Moving from one familiar place to another unknown and unfamiliar territory causes me angst. Even if I know the change is good for me I still find myself looking longingly over my shoulder at what should or could have been, wondering if I’ve made the right decision. Should I go back or trudge blindingly forward?
Finally with apprehension and trepidation I slowly turn my head and my focus to the challenges ahead. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and I plunge on. I promise not to look back. I try not to relive only the most wonderful memories and glamorize the things I’ve left behind. I remind myself that I am moving on for a reason. I remind myself that letting go of people, places and things is very difficult for me. Often it is the absolute last resort as I am a born problem solver. I try getting over a problem, through, under, around, ….exhaustion ensues and I have to admit I’ve done all that I can. Again and again. Time to let go. To go where?
Truly it’s not the flying, plummeting, free fall that I mind so much, exactly. No, it’s the terrifying white knuckle moments right before flight that is my nemesis. I cling, shredding my nails, clutching tightly until my arms cramp, making useless and futile bargains with God in a vain attempt to forestall the inevitable…. letting go, saying goodbye. Moving on. Falling into the hollowness with no flight plan and no parachute.
Finally, I slowly loosen my death-like clutch on the past…. I release myself to the fates and to the winds of change. I will attempt to be gracious, open-minded, curious and kind. I will use this time of transition to become a better version of myself with my newfound knowledge and enlightenment. I will open my arms wide and appreciate the storm of change as the past whips by with the sound of a locomotive and the silence of transition approaches , engulfs and hopefully cradles me.
It is here my work will begin. I will land in a different place and my climb will begin anew. Ascending and trusting the Godwinks I must now rely on as if my life depended on it, because surely it does. I’m in uncharted water apprehensive and uncertain. It will be here that my new purpose and my faith will collide. Trusting that while I am uncomfortable and tentative I will prevail. I will pray for guidance and strength to trust that deep in the dark abyss of transition there is a safety net that is as yet unseen.
It is a comfort and a relief to know that I am not alone. At the very least I hope to find that I am braver than I know.
My Little Town celebrated its 300th birthday, officially called the Tercentennial Birthday Parade. Who doesn’t love a parade? I must admit, I didn’t know what number of years Tercentennial represented. Did I study this in school? No matter, I looked it up, it’s 300 years. We had a lovely parade with over 2,000 participant’s, major by our little town standards. To put it into perspective, our annual Memorial Day parade is usually 10-15 mins long, with less than 500 marching and this extravaganza was over an hour and half long, in the blistering 90 degree, September weather. I know because my sons kept reminding me of the temperature every 15 minutes or so.
People began putting out their chairs and roping off spaces for their family and friends the night before the festivities even began. Normally, there is no need to jockey for space or to put your chairs out the night before, but this was the Tercentennial Parade! The flurry of activity had our poor little town in a tizzy but they managed to pull the whole thing off without any major hiccups. Happy 300th Birthday Little Town! Enjoy the Parade.
I couldn’t take it anymore, I needed a break. I just couldn’t solve one more problem, listen to one more argument between my sons, or do one more load of laundry. I got a chance to go away for a few days, by myself, and I was packed and in the car in 40 minutes. Not rushing exactly, but there was a hustle in my step. This was no time to dawdle.
Getting away allowed me to hear my inner voice, listen to silence, (which of course is never really silent, but you get my drift), and chill out. I just sat, with no guilt, no plan, no direction and I felt myself exhale as the breeze washed over my face.
I got a chance to sit on the beach, ride a bike, read 3 books cover to cover, eat, laugh, walk, write, take pictures, see a movie, talk with friends, watch the water, swim, and rest. It was wonderful and just what I needed to get myself back on the creative track.
I couldn’t resist snapping a few shots of the Super Moon glowing in the sky as it moved closer to earth this weekend. My son Jordan said, “it looks like we’re looking into a hole straight through to the Universe.” When I looked at it that way, he was right, it did seem like we might tumble into the hole in the universe and be swallowed whole. Only a 9-year-old could conceive such a wonderfully fantastical idea.
What a great night we had riding around trying to find the best place to get a perfect shot of the sole beacon crowding out the night sky and its ever-present stars. As Jordan said, “we are so lucky that we get to see, up close, that the moon isn’t made of cheese.”
The last photo was taken by Jordan. who was surprised how fast the veil of darkness closed entirely around the earth, blotting out everything else except the Super Moon which glowed brighter as the night grew darker. It’s the greatest joy in the world to share your creative passions with your children and to see them get excited about the wondrous world around us.
The world opens anew through the eyes of a child. I’m fortunate that my boys teach me that everyday. Enjoy the Moon!!