On a beautiful, warm, end-of-summer day, I sit outside under the canopy of a graceful Japanese maple tree, contemplating the summer's end and my trepidation, fear, and discomfort while considering my sons new start of the school year--the beginning of fall and all that it means to me.
I realize how set in my bones, down into the very DNA of my cells, is that feeling about summer--hope, freedom, sun, warmth and relaxation. Summer always brings a sense of expanded breath, time to read a good book, or explore a new vacation destination. So therefore the end of summer often brings with it a sense of regret--lost time, unfinished fun. Have I relaxed enough? Have I really enjoyed my sunny summer? Am I passing that enjoyment and hope on to my children?
Feeling the weight of regret and a foreboding sadness in my chest, I brought myself back to the present moment--my comfortable chair, my moment of peace under my leafy respite. All I have learned about living in the present moment came back to me and comforted my anxious runaway mind. How often I need to remind myself of this and thank God when I remember.
The change of the seasons, especially this "back to school" transition is just a small reminder of all the transitions in my life--from my own aging process, to that of my teenage boys maturing and growing evermore independent. I often miss the days of their early childhood and the magic it brought of wonder and discovery. But when I stay present to this moment, I realize how the wonder and excitement transition as well. I want to move and flow with it and stay open to new possibilities. My greatest learning is through others, especially my children. Visiting my eldest son's internship last week helped me see him as the professional young man he has become. His enthusiasm for learning new technologies I can't begin to comprehend is awe-inspiring. Through my youngest son’s writing and new Web site, I am allowed a rare opportunity to see his creative self developing. I am grateful that he is willing to share his thoughts, insights and humor with me. My boys possess a strength, focus and vulnerability that I certainly didn't possess during my teen years. I must be doing something right.
Expand, breath, release and repeat. This is becoming my daily mantra. I often get stuck on the release--letting go is good, healthy and vital yet it seems to be the most difficult thing to do. My logical mind lets go but my heart stays tethered. Maybe because “letting go” involves an enormous amount of trust. Trusting that things are the way they need to be is actually liberating. Change will happen whether I allow it or not. Expand, breath, release--Change is imminent. Better to embrace the change and accept the lessons it has to teach me.
I realize how set in my bones, down into the very DNA of my cells, is that feeling about summer--hope, freedom, sun, warmth and relaxation. Summer always brings a sense of expanded breath, time to read a good book, or explore a new vacation destination. So therefore the end of summer often brings with it a sense of regret--lost time, unfinished fun. Have I relaxed enough? Have I really enjoyed my sunny summer? Am I passing that enjoyment and hope on to my children?
Feeling the weight of regret and a foreboding sadness in my chest, I brought myself back to the present moment--my comfortable chair, my moment of peace under my leafy respite. All I have learned about living in the present moment came back to me and comforted my anxious runaway mind. How often I need to remind myself of this and thank God when I remember.
The change of the seasons, especially this "back to school" transition is just a small reminder of all the transitions in my life--from my own aging process, to that of my teenage boys maturing and growing evermore independent. I often miss the days of their early childhood and the magic it brought of wonder and discovery. But when I stay present to this moment, I realize how the wonder and excitement transition as well. I want to move and flow with it and stay open to new possibilities. My greatest learning is through others, especially my children. Visiting my eldest son's internship last week helped me see him as the professional young man he has become. His enthusiasm for learning new technologies I can't begin to comprehend is awe-inspiring. Through my youngest son’s writing and new Web site, I am allowed a rare opportunity to see his creative self developing. I am grateful that he is willing to share his thoughts, insights and humor with me. My boys possess a strength, focus and vulnerability that I certainly didn't possess during my teen years. I must be doing something right.
Expand, breath, release and repeat. This is becoming my daily mantra. I often get stuck on the release--letting go is good, healthy and vital yet it seems to be the most difficult thing to do. My logical mind lets go but my heart stays tethered. Maybe because “letting go” involves an enormous amount of trust. Trusting that things are the way they need to be is actually liberating. Change will happen whether I allow it or not. Expand, breath, release--Change is imminent. Better to embrace the change and accept the lessons it has to teach me.
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