Crossing Life's Monkey Bars

"You don't even seem to notice it...the noise."

She was referring to the level of activity you could hear at any given moment in my home. The tone in her voice let me know exactly what she meant.  Emphasis on the word noise. I am sure her definition included adjectives such as confusion and chaos. For me the proper definition was engagement...life in motion. 

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I laughed when my neighbor made that comment to me over 20 years ago.  It was laughable.  Six kids, their friends, our extended family, and a menagerie of pets over the years filled our home with lots of "noise."  All I really knew then was that this noise spoke to me.  I understood it's dialect in some mystical way that I couldn't explain.

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My husband and I are officially empty nesters now. Yet, this fact doesn't eliminate the sound of life in motion in our lives. Life's noise doesn't stop when your kids leave home, or you leave home, or you finally have an adequate savings account. Nor does it stop on the day you wake up and realize that perhaps the deep mourning process from a loss has eased. Loss of a job, a child, a marriage, a loved one, a dream or direction. Every life experience comes with "noise."

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We had only been living in our new neighborhood a year or so when I had that conversation long ago. I was just beginning to recognize Peace in the noise of life. My dad had passed away only a few months before our move. I still vividly remember the day of my dad's funeral. I had been so busy with family coming in to town and all the preparations that I simply had not taken any time to process what I was actually experiencing.

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I woke up early that morning and got in my car to go for a drive. I happened by a small salon where the owner was using her keys to open the front door.  I pulled in and asked if she could cut my hair. I wasn't even sure I actually needed a haircut. She told me she didn't have time that morning but she could fit me in that afternoon.  I told her I would be at my father's funeral that afternoon.  The next thing I knew I was in her chair getting my hair washed.  The warm water, the gentle head massage, the quiet of the morning in an empty salon, and the silent tears began to flow down my cheeks. I could literally feel life moving over and around me in a rush to get by. I could hear in the rush, "sshhh...take in this moment. Feel today. Today will soon be tomorrow." I was keenly aware in that moment that life's noise and rush would not stop despite my loss. And now that day is 27 years ago.

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Fear would have us believe that we can hold back life's motion, escape life's noise, run around it or ahead of it. When actually it is safe to be still and allow life to wash over and through us with all of it's force. To hold out our arms and say "here I am." We can be rooted and let our branches bend and shudder in the gale.

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Trees need the wind to strengthen their roots allowing them to grow taller. In a storm a large tree sways and bends with the wind. Despite the loss of leaves in the turmult, the rustle of it's branches and the leaves join in the wind's song. We too can learn this song. We can learn to engage and move with it. 

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I made no mention to my neighbor of the late night roar of fear. In night's silence I could hear that distant roar grow closer. Fear's voice so loud at times that sleep escaped me. I still have those nights. I still hear the force of the storm pounding against the windows of my life. I forget the lyrics that accompany the song of the storm. Without focused listening I'm unable to hear Hope humming the melody for me. 

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Hope sings the song of the storm. 

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Brene Brown in her book, "Atlas of the Heart" describes Hope not as an emotion but as a way of thinking... a cognitive ability. Hope, she tells us, "can be learned...it is a function of struggle - we develop hope not during the easy or comfortable times, but through adversity and discomfort." I love this description.

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Hope's whisper comes in the same way that a gentle breeze does on a hot day. Subtle and easy to let pass over you without taking advantage of it's renewing strength. Hope speaks the language of Peace, "Keep going." "You got this." "Go to sleep." "Breathe." "You are enough." "Be fearless." 

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My children and now my grandchildren are still teaching me about life in motion. Right now several of them are over coming fear and the "there is no way I can do this," noise.  My oldest grand daughter headed to High School and tried out for Varsity Soccer.  Freshman year of High School...terrifying.  Varsity soccer tryouts as a Freshman...terrifying. I know she had sleepless nights.  I also know she has loved this crazy first year.  And, yes, she made the Varsity team.  Watching her play in the freezing rain...literally, freezing rain, on a windy October night, the joy on her face gave new meaning to the phrase "dancing in the rain."  

What will her Sophomore year bring? Driving.

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Yet another granddaughter has taken up "tumbling." I love that word. Somehow it softens the implication of it's definition. After months of practice, in a step by step process, she strengthened her core muscles and developed the mindset of Hope. Tumble after tumble...and then the day came when she landed it. 

