothing wrong with either of us. After a while I was too determined or exhausted to put effort into that. It became a more intimate and unified venture.
It was a special moment when we discovered the strap. We had tried one version of the strap earlier on, me being the backpack and my arms being the straps, with little success. Finally we found the proper strap method, with one of my hands firmly clutched by one of Armen’s, and then sort of interlocking our other two hands around the first two. Did I mention it was really cold outside?
As we started back up the big hill, Armen said he was feeling downright ecstatic, which was a welcome surprise. At this point I was pretty sure we were going to do this thing. I was feeling very committed and engaged, resigned to the level of pain that this project was entailing. Armen had a certain way of sporadically clutching my legs which gave him a bit of a break but gave me joint pain for the next several days!
And there we were on the home stretch. The monument where we had begun almost two hours prior came into view as we continued to refine our alternating hand strap. There is a special appeal to go through grueling physical feats, pushed by force of will and with an appreciation for one’s own vitality- especially with a comrade. Finally we reached the monument and I dismounted. A thought that kept coming into my head after the experience pertains to the feeling of home. Portland is a new community for me and for Armen, and I have been thinking about what it is that makes a place feel like home. Not meaning this in a sappy way, but my experience with Armen contributed to my sense of Portland as my home; to my ties with the land and certainly with him as a friend and partner in crime.
*I had weighed myself a few nights prior and found my weight a bit greater than I had indicated to Armen.
Jesse Lynch
Munjoy Hill
Portland, Maine
1
my experience of being carried
it was in retrospect, freeing to be carried. I have felt lighter afterwards.
In approach to meeting with Armen, I felt very excited, almost giddy with the thought of it. I imagined it was going to be fun, but also not knowing what to expect was fun. This kind of work has not crossed my path so far, and certainly not in this form. My previous experiences with being carried have been extremely positive, mostly as a child of course, and usually in a spirit of fun as an adult. when I arrived at my carry date at the hilltop coffee shop waiting for Armen to show up, it was the only time I felt nervous. I wasn't sure if I'd be cold or uncomfortable, or if it would take a really long time. I imagined my hands getting cold the way they do when jogging or riding a bike in the winter and wondered if I should have worn gloves. More so I was still excited. Armen arrived and we walked down to the bottom of the hill. he offered to get me some gloves, but I declined, deciding that I was fully prepared the way I arrived. at the base of congress street I jumped off the curb and onto his back. I tried to get a lot of height, starting our journey as lightly as possible.
The first few blocks seamed like most other times someone has given me a piggyback ride, no physically palpable difference. Just the knowledge of what this trip entailed, how far it would be to Washington monument and back, and the abstractness of the purpose of our journey. I remember thinking that i wanted to be mindful of my dialog and limit my words to what would help keep us focused on the present. It was obvious soon that Armen was generating a lot of body heat and i would not be cold. I began noticing things on congress street i hadn't seen before, and the vividness of my surroundings was heightened as even colors were brighter and the air more refreshing. Armen was getting a cardiovascular workout. I was struggling to hold myself in place, to not slide down his back. we readjusted. some people around us took notice at us. By the time we reached the top of munjoy hill, i questioned whether i had heard Armen correctly when he said we were going to monument square and back. i thought we might not make it back.
I was definitely experiencing more physical discomfort than I expected at this point. I was thinking about what it would be like if I couldn't walk and I had to be carried long distances. I realized how uncomfortable it would be to ride an animal for a long distance. This inspired me to push into Armen's sides with my thighs, which was relieving to both of us. It enabled my spine to carry a lot of my weight, although the impact between Armen' s hips and my thighs felt like it would leave a bruise. That didn't seem important though, as I felt a strong drive to just keep my mind and breath focused on completing the mission. i thought again that Armen surely wouldn't make the return trip, but tried not to pay attention to that thought.
I thought of running long distances and techniques to work through discomfort. My feet were falling asleep due to the pressure against the back of my thighs. We took several breaks, which were extremely relieving as my body was able to simply hang over Armen's back. Finally, we were almost to monument square. The sidewalks became mostly concrete, and I felt the shock of the impact more severely than on the brick. Armen carried me around the back of the square and back up towards munjoy hill. I almost couldn't believe we were really making the return trip. This was a lot of work, but I felt it would be worth it. My feet and legs began to fall asleep again, and we took a break. Some people around us were so distracted that they didn't seem at all interested in what we were doing. A few seemed to appreciate it.
As we ascended the western slope of munjoy hill, I was imagining the sciatic nerves in my thighs being impinged, causing the absence of sensation in my feet. I wondered whether this could actually injure me in the time it would take to finish, or if it was merely uncomfortable. Was the blood flow to the nerves being cut off? Would my legs be temporarily paralyzed? I wanted to encourage our momentum. I felt like Armen and i were a single unit. I hesitated to ask for a break, as I wanted to go as far as possible first. I decided that I would ask him to stop when we passed the hilltop coffee shop. As we approached it, Armen stopped. I waited a long time as sensation returned to my feet before I was ready to go on. We had just a short leg left, although Armen said that the downhills were more difficult for him. As we walked down the hill, something inside me spontaneously released, and my head leaned forward against Armen's, breaking through a personal space "bubble" I didn't' know was there, and suddenly the carriage was easier than ever.
