Don't Hold Back

The last few posts I wrote months ago really took it out of me. I wish I could say I have been working on some cool new thing but no, I was taking a breather. I needed some type of transition, and though its hard to come by, silence. This summer has been filled with good books galore and a sabbatical from writing my own words.  I needed time to store up creativity in the quiet mornings while the kids sleep off their summer wanderings. No conjuring of experiences to write about (the best ones come on their own anyways) or narrating in my head (please tell me I'm not alone here, fellow writers). I needed time to just be...

To let all the days flow through me like sand sprinkling through an hourglass. Not trying to record or post on a feed or timeline, just letting each moment slip away like it was intended to.

To practice gratefulness for right now. Whether right now is seemingly important or not. 

To lean into fears and doubts, opening the box they've been kept in so I can see what they have to say. They teach us alot when we actually listen.

To let my actual body just exist on it's own with out owing anything to appearance. To just wear and enjoy those unforgiving summer clothes and bathing suits that I'm comfortable in. No worrying about tans, or scars, or rolls or any of it. (I did try self tanner, it was short lived.) 

Saying yes to fresh air and bike rides, swimming and roller coasters. Things I would usually just try to supervise or coordinate for the kids while I do grown up things.  

One of my favorite things has been to put little Joel in my lap, hug him tight with one arm, and swing as high as we can on the squeaky playground swings. His reckless excitement over such a small thing hits me somewhere deep. It lets me know that although there is solemn pain and injustice in the very air we breathe, there is also joy and healing that abides. 

I found a video on an old iphone from Jayda's birthday. Without even watching it, I remember the exact day. It was an unusually warm December day and we had taken a long walk and ended up at the swings on the riverbank. I was just on the tail end of that first year stage after you birth a child where you don't quite feel like yourself. Nothing you own fits the way it should, your body is out of whack and you just have to sit in your mess and uncomfortable-ness until it passes or at least you find your new normal. I remember that I had ventured out spontaneously and that was a good sign that I was regaining balance. 

I hesitantly push play to relive this memory and watch us swing back and forth, little Joel experiencing the feeling of swinging, the climb up, the falling again and again, for the first time 

The wind blowing through unkempt hair, the much needed laughs;
Swaying like a pendulum, slow motion in the winter sun. 

It was one of those sweet moments where you feel grounded and present, connected to the people you are with. I cherish that memory although it is tinged with the sadness of knowing that in a couple short months our world would be rocked. It's hard to watch without wishing that somehow how I could go back. The "what if's" start to form...but no, I wont let those thoughts rob the innocence that was in that memory.

Instead I have to let it remind me not to hold back. To not sit on the sidelines, to go for it when opportunities big or little present themselves.  To even be on the look out for those moments and take initiative to create space in my days that would allow for such a moment. It could be investing in a new friendship, an experience you wouldn't normally say yes to, a risk that you can't just can't fathom taking. 

Granted we can't say 'yes' to everything and everyone. 'No' can just be just as healing and rewarding as its counterpart. This is where wisdom and self awareness come into play. Find out what gives you life and do those things, prioritize them, even if those things scare you a little bit. Make it a practice to be holistically ready to take the risk of living with your whole heart, facing fears and awkwardness and pain. Own them.

What is this for you?

Take a few minutes to think of a time you felt refreshed, or grounded, or just...alive. What were you doing? 

Let's do more of that. Don't hold back.

Happy Sunday, 

Jenna