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Two other grandchildren, have recently mastered crossing the monkey bars. Now there is hope at work! They sent videos to each other showing their progress. At the park I would watch them work at the life skill. First just reaching out and grabbing that first rung. I had the privilege of holding their legs in my arms and taking on just a bit of the weight as they practiced being brave...letting go, grabbing hold, letting go, grabbing hold, letting go. 

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Their practice included falls. I could tell by the look on their faces that they never considered the fall a failure. It turned out that the ground was closer than it appeared. It was only a dust yourself off kind of moment. "You got this." "Try again" came from their parents (and grandma) at first.  Then it came from within. Soon they were on their own all the way across. At first a labored rung by rung. Then with the confident joy that comes when you are swinging across the playground. The work had become play.

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I can still see the school yard monkey bars through my seven year old eyes.  So far off the ground.  I could see the other kids crossing with such confidence.  Fearless it seemed to me.  It didn't help that I wasn't built like the other kids. They were lithe and strong.  I was square and not so strong. "Nothing is hard once you know how to do it," my mom would say. I would get so angry with her when those words answered my "this is too hard" statements. I now recognize that it was the language of Hope she spoke. Hope, the dialect of life in motion, is a language you can learn.

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There was a park I could ride my bike to. (In the 70s kids did that on there own.) That first afternoon was brutal. Fear, Blisters, Scrapes. I do not remember how many days I spent after school at that park. I do remember the day I first grabbed the rung at school in front of other kids and swung across.  I no longer needed Hope for the monkey bars... I was already across 

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The roar I still hear in the quiet of the night I now know is actually the the sound of life rushing around me. Hope holds my legs, lifting me. Here I am grabbing hold, letting go, grabbing hold, letting go...

 

It really is a matter of what you hear in the midst of life's noise.  

Covid19 - A Super Power Balancing Act...

A picture perfect moment. In fact, it was a picture. Sent via Snapchat from my daughter.  The moment, like the photo, was already gone. Perhaps, by now she had let it's power slip from her memory as she continued throughout her day. The image was of my grandson who was asleep in the front carrier strapped to my daughter...my daughter had a smile on her face, hair up and sweat beads on her forehead.  The Snapchat caption read, "I just mowed the yard with JJ...he slept the whole time."

Balancing life is not an act of planned positioning as the phrase would lead you to believe. 

A life in balance is actually the after effect of Super Power utilization.

This Super Power is frequently only recognized for a brief moment. You feel it when you have activated it. Perhaps you snap a quick photo of the proof. Then, just as quickly, your not even sure the moment happened at all. You took a picture, right? Or maybe not, it was such a fleeting thing there was no time. Was it actually just a deep breath? I really needed that deep breath.

I long to be able to have that Super Power under my control. 

Is that a thing?

I came across a quote at Christmas this year and captioned a photo of my granddaughter with it.

 I wasn't thinking of this Post then.  I was thinking of her one of kind personality.  The one that pushes open my front door and at almost three years old comes in saying, (in a voice Grandma sometimes has a hard time understanding), "Hello, Grandma, I'm here for the party."  

The Pandemic that is COVID19 and the current world events leave me feeling out of balance nearly everyday. In fact, the world seems completely up side down. If life is a carnival ride, it is a roller coaster right now. I don't like roller coasters. My family loves to buy the photos at the end of the ride just so they can have a picture of my distorted, terrified face.

I tend to close my eyes when I am at the apex of a roller coaster loop.  The momentary suspension upside down and flip is sure proof that I am not in control. Who's driving this ride?!?

Would I feel differently if I opened my eyes?

My son while walking a trail recently took this picture. I love it. It is an image that for me is visual deep breath.  Beautiful. Peaceful.

Now look more closely...can you see it? 

I didn't see it at all.  My son had flipped the image upside down. 

Upside down and balanced?  

Peace...Balance...It is something that I have always had to work at, seek after, look for.

My husband and I have made a habit of walking our neighborhood streets in the evenings for many years. The Spring of 2002 was no exception. This was only few months after the tragedy of 9/11. Our country and much of the world was in turmoil then as well.

A neighbor and friend who often saw us walking together, asked me if one evening my husband and I would mind stopping by to look a sculpture she was working on and give her our opinion of her work. There was a back story that I wish I remembered more of the details of today.  Suffice it to say she had a brother who was an artist, sculptor, in Colorado.  He was going blind and in a recent visit had sent her home with some clay. I said "yes" to her request.  When I told my husband he said "absolutely not."   Two weeks later we were knocking on her door.  

