Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Fan into the Flame...

Guilty.
Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.
So very guilty.
So often I put off “the hot iron" for the sake of the task at hand, 
and the tragedy is that as a result, 
many of those thoughts do get pushed back into the vault...
waaaaay back. And it can be tricky to reignite the flame again. 

But the hope is that it's still there…each word....living….breathing. 

Yesterday I had laundry to do, a dishwasher to unload, 
homework to finish, studying to catch up on…
But instead, I spent the early morning writing. 
Just letting words flow. 
It felt good to crack open the vault and let some light in.
And a few things fell out, wouldn’t ya know...

Oh Bellas, my time is not my own. 
These moments do not belong exclusively to me.
They also belong to my little ones.
They eagerly await each day for those moments
to be brought to life in an environment that cultivates
creativity, exploration, learning & development.
They rely on it.

There are also dishes that need to be done.
Meals that need to be made.
Toilets that need to be cleaned.
Diapers that need to be changed.
All noble things.

So what’s the secret formula?
That there is no secret formula.
That even when you budget time to it’s maximum potential,
there will always be an unpredictable variable.
Especially when it comes to toddlers. Ha!
As the incomparable Bruce Lee once said, 
“Be water, my friends.”

That about sums it up.
Be fluid. Go wit da flow.
Realization and flexibility go a long way here.
For me, it’s understanding that this is a unique season all of its own.
And embracing it.

It’s understanding that some days, I will choose the dishes...
Or the laundry... Or the mop...
over jotting down the burning thoughts in my head.

Other days, I will choose the hokey pokey.
Or puzzles. Or Star Wars action figure play.

And some days, I will choose the keyboard.
Or the journal. Or the sticky note.

And in between, 
as I'm referee-ing toddler spats,
filling bottomless tummies,
listening, consoling, encouraging, teaching...
I’ll be gracious with myself.
And the hope is that somewhere amidst the beautiful chaos,
that balance will naturally find its way through. 

So what will tomorrow bring?
When will I crack open the vault again?
Who knows.
Each day, the mystery unfolds.
Each day, it’s own story to be told.
Knowing fully, that when the moment is right,
I will unleash my inferno.
And it shall burn.

Until then, and whenever possible Sweet Bellas,
When the heat rises, 
I vow to fan into the flame.

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