First time high

I often think about how exciting it was being a child and how boring it can be being an adult. Everything just seemed so much bigger, better and more exciting when I was little. My first bike, my first train ride, my first outing to the fun fair… It all felt so big and magical.

Every ‘first’ comes with its own set of feelings and emotions.  Whether its fear or excitement, happiness or anxiety, or a mixture of feelings, the first time you experience something stays forever ingrained in your memory. Rarely can you ever recreate a first time and experience those exact same feelings or emotions. For me no fun fair, circus act, trip to the sea or kiss has ever come close in feelings to my very first experiences. 

  

I can remember so clearly the wonderment I felt the first time my mom took me to Joubert Park to see the Christmas lights, Santa and his elves, the beautiful lights in the trees and lamp posts all gloriously decorated and lit up. I think I was about 7, and this was probably the first time I ever felt high.  My eyes couldn’t take in enough.  Everything felt so magical. It was almost unreal.  A few years later we went back and I was so excited with the expectation that I would feel those same feelings of magic and wonder. But it just wasn’t the same. Everything was just as beautiful but I never felt that same sense of wonderment like the first time I was there. I walked around feeling somewhat cheated.

The first time I visited a circus I was awe struck. The lights, the music, the sparkling costumes – loads of anticipation. Dying to know what would happen next, I could at no stage remove my gaze from the ring. Every act had me spell bound - from the clowns, to the glittering trapeze artists, the strong men and the fire eater. I just couldn’t pull my gaze away from what was going on down in the ring.   I will never forget the feeling of dread when the fire eater brought a ball of fire on a stick closer and closer to his mouth – he tipped his head back, opened his mouth and swallowed the fire. I was certain something terrible would happen to him, but with the applause from the crowd and the smile on the performers face standing with what was a ball of fire now extinguished, I realised he was just fine and relief washed over me.  I left the circus that evening with another (but very different) feeling of being high.  For weeks I dreamt about the circus. I have been to many circus performances since then but have never experienced those exact same feeling. 

My first time ice-skating I was high on disbelief.  I was probably 5. I was struggling along when two figure skaters appeared out of nowhere, grabbed my hands and took me for a glide across the ice. I was dumb struck - Not with fear but with pure astonishment. It was such a remarkable feeling.  I couldn’t believe what had just happened.  

My first roller coaster ride: High on anticipation.

My first kiss: High on hormones.  

My first broken heart: High on vengeance   

My first flight: High on fear.  

My first interview: High on anxiety.  

My first car: High on accomplishment.

My first car accident: High on bewilderment

My first pay cheque: High on elation

My first childbirth: High on confusion

My first burnt meal: High on the smoke that filled the kitchen.

At 43 I’ve experienced many firsts; all with their own set of feelings and emotions, both good and bad.  But at 43 I suspect that I am running out of firsts. The older you get the fewer firsts you’re likely to experience. I mean honestly, all 43 year old's do is work so will my next first be my death? I can just picture it… The first time I died: High on nothing because I’m dead. (Oh Lord, please let my knickers be clean at the time of my death.)

Sadly, over the years I have come to realise that you cannot recapture the feelings of amazement, awe and fascination that you feel on a first experience. The high is never the same the second time around.  But recently something remarkable happened.

On a rather financially embarrassed day not so long ago, I was tidying out my clothing cupboards and came across an envelope. Curiously I opened it. The delighted surprise and pure joy I felt when I pulled out R600 in cold hard cash was the exact high I had experienced the first (and subsequent times) I had found money which I’d stashed away and forgotten about.  I am now contently convinced that no matter how many times I discover hidden money I will always feel those exact feelings - that exact high. It will always be precisely like the first time.

As soon as my financial situation changes I’m going to stash some cash and forget about it.  But for now, if you’ll excuse me….  I’m off to hide a R1 coin. 

For the time being I’ll be chasing very cheap highs!