My personal rotational bulge

 In recent years scientists have been telling us that the earth is not a perfect sphere. Instead of a sphere, our planet is technically an oblate spheroid, which gives it a slightly pear shape. An egg might be a better image.

Centrifugal force, rotation, plus gravity are the causes. Because the planet has been spinning for so long, the top and bottom poles have slightly flattened, causing a bulge around the equator. It’s called a rotational bulge or an equatorial bulge. The diameter at the equator is 26 miles longer than the pole-to-pole diameter. That’s not much. In fact, it’s almost impossible to see from a space craft.

Actually the earth’s bottom pole is flatter than the top pole by some 42 miles, which helps give it the pear shape.

Lest you feel too badly about this imperfection, you need to know that the rotational bulges of Saturn and Jupiter are far worse.

In addition to the earth’s bulging mid-section, other “surface imperfections” contribute to the distortion—mountains, abysses, canyons in the bottom of the ocean, desserts, and forests. (I, for one, say “Thank God” for the imperfection of a forest!) At any rate, our planet is far from geometrically perfect.

I think I also suffer from rotational bulge, and it might be more noticeable than that of my favorite planet. I’m getting older and I’m chronically dizzy. Much of the time I feel like I’m spinning. I really do bulge at the middle, plus I must be flattening at my top and bottom poles. I’ve apparently lost several inches from my youthful height. And then there are all the cracks and crevices, the bushy forests, the dry deserts.

Am I now more of a pear or an egg? Neither option attracts.

Actually, in the fruit-basket this retirement community resembles, I’ve noticed quite a few pears just like me. I’ve also seen walking apples, papayas, mangos, and bunches of grapes. Some of my colleagues remain slim but now walk with a light stoop; they’re the bananas. Thrown together, we make a colorful, tasty, fragrant salad. Lovely it its own way.

Even so, I’m not particularly happy or accepting of my rotational bulge. I buy clothes that hide it, sort of. I try to remember to walk tall and suck in my tummy. I exercise and diet, sort of. But it’s not natural and I forget.

I have friends who seem to accept the bodily shapes of growing older. They don’t bother with loose clothes and, in the ugly current phrase, they “let it all hang out.” I admire these brave unselfconscious people and wish I were more relaxed about it all, as they are. Maybe I’ll get there as I talk myself into it. But I doubt I’ll ever be comfortable with letting it all hang out.

But, really, so what if I’ve become an oblate spheroid? As long as I can think, create a poem, be a good friend, and worship the Lord in the beauty of his holiness, I’ll just keep on rotating. Being who I am at this stage of life. Joining with all my delightfully fruity friends.