Six months after the accidental drowning of her 14-year-old daughter on a school camp, her mother Katherine remained consumed by rage, grief and blame. She was depressed, her type two diabetes poorly controlled and she was about to leave her husband. We worked on validating and helping her to understand her emotions. She wrote a letter to her daughter, telling her how much she loved her, forgiving her for leaving them and accepting it was no one’s fault. Gradually she became more positive, started enjoying her work again, got her diabetes back under control and rekindled her marriage.
Our eldest son is preparing to leave for a distant College. He is ready, but adventures are more exciting for those who go than those who stay. My wife and I comfort ourselves with the truth that the experience will grow him, but there is a sadness. And not just for us—his younger brother has shared how much he will miss his best friend. As a family we have been more intentional about savoring our time together. Our best family memories are often recited. Focusing on the positive about the past and present gives us hope for a bright future.
My entire being vibrates. I pause, and exhale slowly as I straddle the starting line. Ready. Set. Go! I’m weightless. Adrenaline pulses through my body. My breath accelerates. Inhale. Exhale. My foot strikes the pavement. The pavement strikes back. My diaphragm parachutes down and fuels my lungs with life. My legs, my lungs, my soul: Burn. My mind races and screams “SLOW DOWN!”. Inhale. Exhale. I slow my breath and enter my body for one final push. I exist: The wind, my body, the track, but no ego. I hit the Finish line. PR. A smile burns across my face.
I walked in the bush on a windy day with my love. The warmth of sun on my face punctuated by the chilly gusts … invigorating. Breathing deeply with the exertion … muscles working to carry me up hills past ancient stones and trees bending and creaking. Movement and energy everywhere … I’m feeling strong, moving freely and it doesn’t feel like exercise at all. Looking up, out and ahead – grateful for this moment.
Grateful for This Moment
I didn’t think I could. But then I did. The thud, thud, thud, of my feet on the gravel. Like the sound of my heartbeat. Every morning I say hello to the blossoms and fresh air, like they are long lost friends. Gazing into the vastness of the blue sky and the feeling of exquisite delight in sunshine dancing with dew laden gum leaves. I never thought I would be a runner. I didn’t think I could. But bit by bit, day by day. Meeting myself at my comfortable edge and gently leaning in. I love leaning into myself.