Treading on thin ice...

I wonder who came up with this expression? This little turn of phrase somehow popped into my head the other day as the A bus drove past the banks of the frozen Raritan. It was a warmer day than previous days of single digits, as evidenced by the rivers of poop-like slush pooling on the street corners of College Ave. From the glass panes of the bus, I saw the open expanse of the river, frosted over and powdered white. When I noticed darker patches dotting the sheet of ice, betraying its aqueous depths, I was instantly impressed with a sense of doom at the thought of the perils a person could face if they found themselves treading lightly at the center of the thawing Raritan.

The phrase "treading on thin ice" popped into my mind, and somehow linked itself to this train of thought: Why is this turn of phrase used when referring to the precarious position of one who has invoked the anger of another? "Treading on thin ice" suggests that you have vexed someone to the point that a single slipshod step could send you plunging into bone-chilling polar depths. To experience the anger [of a woman] could very well be characterized by total immersion in a black abyss of biting frigidity, completely void of oxygen and feeling.

But this straightforward image is insufficient as a metaphor for anger, in my imagination's humble opinion. (I guess it's safe to say that I have no bridle over the randomness of my visualizations.) The thought entered my mind... anger can be both hot and cold, right? It can be as icy as the White Witch of Narnia, frosty with apparent indifference, and as fiery as creature of hell, lashing out with whips of blazing rage.

How then, would this frozen Raritan-centric metaphor work in favor of heated anger? I imagine it to be something like this: The sheet of ice on the river's surface is not meant to act a paralyzing trap; rather, it is a barrier, a defense put in place to protect the poor misplaced soul from the scorching rage beneath the surface. You see, no one ever really wants to lash out in anger. (Well, I speak for only myself.) Even in anger, you try to hold yourself back as much as you can, because once that ice is broken, all hell is going to break loose. No one wants that, not even the antagonized. The truest form of anger is held against one who actually holds a place in your heart, so if possible, you try to keep that layer of ice in between as a protective shield.

It should be noted in this metaphor that what lies below the ice is not more ice, but an explosive rage that eats away at the ice, bringing the anger closer to the surface with each passing second. The thawing spots on the river are where the heat has almost burned its way through, a forewarning of the danger making its way to the surface. At this point, an obnoxious yellow sign, "CAUTION, EXTREMELY HOT", would be quite appropriate, but in all likelihood, useless. What happens after the all the ice has been melted is indicative of your own creative vision. The words "explosive", "volcano", and "spitting hellfire" might help you out if you are particularly unimaginative.

Of course, this anger metaphor explores only one use of the phrase "treading of thin ice", which could be adapted to interpret countless aspects of life. It just so happens that the image of shooting flames appeared in my mind the day I saw this sheet of ice, and voilà! You have a rambling of the purest form.

Ah, word vomit, how I've missed you so. Without you, how would I make sense of the mess of images present in my mind? My thoughts have been a-jumble lately. Sometimes, I wish that life were simple, but nothing, not anger, joy, weariness, love, nor relationships are simple. There is always another side to things, and unfortunately for me, I'm often inhibited by the power of words to explain what goes on in that crazy mind of mine. All I can do is pull covers over my head at night, conjure up these indescribable visions, smile at this beautiful mess of life, and drift away in the warmth of my thoughts.

I'm treading on thin ice here, but I'm not quite sure what lies beneath.