Embracing the Roller Coaster: A Journey of Faith and Vulnerability

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It is an overcast day, and I am sitting at my office desk in total solitude. Last week was both our school’s 8th grade graduation, and the Upper School graduation. This year has flown by. Don’t we always say that? Each year I experience that “school year count down” as we start that long uphill trek clicking steadily each step on the way up through August, September, and October as we climb that metaphoric track. It always seems to take an eternity to get to Halloween. Then, suddenly, with almost no warning, gravity takes over and our stomachs are left behind as we start plummeting down that steep speedway of a slope toward graduation. May arrives and the “train” glides back into the station. I find myself hoping that someone competent is handling the braking system. Gratefully, the brakes are working and we gently slow to a satisfying stop. The summer gives us a quick moment to recharge our engines, make some necessary adjustments, climb back onboard, and restart that upward trek.

This year was different for me. I stepped away from my role as Head of School, a role I have played for upward of 15 years in three different schools, to fill a last minute need in our Middle School, that of Principal, Interim. I took a step into the unknown. In doing so, I found myself out of my depth with an entire Middle School of faculty, students, and parents looking to me for answers that I did not possess. It was a new level of leadership, and one I had only witnessed from afar. Thankfully, faith and trust have underpinned all that I have done in my life. I have learned to rely on God to point out and direct my path. My strategy as Principal was to rely on my best instincts knowing that if I would focus on being present to guide and support, focus on being reliable and dependable, focus on running interference when necessary, focus on being there each day to greet everyone as they came through the door and saying goodbye each evening as they left for the day, and focus on depending on strong teacher leaders and a strong assistant to guide my steps, that somehow, the gaps would be filled and the work of the Middle School would be accomplished. It was accomplished, and next year there is a great new Principal coming to step into the position. My work as a leader at Principia School will be finished. I have spent four wonderful years in a school where we lead with Love, not just in word, but in daily practice. I will miss that.

Would it have been better to stay as Head of School and find another way to fill the Middle School gap? Perhaps, but I would have missed out on the adventure, the chance to stretch my wings in a new direction, to push myself, to test myself by trying something new. It wasn’t a risk, because I knew the school would be fine. My successor as Head of School was ready. He stepped in with confidence, a great deal of competence, and a strong vision. He is rocking it! The Middle School was already staffed with excellent teachers and teacher leaders. The Principal role was a mighty challenge, but we pulled into the station all intact and, I think, better for the experience.

As for me, I am about to step forward into another new adventure, a new direction. My heart is creeping toward my throat once again as I begin that upward trek. Soon, I will be launching a new career in coaching, consulting, and writing. They are all things I have been doing for a long time, but now, if successful, they will become my livelihood. Imagine that!

As I sit in solitude and think about these next big steps in what some might call my “golden years” my thought is drawn to one of my favorite movie scenes. If you are familiar with the movie Parenthood, you might know it.

In this scene, the grandmother tells a simple but deeply memorable story comparing life to two amusement park rides: the merry-go-round and the roller coaster. Her reflection comes during a conversation about the chaos, unpredictability, and emotional strain of family life.

She explains that when she was younger, she preferred the merry-go-round. It was safe, predictable, calm, and orderly. The horses moved in circles, all at the same steady pace, the music was nostalgic, and there was comfort in knowing exactly what would happen next. You didn’t feel much, but the merry-go-round represented stability and control—the kind of life many people think they want.

But then she says something unexpected: she noted that eventually, as she grew older, she realized the roller coaster was better.

The roller coaster is frightening, loud, and completely unpredictable. It jerks people around, races upward and crashes downward without warning, at times it even flips you upside down. Sometimes you laugh, sometimes you scream, and sometimes you hold on for dear life. Yet it is alive with excitement, surprise, passion, and emotion. Unlike the merry-go-round, the roller coaster makes you feel everything.

Her story becomes a metaphor for life itself. Stepping into the unknown is less of a smooth, controlled experience. It is full of highs and lows, fear and joy, confusion and exhilaration. But the grandmother suggests that the messiness and unpredictability are exactly what make life meaningful. I’m OK with messiness, always have been. Over the years, I have even come to embrace it.

The power of this scene lies in its warmth and wisdom. The grandmother is not romanticizing uneasiness; she is recognizing that a fully lived life includes risk, vulnerability, heartbreak, wonder, and delight all mixed together. In the end, she embraces the roller coaster because, despite its chaos, it is thrilling to be fully alive. Because, beneath the chaos, there is trust: trust in the rails, the engineering, the rhythm of the ride. Fear transforms into exhilaration. The rider feels fully awake—heart pounding, senses sharpened, mind emptied of everything except the immediate thrill of motion. For me, that trust is in God, always reliable, always meeting my need, even before I ask. As I near the peak in this next crescendo, I know that the next screeching plunge will send me right back up again, soaring toward the sky feeling fully alive!