July 22, 2010
The winds blow a lot in Idaho. If I stand and face the wind and look up at the sky, it can take my breath away. The wind can pick up my large inflatable pool and hurl it into the air and up and over the roof of my house. Dead leaves and debris are swept up in a whoosh and spin in the air. My hair whips my face and tangles in knots. I feel dizzy watching the clouds waft by.
“The Jimmy” as James sometimes likes to refer to himself, decided to go on a bike ride to the lake the other night. He hasn’t ridden much this year. He felt glorious pumping his legs as the bike cruised to full speed. He had the wind at his back and nothing could stop him. He felt like he could ride on forever. He hit the lake and slowed into a U--turn to go back toward home. He immediately felt the strain on his legs as a stiff wind hit him in the face and made his hair lay flat back. He hadn’t realized how hard the wind was blowing as he was riding along with it. Now, as he faced the wind, his face turned red and the ride was becoming a great effort. He down shifted to the lowest gear and pushed ahead. He did not let the wind stop him, but it did whip him. He was beat when he got home. He walked in the door panting and red faced, beads of sweat trickling down his face. I was a little worried about the toll he had just taken on his out-of-shape body, but he recovered nicely and wasn’t even sore the next day.
I marveled at the strength of the winds he faced.
I feel the winds of change coming in my life. . . they seem to be picking up speed.
I caught myself playing the “this-is-the-last-summer-we-get-to-be-with-you” card on my up and coming senior, Alex, today as he argued reasons why he didn’t want to go on the family vacation. We are already down one child–Emily–who is helping my cousin for a month this summer.
It’s amazing the difference being down one child makes in a family. When Alex was at scout camp last week, we were down two children. Someone called and asked why the house sounded so quiet. “We are down to only three children,” I said.
They are coming. And I can’t stop them. If I stand against the winds of change they will gust against me. If I lean into them, they will bite into me, eventually forcing me to submit my will. But if I turn and open my sails to the winds, will I be carried gently along, or will I be hurled forward out of control reaching out to grasp something to hold on to?
I don’t know if I’m ready to start downsizing yet. I don’t know if I’m ready to turn 40 next month. I don’t know if I’m ready to have all of my children in school full time. I don’t know if I’m ready to watch “the Jimmy” color his graying hair.
ALL of these things are leaving me breathless–just like the wind.
The winds blow a lot in Idaho. If I stand and face the wind and look up at the sky, it can take my breath away. The wind can pick up my large inflatable pool and hurl it into the air and up and over the roof of my house. Dead leaves and debris are swept up in a whoosh and spin in the air. My hair whips my face and tangles in knots. I feel dizzy watching the clouds waft by.
“The Jimmy” as James sometimes likes to refer to himself, decided to go on a bike ride to the lake the other night. He hasn’t ridden much this year. He felt glorious pumping his legs as the bike cruised to full speed. He had the wind at his back and nothing could stop him. He felt like he could ride on forever. He hit the lake and slowed into a U--turn to go back toward home. He immediately felt the strain on his legs as a stiff wind hit him in the face and made his hair lay flat back. He hadn’t realized how hard the wind was blowing as he was riding along with it. Now, as he faced the wind, his face turned red and the ride was becoming a great effort. He down shifted to the lowest gear and pushed ahead. He did not let the wind stop him, but it did whip him. He was beat when he got home. He walked in the door panting and red faced, beads of sweat trickling down his face. I was a little worried about the toll he had just taken on his out-of-shape body, but he recovered nicely and wasn’t even sore the next day.
I marveled at the strength of the winds he faced.
I feel the winds of change coming in my life. . . they seem to be picking up speed.
I caught myself playing the “this-is-the-last-summer-we-get-to-be-with-you” card on my up and coming senior, Alex, today as he argued reasons why he didn’t want to go on the family vacation. We are already down one child–Emily–who is helping my cousin for a month this summer.
It’s amazing the difference being down one child makes in a family. When Alex was at scout camp last week, we were down two children. Someone called and asked why the house sounded so quiet. “We are down to only three children,” I said.
They are coming. And I can’t stop them. If I stand against the winds of change they will gust against me. If I lean into them, they will bite into me, eventually forcing me to submit my will. But if I turn and open my sails to the winds, will I be carried gently along, or will I be hurled forward out of control reaching out to grasp something to hold on to?
I don’t know if I’m ready to start downsizing yet. I don’t know if I’m ready to turn 40 next month. I don’t know if I’m ready to have all of my children in school full time. I don’t know if I’m ready to watch “the Jimmy” color his graying hair.
ALL of these things are leaving me breathless–just like the wind.
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