reflective walk

 

On a warm Fall afternoon, I found myself walking across campus to grab a quick bite to eat before heading off to the next meeting.  In my usual hurried pace, my mind as brisk as my step, I thought of the agenda for the rest of the evening.  The mind - ever two steps ahead of my body.

Suddenly, I looked up.  I don't know what called my attention or what caught my mind's eye.  But I stopped.  And looked.  All around me. And saw the most glorious sky. And colors in the trees.  And the peaking of fall mums amidst the otherwise browning foliage.  It's Autumn!

I've been reading other blogs that tell me it's fall.  Most know this because their kids are back to school, or because their gardens are winding down, or the chill in the air.  My summer ends with the birth of August and so fall usually slips in quite unnoticed.  This year, I'm happy to notice the lingering of summer - the green tomatoes still in our garden, the occasional 80 degree day.  I'm also happy to notice the delicate change of color that is shyly poking its way into my days.

As with others, the presence of fall made me look back on this summer. I entered summer with a tremendous amount of intentionality, called to shift my priorities and live like my family genuinely took first place.  I worked hard at this - rising early to get a full days work in with plenty of day left to spend with the kids, finding just the right sitter to give my kids a true lazy summer, planting and harvesting to give my family healthy and homemade, with some fun days planned to spend together - without distraction - just us.  I did it!  Ten short weeks of play, fun, and summer.

I frequently wondered whether my children noticed the difference.  Whether this summer was as memorable and life-shaping as I had hoped.  Then, I walked past my daughter's preschool and saw the family photo we had given the teachers. Under the photo, in quotes, it read, "This is my family.  This summer I got a balloon dog and it leaked so I got a sword.  Then we took a boat ride.  It was lots of fun."  

My mind conjured up the next memory.  An early school project that my son brought home.  Under his drawing, he'd written, "We went to an amusement park. I didn't like the roller coaster, but I loved the park.  We had so much fun."  Then, the memories flooded.  One child asking if I remember when we were swimming in the kiddie pool at the water park.  Another child asking if I remember the mechanical and robotics games we played at the science center.  Each child recalling their own memories and making connections to what they are doing today.

I think they noticed.

This is peace.

The day went as planned.  One meeting, then the next.  At the end of the day as I was unpacking book bags, checking homework, and packing lunches.  I came across this . . .

It's good to know . . .

haircut

I got a hair cut.  An ordinary haircut.

But, this haircut came with a life altering conversation.  "What," you say!

"Yes!"  I say.  A life-changing, light bulb-lighting kind of conversation.

I've been going to the same stylist for five years now.  As any woman knows, when you find someone you like, you stick with 'em.  I've been consistently happy with my haircuts, but even happier with our conversation over the years.  Recently, she opened her own shop and I followed.  Now, our conversations are more like therapy sessions with a little dose of pampering.

We all know I've been trying to figure myself out - spiritually, professionally, personally.  I've been trying on new hats as mother, gardener, writer, and photographer.  Some hats fit and others don't.  There are so many other hats I'd like to try.  My parents tell me that I used to love hats of all kinds as a child.  I don't remember hats being so overwhelming back then.

http://www.thesunmagazine.org/

I recently read an article entitled Dissonance in one of my favorite magazines.

I know the dissonance Hurd speaks of.  It's the perpetual sound in my head, the gnawing in my heart, and the stack of weights constantly pressed against my chest.  I can't remember a time when I didn't know dissonance inside my being.

How can I be blessed with so much - beautiful family, loving husband, network of supportive women friends, good job - and still feel so uncomfortable in my own skin?  Where is this authentic self I've read about?

This conversation with my stylist helped me step away from the spot on the wall at which my nose has been firmly placed.  She said, "You know you've been saying the same thing about your job for the past five years.  You say it differently each time, but it's been the same thing."

Ah, the big picture comes into focus and for the first time in my life I say out loud, "I want to teach."  I say those words as though they have always been there just waiting for my mouth to form around them.  

And for a moment, I here the next chord.  The chord that follows the dissonance. The chord that resolves the tension, the anticipation.  Though temporary, I allow my body to feel this comfortable, safe sound in every fiber of my being.  I like the way this feels!

I am more fully aware of God's presence and this answer to my prayer that She may announce boldly for me what I am to do with this tension, the imbalance.  I've always thought the dissonance was God-given, a call, a pull toward my life's purpose.

 

There is much inner work to do before I jump into this change.  Much of the planning, daydreaming, questioning, fearing, and leaping has found its way into the new notebook I've begun to carry.  I've never carried a notebook before, but this, too, feels right.

I like my haircut.  

I really like my stylist.  

And I like where this serendipitous moment brought me.