Way back in my college days at ECU, a blank page terrified me. The infamous Writer's Block kept me up more nights than I care to mention. Or you know, there was that whole "waiting until the last minute to complete the assignment" thing that may have attributed to aforementioned Writer's Block, but I digress. I dreaded hearing from my professor that we needed "x" amount of words, double spaced on "x" amount of pages. I clearly remember thinking no one and I mean no one wants to read that much about Emily Dickinson and my interpretation of "465 :I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -". Much later I learned my English professors were very fond of wine. I like to think I contributed to their discriminating taste, but again, I digress. I was terrified of not being able to fill those pages with intelligible and persuasive arguments supporting my take on any written assignment. But I do have a diploma, so I guess I did OK filling up the blank page.
This year, I am looking at another blank page, but in a whole different light. Both of our children will be enrolled in school full-time, I have no occupation, I am not volunteering on a committee, a group or a neighborhood board, I am not a gym rat, I am not socially driven, and well, truth be told, after September 6th, my calendar has no writing on any dates other than birthday reminders. A totally blank page. People are curious: "Aren't you worried about not doing ANYTHING?". Well, I wouldn't say I'm not doing ANYTHING! I have a house to finish unpacking. I am sure I will pitch in from time to time at school functions. I will have coffee dates with friends. I have a garden that seriously needs my attention. I have junk drawers to organize. I have words in my head that need to be placed on paper. I have books to read. I have a hammock in my backyard that looks incredibly lonely. I have trails to discover and shops in Apex and Cary to browse through on a rainy day. I have music to play really, REALLY loud. And I have dance moves saved for my own private party in my living room. I have recipes dog-eared in magazines to try on my family. I have photos from decades that need to be sorted, labeled and gazed upon with fondness. I can have lunch with my husband! I can stroll through art museums and musty old book stores. I can try on really expensive clothes for a make believe trip and then decide, "Oh, well, not today.". I can have a glass of wine with lunch, just because. I can take a nap! I can rent my favorite movies and watch them in the middle of the day. I can miss my dogs. I can call my friends and family across the country and not hang up because a ruckus is occurring in the next room. I can visit my sister-in-law on her lunch break. I can surprise my niece at college (just kidding, cutie pie...but I could). Or the best part, I can do absolutely none of these things.That is the joy of a blank page.
Today I walked into a coffee shop and noticed they had a help wanted sign. "I can be a barista!" I thought excitedly. One of my friends just landed a great part-time gig watching children once a day during the week. "Oooh, I could be a substitute teacher!". I picked up the Town of Cary class schedule and thought, "Ceramics! Pottery! Water Colors! Short Story Writing!". I thought about my interest in Yoga and thought, "I could be a certified Yoga instructor!". "Oh! I could write my novel!". And then I read an article about a woman who would be teaching people how to open their own cooking business out of their homes. "Oh! I could sell my hummus and guacamole!". "Oh! Oh! Oh! The possibilities!!!". And then I got really tired. And then I heard loud voices erupting downstairs. And I was off refereeing, again, as my possibility train was derailed until school starts.
And then I will find myself staring at a blank page, wondering how in the world I will fill in the white space for the next eight to nine months. You know, blank pages used to scare me but now, I find myself excited, nervous, giddy and joyful. I can't wait for the first smudge. I'm guessing I'll do OK on this assignment, too. So, tell me, what's on your page?
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
The Joy of Letting Go
"But Mommy, I don't want to let him go!". were the words quietly whispered by my son as I broke the news that our 15-year-old Jack Russell was terminally ill and the "right thing to do" was to let him go. We have had to let go a lot this year. We let go of our apartment lease because we found the house of our dreams. In other words, we let go of money. We let go of Dixon, our medically challenged Black Labrador Retriever. We let go of our selfish hearts. We let go of preschool and Third Grade. We let go of our comfort zone. We let go of MOPS. We let go of Friday gatherings that maybe, just maybe, Mommy was outgrowing anyway. We let go of people who may not have had our best interest at heart. We let go of anger, frustration and hurt. We let go of schedules, weekly commitments and registration deadlines. We let go of rushing around, watching the clock and turning down fun. Yes, we lost some things, but then again, we found so much MORE!
In 1 1/2 years, we have moved three times (two in less than five months) changed schools three times, buried two dogs, rejoiced at the fixing of a loved one's heart, prayed over the news of a diabetic family member, attended sporting events, school events, social gatherings, traveled a bit to visit families, hosted friends, organized events, led groups and somewhere in between, laughed at the craziness we were trying to control. And then I let go.
I said no to organized summer schedules. I said no to swim lessons. I said no studying over the summer. I said no to planning vacations. I said no to working all the way through the summer. I said no to making concrete plans of any kind whatsoever. And then, school stopped and I breathed in with a heart stopping gasp. "WHAT HAVE I DONE?" I have three months of nothingness looming in front of me with two kids that have nothing, N-O-T-H-I-N-G on the calendar. I distinctly remember thinking Lindsay Lohan and I would be roommates by July. And then I let go of holding my breath. And something amazing happened. We have had the best summer EVER!
