Bigger Picture Moment: Jump and Fly

He stood on the wooden stairs of our new house. Packing boxes scattered around him. I was sweating buckets hauling, moving and unpacking, and his little body perched on the stairs created a roadblock to my progress, “hey buddy you need to move so mama can get by,” I encourage him.

 

“No mama, I jump,” he says.

 

At which point he proceeds to jump, which basically means he hops and steps down onto the floor.

 

He repeats this about a billion times or at least it seems like a billion. Then bravely climbs up to the next stair. I wait with baited breath. Will he jump?

 

He looks at me sensing my anticipation “You catch me?” he asks smiling.

 

A question with so many connotations and only one answer …

 

“YES, of course,” I say relieved, as I’d rather not have to visit the ER.

 

He trusted me to say yes. There was no doubt on his face that I would say no, and let him fall on his face. I’ll always be there to catch both my boys when the need me, and my husband too.

 

Sometimes they want me to catch them and other times when I’m prepared with outreached arms ready to feel their bodies lurch into mine I’m left empty.

 

Because at a certain point in their lives they can finally jump on their own. They trust their judgment and my arms might prove to be more of a roadblock than a comfort. So, I step aside and let them jump from time to time.

 

I smile on the outside and encourage their forward momentum. While on the inside I’m screaming “NO” and my arms ache to cushion their fall.

 

We continue this jump and catch game another billion times, my arms aching and my heart bursting with joy. Then he says the words I knew were coming “I do myself.”

 

Stepping aside I let him go on his own, his jump is perfected now and he gets air, flies and lands … CLUNK safely on the ground.

 

I’ll always be there to catch them.

 

 

But I also know sometimes you need to just let them JUMP, because they need to fly.

Resting: Bigger Picture Moment

I watch from my car, they bombard me from the right and the left, cyclists speeding by in their race jerseys, training for triathlons. Moms running with jogging strollers in hot pink tank tops with shoes to match.

So many running, so many biking and doing and smiling and soaking up the smidge of sun that tentatively peeks through the all too common rain clouds.

It’s only been two days of rest. ONLY two, but it feels like forever. Perhaps it’s the uncertainty, the worry that I won’t heal in time.

That’s when the sadness breaks and I get angry.

Angry at the world.

Angry at myself for pushing too hard.

Angry at work for making is so damn difficult to schedule a simple chiro appointment.

Angry at the bikers and runners that get to do everything I should be doing.

I’m on the cusp of race day. Just over 15 days away and I’m waylaid. Held prisoner by a body that doesn’t want to go right now.

Throughout my years I know that 90 percent of how I act and react to life is both mind and body driven. Often they don’t agree, the body doesn’t want to go to the dentist, but the mind convinces it to go.

Sometimes the mind wants to do crazy things and body refuses its demands.

Then there are those rare occasions when they finally nod their heads in agreement and say YES this is it, and I get the best damn run of my life. I feel like I’m flying down the sidewalk, perfect form, breath at an even pace and I feel like I could run forever.

Love Running

I miss those days.

Right now I’m still.

My body silent except for the tiny screams heard each time my hip is tweaked in the wrong direction. Deep down I know rest is best, and that the body is calling the shots right now.

Reluctantly, I have succumbed taking a break, quieting the mind and body to promote healing.

It’s not easy. It’s hard. But no one said life was easy.

And the best thing about the mind is that it breeds hope. That little glimmer of silver lining in the storm clouds. Because just as the storm passes and sun shines again, so will I and one way or another I’ll cross a finish line this summer.

Embracing Change

“Hey G, it’s time to go bye bye.”

Instantly I brace myself for his toddler explosion. It’s become the norm lately these little bursts of emotion each time we must change our direction or the task at hand. On one hand I grow frustrated with these outbursts and on the other I can totally relate.

I have issues with change myself and on occasion have been known to throw toddler temper tantrums. It’s really not so much the change itself as the FEAR of the unknown that it brings along with it. Sometimes change can be good like a promotion and sometimes it’s a necessity like changing your undies.

Lately though, in the unsteady waters of my life, change has been met with resistance, and panic.

Then today like a sign from the heavens came this blog post from Ann Voscamp, “Four Steps to Take When You’re Not Ready for Change”.

I digested her words, let them sit warm in my belly and as that warmth entered my heart I finally found peace with the changes life is throwing in my direction. Children growing older, moving from the home where we started our family and just letting my plate be empty.

For life needs to move forward, and things just can’t stay the same, because seriously that would be boring. That I and I really don’t want my boys living in my house FOREVER…

So I need to embrace change and …

“Don’t grieve that it’s gone, wonder that it was.

Laugh that you lived and dance that you dared.

Inhale that it happened — and it was grace.”

Change is a matter of perception and reaction. If I perceive it as a negative my reaction will be negative, but if I see the positive and embrace the change – hold it close to my heart and LIVE in the moment I will see just how good it can be.

Because situations and landscapes may change but the memories, the moments and connections will still remain for they are everlasting.