Tonight, instead of working more after a 12-hour work day, I decided to take my 14 year-old for a beach walk. We walked and talked and when we got to the sand, he did a cartwheel.
I used to love cartwheels but the last time I’d done one was 30 years and 50 pounds ago.
But it looked like so much fun when he did it,
So, I did it too.
My cartwheels were super awkward.
(Which I have to tell you, was a step up from what I thought they’d be. I was pretty shocked my arms didn’t give way, leaving me to break my fall with my face which would have be so. very. me.)
And then, they got better.
Not good, mind you…
I eventually stopped because I was afraid the lifeguard in the truck was going to come over and try to rescue me on dry ground.
That would have been even more awkward.
And then, I got another idea: I’ve wanted to jog, because in some weird place and alternate reality in my mind I secretly love running and have always wanted to run —
So, I did that, too.
And I jogged and jogged, and just kept going and going. So much farther than my son and I even thought I could. In fact, I stopped — not because I was out of breath or tired — but because I thought, “Holy schniz — it feels unnatural for this to feel so natural.”
I’m so weird sometimes…
I tell you all this because, you know how you wonder if there’s this girl inside of you who you used to know
and you wonder if she’s still in there?
I just want you to know:
She’s there inside of you, just one awkward cartwheel or unnaturally natural jog on the beach away.
And I was thinking…
Maybe you can take her out to play a little this week?
Maybe an art class, or a swing lesson, or a concert or a drive with the top down?
A little birdie told me
she’s really excited just thinking about it
and even though it makes her a little scared,
she would really, really