Swim dates. Sleepovers. Museum excursions. Beach trips...yes, multiple! Cookouts. Play dates. Friendship discovery. Gardening. Running. Biking. Hiking. Picnics. Ad Libs. Libraries. Family Movie Nights. Surprise breakfasts prepared by our daughter. Volleyball. Paddle ball. Baseball. Sharks and Minnows. Night swimming. Glow sticks. Visits to grandparents. Farmer's Markets. New recipes. Art. Writing. Reading. Candy Land. Would You Rather? Go Fish. War. Dinosaurs. Home Spa Days. Pajama Days. Water Shooters. Random run ins with old friends. Staying up WAY past midnight. Imagination Station. Streams. Fireworks. Sardines - hilarious reverse of hide and seek.Go Carts. Miniature Golf. Despicable Me 2. Uninterrupted vacation time with Daddy. New hairstyles. Make up sessions. Junk food pass. Key Lime Pie. Swings over a creek. Sandcastles. Fishing. Boogie Boards and Body Surfing. Cartwheels into the pool. 3/4 Flips. Sundaes for breakfast. Categories. Laughing HARD and UNEXPECTEDLY. Dr. Seuss flowers in our garden. Tomatoes. Hot peppers. Floats. Seafood. Dance parties. Root beer floats. Tan lines. Flat out fun.
And then, on August 1st, I had to let go...again. And I wanted to scream, "NO! This is not in my plans! This. Cannot. Be. Happening.". An amazing thing happened at the vet that afternoon. Mason had been very tired and lethargic all day, sleeping on our bed. At 3:15, I hooked up his leash and placed him in the car for our final road trip. He snuggled up into my lap, and placed his head over my shoulder. I held tight, cried and wondered how could I let him go? We arrived, were escorted to our room, and were reassured by the vet that this was absolutely the right decision. When they took our sweet boy back to prep him, my husband and I prepared ourselves. David decided he was going to hold Mason as he crossed over. When Mason came back into the room, David scooped him up and Mason looked right at me. His ears perked up. His eyes gazed into mine and for a second, I saw the puppy we brought home fifteen years ago. I smiled, patted his head, said my goodbyes and let go.
The next few days were rough but each day becomes easier. The children have VBS this week and I will be home, experimenting with how this Fall will feel when both children begin school. Once again, I have to let go when I am not really ready. But the one thing I have learned this year is while the letting go stings, the letting go can also bring great joy, surprise and wonder. And in time, you learn to let go - again. Because it is the right thing to do.
In 1 1/2 years, we have moved three times (two in less than five months) changed schools three times, buried two dogs, rejoiced at the fixing of a loved one's heart, prayed over the news of a diabetic family member, attended sporting events, school events, social gatherings, traveled a bit to visit families, hosted friends, organized events, led groups and somewhere in between, laughed at the craziness we were trying to control. And then I let go.
I said no to organized summer schedules. I said no to swim lessons. I said no studying over the summer. I said no to planning vacations. I said no to working all the way through the summer. I said no to making concrete plans of any kind whatsoever. And then, school stopped and I breathed in with a heart stopping gasp. "WHAT HAVE I DONE?" I have three months of nothingness looming in front of me with two kids that have nothing, N-O-T-H-I-N-G on the calendar. I distinctly remember thinking Lindsay Lohan and I would be roommates by July. And then I let go of holding my breath. And something amazing happened. We have had the best summer EVER!
Swim dates. Sleepovers. Museum excursions. Beach trips...yes, multiple! Cookouts. Play dates. Friendship discovery. Gardening. Running. Biking. Hiking. Picnics. Ad Libs. Libraries. Family Movie Nights. Surprise breakfasts prepared by our daughter. Volleyball. Paddle ball. Baseball. Sharks and Minnows. Night swimming. Glow sticks. Visits to grandparents. Farmer's Markets. New recipes. Art. Writing. Reading. Candy Land. Would You Rather? Go Fish. War. Dinosaurs. Home Spa Days. Pajama Days. Water Shooters. Random run ins with old friends. Staying up WAY past midnight. Imagination Station. Streams. Fireworks. Sardines - hilarious reverse of hide and seek.Go Carts. Miniature Golf. Despicable Me 2. Uninterrupted vacation time with Daddy. New hairstyles. Make up sessions. Junk food pass. Key Lime Pie. Swings over a creek. Sandcastles. Fishing. Boogie Boards and Body Surfing. Cartwheels into the pool. 3/4 Flips. Sundaes for breakfast. Categories. Laughing HARD and UNEXPECTEDLY. Dr. Seuss flowers in our garden. Tomatoes. Hot peppers. Floats. Seafood. Dance parties. Root beer floats. Tan lines. Flat out fun.
And then, on August 1st, I had to let go...again. And I wanted to scream, "NO! This is not in my plans! This. Cannot. Be. Happening.". An amazing thing happened at the vet that afternoon. Mason had been very tired and lethargic all day, sleeping on our bed. At 3:15, I hooked up his leash and placed him in the car for our final road trip. He snuggled up into my lap, and placed his head over my shoulder. I held tight, cried and wondered how could I let him go? We arrived, were escorted to our room, and were reassured by the vet that this was absolutely the right decision. When they took our sweet boy back to prep him, my husband and I prepared ourselves. David decided he was going to hold Mason as he crossed over. When Mason came back into the room, David scooped him up and Mason looked right at me. His ears perked up. His eyes gazed into mine and for a second, I saw the puppy we brought home fifteen years ago. I smiled, patted his head, said my goodbyes and let go.
The next few days were rough but each day becomes easier. The children have VBS this week and I will be home, experimenting with how this Fall will feel when both children begin school. Once again, I have to let go when I am not really ready. But the one thing I have learned this year is while the letting go stings, the letting go can also bring great joy, surprise and wonder. And in time, you learn to let go - again. Because it is the right thing to do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)