And Then The World Said "Stop"

It was working well--adding days and hours and endeavors and projects. And then the world said "stop."

It was working well--running for buses and scrambling for trains and racewalking when necessary. And then the world said "stop."

It was working well--helping to manage a whole family's worth of activities and lives. And then the world said "stop."

It was working well--doing more, sleeping less, feeling accomplishment close to twenty-four hours a day. And then the world said "stop."

We are conditioned to believe that more is better, so much so, that we just keep going. It feels good to use all of our time, and to get things done. But every so often, when we are too busy stepping ahead, the world steps in. Every so often, when all we can say is "go," the world says "stop."

And we just have to trust that accepting the stop will make us better equipped to "go" when it is over.

Chasing The Bus

You can track the bus with an app or a text system, but sometimes, no matter how fast you run, you can't catch it.

You can work more days and more hours, but sometimes, no matter how long and how hard you go at it, it doesn't feel as though you can stay ahead.

You can say "yes" a lot and "no" when it's necessary, but sometimes, no matter how much you care, you can't seem to feel you are mastering the parenting thing.

You can use all the hours and all the tricks and all the tools, but sometimes, no matter how well you use your resources, you can't quite seem to build what you want.

You can chase the bus, chase success, chase your dreams, but sometimes, success will elude you, sometimes your dreams will feel beyond you, and sometimes, the bus will beat you. The trick, I suppose, is to keep running. Because one of these days, the bus will slow down, just enough. One of these days, you will chase the bus, and your dreams, and success, and you will win. So, you've just got to keep running...

But What If I Miss Something?

Among the effects of a loosely planned summer is the ability (imperative?) to make almost daily decisions about activities. Even when there are countless possibilities, there is always the risk that picking one means giving up another, and the fear that something along the way will be missed. And so it is that some mornings involve intense negotiations about what to do. Often, I am at a disadvantage in these negotiations, as I have been up at work all night, so have far less lawyerly skills than my kids. But negotiate we do, and somehow, each day, we come up with a plan. 

When I was working days, things were somewhat less negotiable--without me around, the kids had to have somewhere to be. With me home (at least physically, if not mentally), there is a chance of home being the better option. Will there be a mommy-planned, mommy-escorted activity? And if they choose camp or a play date, will they miss out on both time with Mom and the opportunity to do something they don't usually get to do? As my kids are learning, these questions are a roll of the dice daily. They can't really know whether I will sleep through a given day. They can't really know whether a given day will be so hot that I won't want to go anywhere. So, in some ways, we make their "informed" choices with not much information at all, and we hope that they turn out well.

Perhaps it seems risky. But isn't that how we make a great many of our decisions and choices every day? We may gather information, and analyze past results, but ultimately, we all make choices that risk our missing one thing because we have chosen another, that leave us unsure if we have made the very best use of our time.

So, how do we know if we are going the right way, if we heading for the good stuff and are avoiding missing the other good stuff? We don't. We don't know for sure, when we walk out the door, what we will miss. We don't really know, when we walk out the door, what we will discover. So, each day, we just have to keep making those choices. There will be days that end with "yay," and days that end with "I should have," and lots of days in between. But in the end, what we miss just leaves room for what we find.

What are we missing? It's hard to say, so we just keep making choices. And what we miss today may be just the thing we find tomorrow...

I Am, Part 2

There is one artist who shows us years worth of her creations, and another who creates on video right in front of us. There are some artists who show a particular angle of the world, and others who challenge our view with constantly changing angles. And as I watch their process over two days, I see patience in the face of technical difficulties. I see varied interpretations of instructions that were the same for everyone. I see hesitation turn to confidence, and I see confusion turn to pride. And all the while, I hear years of learning coming out of my mouth--the notes that over the years have made me feel good and work harder. The notes that made my work different, and hopefully better. The notes that made me feel as though I was worth teaching.

I can't say whether any of these kids will become video artists, producers, or editors. Who knows at that age what will happen by the time you are my age? I sure didn't. But I feel good about helping to make it a possibility. I feel good about providing a few words, some constructive notes, and a little validation. I went in thinking that my main contribution was sharing a technical skill. It turns out that what I had to offer was a little different and a lot more. If I, in such a short time, provide just a little guidance or just a little inspiration, prepare them for just a few of the notes that, over the length of their careers, will dash them or excite them, I will have done what was most important. And as I hear the words from my mouth and see the looks on their faces, I think I've done my job.

I Am, Part 1

Thanks to a collaboration with one of those people we are lucky enough to meet along our paths, I am helping to teach a teen workshop called "I Am." Over the course of two afternoons, we, the professionals, are helping twenty teens make short videos about their lives. When the days are over, they will understand a little more about shooting and editing. When the days are over, we will understand a little more about what we know and what we don't, and about how it is that we got to where we are.

"I am" is an interesting statement for any of us to make.

"I am" is a statement that can change from today to tomorrow.

"I am" is both a statement about us and a statement about the circumstances that surround us.

"I am" is a statement we often avoid, favoring "I do" or "I wish."

"I am" is a reminder of how scary it can be to speak up for ourselves.

"I am" is a reminder of how empowering it can be to speak up for ourselves.

This is two days of imparting some of my years of knowledge and experience to a room full of kids just beginning to amass their own knowledge and experience. But having seen Day 1, I have a feeling I may be learning as much as I am teaching. And I may come out with my own somewhat new version of "I am."

New Again

One of the best things about the summer (particularly the very loosely planned version of summer that I tend to create) is the fact that there are so many new beginnings. During the school year, we pretty much all have our marching orders. We know where we're going, and when, and the structure of things looks pretty much the same, week after week.

In the summer, though, this particular Monday may look nothing like last Monday. Perhaps we can sleep more. Perhaps we are taking a different form of transportation. Perhaps we will have more time on our own. Or less.

Sometimes, the lack of consistent structure can be exhausting. During the school year, we (we, the adults AND we, the kids) know which friends we will see each day. We mostly know what will be expected of us. And we know the rules of the game, whatever the game may be. While summer may free us from some of the expectations, it also requires us to regroup, sometimes more than we'd like, and to make new friends and try new things.

Before we know it (no, say it isn't so!), our loosely structured summer will be over, putting us right back into that life where we know a lot more about what's coming our way. So, for now, we can bristle about adjusting to the new each day. Or we can enjoy what the new has to offer us--the ability to try something different, just for a moment in time, the opportunity to stretch our adaptability, and discover how much we can handle, and the chance to appreciate what a little freedom can give us. It's not the same old, same old. It's summer, and each day, we have the chance to be new again.

All Paths Lead

I sit at a table with women with whom I used to sit in meeting rooms. We used to meet monthly, if not more. We used to collaborate on helping, and serving, and advocating. We used to speak together for an organization.

It has been a long time since those "used to's." Each of us has navigated through all sorts of pieces of life since then. And though each of us may still help, and serve, and advocate, we do it separately, and in our own little worlds. Though we meet, we meet only rarely, and not so much to create action, but to catch up. We are connected by the used-to's, but our paths from "used to" have been so different that it is sometimes hard to see exactly who and where we were then.

Yet, the starting place still brings us back. Though our paths have diverged widely, when we are back together, we always seem to have the bond that brought us together then. So, while paths lead where they lead, perhaps many paths really lead to where you created them. If you have laid the proper groundwork, you can find the path. If the people who walked it with you understood it back then, it is not so hard to remember where it leads.

We have moved along--and will continue to move along--all sorts of paths. But when we find the people in our lives who believe with us, speak out with us, work hard with us, perhaps even the most divergent paths lead back to them. And following those paths can be a really good way for us to keep from getting lost...