Pausing in these somewhat awkward days, where the kids and I seem to have flown from a rhythm of life into an abrupt halt, I find the feelings of unfamiliar somewhat familiar. This isn't our first time sitting in the space of the in-between, yet instead of the restlessness I typically find myself in, I find myself practicing more awareness. It's interesting to have pauses like these in life. Where there is almost a tangible hold between what was and what is going to be. It has opened my heart to look back with so much gratitude, to look forward with an abundance of faith, and to sit in the now, holding space for what is right in front of us.
There is so much power in the now, if I choose to access it. Yet, like in all things, the in-between is full of choice. To choose to sit in discomfort and bury it, anxious, resistant and frustrated in the slow motion of the days, or to see discomfort for the fluid opportunity it presents. Because discomfort is what creates growth. And I am all in for growth. Yet, I am human. And find myself dancing between both places throughout each day, soaking in the moments that warm my heart and take away the sting of loneliness that creeps in these times of unknowns. Because the more I look around, the more I see the people surrounding me. Full of love, light, and above all, hope. And I can hold hope with them. I may not have all the answers. But I can hold space for hope. That while we don't know what life will look like in our next chapter, and while we longingly look for the comfort of our last chapter, we find ourselves bookmarked. Relishing in the memories and experiences that formed exactly how they needed to, yet unable to move into the next part of the story. The smell of the pages from the well-worn book remind us of the beauty that life has to offer us if we are willing to be patient. To be open to receive what it is we are meant to discover.
As I find pockets of stillness where I'm feeling my feet where they are standing, I soften. The crinkled muscles between my eyebrows relax and the tension in my shoulders releases. I begin to see the joy that truly surrounds us.
The laughter of Abigail telling us how amazing she thinks the hotel is.
The kids excitement for the hotel breakfast menu. Trying new foods because they can.
Showing up at a park, and playing together for hours. Max inventing a Percy Jackson tag that the girls giggle to play with him. Creating obstacle courses with them.
Abigail catching a frog, picking up worms and looking for insects at every moment. Some stop to smell the roses. She stops to catch the bugs.
Alexis swimming in the cold pool the most because she loves a good competition.
Alexis' smile as she discovers new ways to cross the monkey bars. Backwards, skipping two, and skipping two backwards.
Tayler's laugh. In the car. At the park.
Tayler making a new friend at every park we go to. Smiling and welcoming anyone to join her.
Max playing pick-up ball with no fear about being the youngest.
Tayler's excitement to do her summer workbook each morning.
Card games on the park table under the shade of the giant trees.
As I get out of my own head long enough to observe moments like these, I find myself listening so much more. Seeing where they are processing this journey in their own individual ways, and seeing how they choose to respond. They teach so much. Courage, resilience, grit, joy all surround abundantly. Turns out the in-between is full of the unexpected. Turns out the in-between is exactly where I'm growing. Turns out the in-between really is a lesson in being present with life enough to realize that's where life is.
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