She led us to a small room off of her garage where we were awe struck by what was in front us on the work bench.  No one would ever have believed it was the first time she had laid hands on clay.  It had taken her months to complete.

She showed us the photos she took of another neighbor, a young woman and of her grandchild which she used as her reference. (Yes the sculpture looked just like them) 

She shared with us that she spent several weeks considering what she would do with the clay. Then one night she woke up and had a clear picture in her mind of exactly what that piece of clay was supposed to look like when she was done. That was all.  A picture of the finish before she had even started. It truly did pay tribute to the children who had lost a parent in the 9/11 attack.  It was a woman holding a child wrapped in the American Flag.

She asked if we might be willing to help her by purchasing one of the statues for the cost of the bronzing. Her story had inspired us during those dark days. It gave us hope and a different perspective. We wanted  a reminder in our home of that peace and the assurance that during some of our darkest nights we are able to see the illuminated finish without having any idea of how we are going get to there.

It was only a few weeks later she knocked on our door. She had been crying I could tell. When she took her clay piece in to the molding and casting facility they told her that it was very unlikely that it would come out whole.  They told her that even the most experienced sculptors would have great difficulty balancing a work so large on such a small balance point. They did not believe the piece would make it through the first firing.  

The finished piece is still a focal point in our home. It's perfect balance came not from experience but rather by seeing the end from the beginning. Having the faith to try something new simply because that end had been seen...no matter the naysayers. Believing. Can I say Super Power activation here?

In February of this year, 2020, my husband and I went to visit my daughter and grandchildren in Utah. (Yes, there was life before COVID...) We decided to take an overnight adventure to the recreational area that is Moab. As we made the turn into Arches National Park after a three hour drive the kids were more than ready to get out of the car.  We stopped at one of the first places where we were just going to take a quick look and stretch our legs. My grandson Kaden is autistic.  I am not sure if life ever feels out of balance to him.  He has the ability to focus so intently that he seems not to notice the chaos around him. 

And yet, I am not so sure he doesn't notice...he was the first one out of the car with Grandma that day.  He walked on ahead of me.  For a moment I was afraid I would not catch up with him and that my daughter would need to run and grab his hand. Then, to my surprise, he simply sat down and looked up at the rock formation in front of him.  He was holding on to his favorite Woody and TRex companions.  Then with certain steadiness, not ever looking down, he turned Woody and TRex so that they could witness the awe of what he was seeing. 

Simply named. Balanced Rock.

Life balance in the midst of life chaos.  

It really is all around us... the Balance.

The ability to tap into the steadiness of Life Balance on our most difficult days is a true Super Power.  

Most frequently there is no photographic evidence of this Peace Super Power.  I have witnessed its effects at work when my husband comes out of the office after finishing a legal brief and sits down in the cushy seats, usually reserved for our clients, and my son-in-law reviews the Covid Court Rules on how to get everything where it needs to be on time. Just a moment of balance even with a thermometer, masks, and hand sanitizer on the front desk. 

Did I mention the protest walking by the front door? Over 1,000 people that day.

I have not been opening my eyes enough on this ride. Squeezing them shut actually.  Feeling nauseous. My personal cup of Peace tipped over and empty.  Can I even admit a crack or two?  

I received a facetime call from family in Minnesota. The connection was like a drink of cool water.  I was parched.  My cup was broken after all.  Then a few weeks later a text with a photo from earlier years.  In fact, I have received more than one of these "throw back photos" since quarantine began.  A reminder that balance in the midst of "chaos" is attainable.

Believe me when I say this crowd put on a protest or two back in the day. Those kids are all grown up now. Change...it's inevitable. 

Last week I spent some time late at night looking at photos. (Of course I was on my ipad where I can actually see the image without my reading glasses.)  These were moments in my family's life that they shared with me.  They were sharing their personal Super Power moments of life balance. The pictures where large and clear and it was in them that I could see evidence of what I had begun to think was a lost Super Power...

My granddaughter told me this doll reminded her of me.  It was her Grandma Action Figure.  I actually have no excuses left with my own action figure.  I must have the ability to tap into this Super Power of Balance in midst of Chaos...even upside down.  

I called my daughter who had activated her Super Power at the beginning of this post. I asked her if she ever saved her snap chat photos.  She said no not usually. Then she asked me which one I was wanting.  When I described her Super Power moment she laughed and said, "Of course I saved that one! I was so proud of that moment!"  

Life Moments in Balance...just open your eyes...it's a Super Power thing.