I felt more relaxed, and I was able to hold a great deal more of my own weight. Armen was lighter and faster, I think we both laughed. There was suddenly just a few short blocks to go. I was almost sad to be finished, but not really. It took much less time than I expected. We approached the curb. I jumped off Armen's back. We hugged. Though we took breaks, I stayed on his back until the journey was done. I was pretty bliss-filled, although my legs, which had regained all feeling, seemed to have forgotten how gravity works.
Armen walked me back to my car, and we talked a little and I drove away. I retained the feeling of bliss for the rest of the day, and had waves of good feeling wash over me several times. It was unexpectedly hard, but I felt rewarded. I still feel lighter, and more opened.
Janet Rowles
Harpswell, Maine
it was in retrospect, freeing to be carried. I have felt lighter afterwards.
In approach to meeting with Armen, I felt very excited, almost giddy with the thought of it. I imagined it was going to be fun, but also not knowing what to expect was fun. This kind of work has not crossed my path so far, and certainly not in this form. My previous experiences with being carried have been extremely positive, mostly as a child of course, and usually in a spirit of fun as an adult. when I arrived at my carry date at the hilltop coffee shop waiting for Armen to show up, it was the only time I felt nervous. I wasn't sure if I'd be cold or uncomfortable, or if it would take a really long time. I imagined my hands getting cold the way they do when jogging or riding a bike in the winter and wondered if I should have worn gloves. More so I was still excited. Armen arrived and we walked down to the bottom of the hill. he offered to get me some gloves, but I declined, deciding that I was fully prepared the way I arrived. at the base of congress street I jumped off the curb and onto his back. I tried to get a lot of height, starting our journey as lightly as possible.
The first few blocks seamed like most other times someone has given me a piggyback ride, no physically palpable difference. Just the knowledge of what this trip entailed, how far it would be to Washington monument and back, and the abstractness of the purpose of our journey. I remember thinking that i wanted to be mindful of my dialog and limit my words to what would help keep us focused on the present. It was obvious soon that Armen was generating a lot of body heat and i would not be cold. I began noticing things on congress street i hadn't seen before, and the vividness of my surroundings was heightened as even colors were brighter and the air more refreshing. Armen was getting a cardiovascular workout. I was struggling to hold myself in place, to not slide down his back. we readjusted. some people around us took notice at us. By the time we reached the top of munjoy hill, i questioned whether i had heard Armen correctly when he said we were going to monument square and back. i thought we might not make it back.
I was definitely experiencing more physical discomfort than I expected at this point. I was thinking about what it would be like if I couldn't walk and I had to be carried long distances. I realized how uncomfortable it would be to ride an animal for a long distance. This inspired me to push into Armen's sides with my thighs, which was relieving to both of us. It enabled my spine to carry a lot of my weight, although the impact between Armen' s hips and my thighs felt like it would leave a bruise. That didn't seem important though, as I felt a strong drive to just keep my mind and breath focused on completing the mission. i thought again that Armen surely wouldn't make the return trip, but tried not to pay attention to that thought.
I thought of running long distances and techniques to work through discomfort. My feet were falling asleep due to the pressure against the back of my thighs. We took several breaks, which were extremely relieving as my body was able to simply hang over Armen's back. Finally, we were almost to monument square. The sidewalks became mostly concrete, and I felt the shock of the impact more severely than on the brick. Armen carried me around the back of the square and back up towards munjoy hill. I almost couldn't believe we were really making the return trip. This was a lot of work, but I felt it would be worth it. My feet and legs began to fall asleep again, and we took a break. Some people around us were so distracted that they didn't seem at all interested in what we were doing. A few seemed to appreciate it.
As we ascended the western slope of munjoy hill, I was imagining the sciatic nerves in my thighs being impinged, causing the absence of sensation in my feet. I wondered whether this could actually injure me in the time it would take to finish, or if it was merely uncomfortable. Was the blood flow to the nerves being cut off? Would my legs be temporarily paralyzed? I wanted to encourage our momentum. I felt like Armen and i were a single unit. I hesitated to ask for a break, as I wanted to go as far as possible first. I decided that I would ask him to stop when we passed the hilltop coffee shop. As we approached it, Armen stopped. I waited a long time as sensation returned to my feet before I was ready to go on. We had just a short leg left, although Armen said that the downhills were more difficult for him. As we walked down the hill, something inside me spontaneously released, and my head leaned forward against Armen's, breaking through a personal space "bubble" I didn't' know was there, and suddenly the carriage was easier than ever.
I felt more relaxed, and I was able to hold a great deal more of my own weight. Armen was lighter and faster, I think we both laughed. There was suddenly just a few short blocks to go. I was almost sad to be finished, but not really. It took much less time than I expected. We approached the curb. I jumped off Armen's back. We hugged. Though we took breaks, I stayed on his back until the journey was done. I was pretty bliss-filled, although my legs, which had regained all feeling, seemed to have forgotten how gravity works.
Armen walked me back to my car, and we talked a little and I drove away. I retained the feeling of bliss for the rest of the day, and had waves of good feeling wash over me several times. It was unexpectedly hard, but I felt rewarded. I still feel lighter, and more opened.
Janet Rowles
Harpswell, Maine
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