Here we go! Day 2 of changing my lenses to seek deeper meaning, lessons, reflections, and chances for gratitude in my daily moments. I feel like this challenge already has provided me the gift of looking at my life differently. I feel it. Already. I am freeing myself up from the mental pile-on of sadness or self-criticism or hardship in my day to day and instead shifting to find the joy. This is a weird world, right now, for all of us, for different reasons and some the same. Join me, if you please, to seek each day, for the next 30 days, one moment of peace. Of light. Of joy…. the same exact moments that exist in your world every day, the simple, commonplace, run of the mill moments that blow by you daily…but this time seeing them with fresh eyes. Acknowledging the lessons and deeper meanings that are, actually, always there for you. I challenge you, too, to pick up something that you’ve put down this pandemic… your fancy camera. Your daily jog. Your phone calls with friends. Something creative. A practice you can revive as we begin this new fall full of new worries and stressors and struggles. Remember you. You matter. The world may be a tornado surrounding you. But seek shelter in your heart. Rebuild your base. We all can all begin again, every day.
Forecasts, Judgement Calls and Opportunities
I awoke today to heavy rains. The soothing sound of an onslaught of drenching drops falling on the roof above and the whisper of a quiet gray mood wafted through my blinds to greet me as I opened my eyes. The day before had begun with such promise, and ultimately was filled with laughter and sunshine and picture perfect blue skies and wispy white clouds and golden rays from above. On my run yesterday, I happened to take pause as I realized I was running beside multiple pods of multiple dolphins. The smattering of early morning beach runners and walkers and I shared smiles and shrieks of collective awe and wonder as one dolphin, who, with his friends was riding the waves…and jumped twice for us (which I miraculously happened to capture on video). It felt like a God wink. A thing of beauty. We had time with my Nana and some of my fathers’s siblings who came to visit her. We had beautiful time on the beach with my husband’s brother and his awesome family and the cousins all swam and boogie boarded and played soccer together. We ordered pizza to the beach and settled in for an extended happy hour as day turned to twilight. Our phones all buzzed with announcements of thunderstorms…. but we didn’t want to believe it. It was the final night of their vacation. Maybe it will pass us by. Maybe the forecast is wrong. It says it’s raining now…and clearly it’s not…maybe it will blow over. Maybe we will even see a rainbow!
Well.
We were wrong. Meteorologists were right. And we finally made the call to jump ship and shut it down….but not until the clouds had rolled right on top of us and thunderclaps filled the sky. We sprinted through whipping winds and blistering sand stung our salty skin and we all took shelter in my parents’ garage as lightning illuminated the eerily white sky. We made the best of it with baggo and white claws, sad that our plans had to shift, robbing us of our last night together.
This morning I aimed to run again, but the driving rains kept me inside, forcing me again to pivot my plans, instead lazing with my youngest daughter who wanted to “cheers and chat with coffee” with me. My family played hand and foot, tri-ominoes, and skip-bo. We built forts, we played babies, we moved slow. Just now I noticed there was a break in the weather and I slipped away for my run and while I didn’t see frolicking dolphins under a perfect blue sky, there is something still profoundly beautiful about the beach in bad weather. In the quiet, there is a sense of being cloaked under a weighted blanket of grays and whites and blues and browns, enveloped in sand and sky and wind. There is so much movement, yet somehow it all feels so still.
We were bummed about the change of plans last night, but we now created a new memory we will all look back on with laughter as the eleven of us sprinted from the beach with metal chairs on our back as lightning struck all around us. I had to move my morning run today… but I got to soak up the sounds of my 5 year olds squeaky voice and hear the giggles of my kids who, thankfully, were actually happy and in good spirits all at the same time (a rare treat). When we were making teams for one game, my five year old reached out her hand and out of nowhere said, “don’t worry, Mommy, I’ll play with you, I’ll be on your team. It’s ok, you’re not alone.” And she put her arm around my neck and put her head on my shoulder and I felt so at peace and affirmed because that is my whole goal with this blog and this challenge. My entire aim is to help all of us to know… we are not alone. I never felt so seen and my heart soared.
And I did get to go for my run after all, just at a different time, and when I did, I spotted this heart someone drew in the sand and it reminded me that there is love in this world, even when it all feels so rotten and corrupt.
Change does come, like the weather. And situations and chances and people and moments roll in and they roll out. We can react to them however we choose… but really, there are, even in the worst moments, slivers of beauty. Sometimes it’s impossible to see, especially when we are sat squarely in the madness. But the truth is, depending on the issue at hand, we often need only to change our perspective…. or, if it’s all just too big, we can keep putting one foot in front of the other and allow time, distance and space to do the hard work for us. I remember Glennon Doyle once saying that when we are down in the valley, on the floor of our hard times… that it’s okay to stay there. Don’t force yourself to rush to the top of the next peak. That stunning vantage point and view is waiting for us. Just sit. Just be. Stay down by the waters edge and collect nuggets. Pearls of wisdom born of pain. The sleep, the laughter, the lightness will come again, and then just as quickly as we found it, it will again go. And that’s life. That’s the whole deal. It goes on and on like this, forever. If you’re in a hard moment right now, know that you’re not alone. There is someone somewhere feeling that same exact way, whether you know them by name or not. If you wish to wallow and hibernate and sit in the sad, that is a choice (and many times, it is the exact right one). Stay. Feel. Cry. Ache. And. When you’re ready, you can shift your lens. The thunderstorms will always come. But also, they will always go. Have a wonderful day, friends, no matter the weather. ✨
Care to share your thoughts?