There's certain happenings that I'll never be able to live down. At least if my family has anything to do with it. And no where near the top of the list-- sorry, we're just not quite there-- but with a secured place still the same, is the time I feel asleep. At the movie theater. During the climax of the show. True story. And I wasn't even high.
Me dozing off said nothing about the intensity, the success or the depth of the movie. In fact, we were watching The Fugitive, an awesomely exciting flick. It was just an instance that reiterated the fact that movies weren't my thing and sleeping was.
From the time I was a little girl I dreamed of having my own babies. Any new baby that was born into our church family became an immediate target. I would steal that little baby every Sunday for as long as their mama would let me. I loved the feeling of swinging that little thing onto my protruding hip and parading around. I remember endless hours of sitting different little ones on my lap and singing "Trotty horse, trotty horse, go to town"-- and the anticipation would build in both of us as I continued, "don't let baby fall down down down!" And with that, I would grab their little hands and hold onto them as I let them free fall backwards.
I can't think of a longer-lasting hobby in my childhood. Babies were one of my high-ranking hobbies.
Yosh and I couldn't have been engaged for more than a couple weeks- considering our nine week engagement!-- when it hit me. I was sitting on the edge of his bed, on a Sunday, at his Omni apartment, and the realization seeped it of what our recent engagement and upcoming wedding meant-- I had reached the stage in my life that I had dedicated so many years dreaming about-- I could choose to have a baby of my own when we deemed the timing right.
These baby years have been amazing. AMAZING. I still love babies, no less than the nine-year-old me. There is nothing more delicate, and simultaneously inspiring, than a perfect newborn glued to my chest. With the rise and fall of our in-sync breathing, it seems like together we're making plans. I'm drawing on the emanating power of his new, fresh life, promising that I will be the best mom that I possibly can be, that I'll love him more fiercely and earnestly than I've ever loved before, that we will conquer this world- him in his way, me in mine. I believe those promises that I silently make. And I rarely have long enough away from my bundle of inspiration to get too distanced and removed from those dreams. The reminder is once again in my arms every few hours.
But not anymore. My "baby" is now only 10 days short of being two. And the chaos of a house filled with 4 energized kids- laps of chasing and tickling and rounds of fighting- is no longer broken up by those three hour cuddling intervals, where me, the crazed mama, is magically inspired by her own dream. No more holding that baby that was always meant to be in my arms and looking of the breadth of dreams all hidden in a sweet, little face... constant, inspiring sessions. No, those days are long gone. But the chaos isn't. And the high pressure to perform isn't. And the weight of the responsibility for all these little hearts is not lost to me. But sometimes, sometimes....the vision is. The full picture. The end goal.
I lose that vision when I'm breaking up another fight, when I've lost my temper yet again, when I'm cooking my third boring meal of the day, or cleaning up yet another cup of spilled milk. I lose that vision when Yosh and I are already in bed, wasted, at 9 pm for the third night in the row which the forecast showing not much change in the pattern. There's all kinds of creepers trying to bust my focus, cloud my vision, kill my dream. I can get lost in everyday life.
But here's the thing. Getting lost in everyday life, simply going through the motions, robotically performing tasks....it doesn't work for me. I'm not here in my one and only life to merely survive. Huh uh. I can't swallow the idea that that's how life was meant to pan out. I want to enjoy, and thrive, and breathe. Maybe I have too high of expectations, possibly I set myself up for disappointment. But it can't be more disappointing than opening the dishwasher to load up all the dirty dishes only to find....the dishwasher is full. With clean dishes. Kid you not, I'm disappointed every. single. time. Yet, every single time I clean it out and get the dirty dishes loaded up to maintain my anally-cleaned kitchen that I demand. So maybe I'm just used to disappointment and used to pushing through it. If it's the cost for an over-all higher quality of life, I can deal with both disappointment and high expectations.
And lately I'm finding new inspiration now that I no longer have a baby that naturally fulfills that task. Yet, inspiration grows all around me. If I dare to take it in, the universe is clapping it's hands and rallying the troops to cheerlead me on my way. And recently, I have found that inspiration in the most unexpected form.
I am a full-on, dedicated movie goer.
The girl who couldn't even stay awake at the most adrenaline-pumping part of The Fugitive, is taking in movies as fast as the producers will put them out. Give me a movie and I'll give you tears. Yes, even at "Pitch Perfect". These movies I watch, they squeeze the big picture- the climb, the fight, the reward- into a short two hours. I watch people keeping their focus, their eye on the prize, and pushing through let down after let down to get what they want. Jay becomes the surfer he always thought he could be. Mia doesn't stop looking until she finds the lead to Bin Laden. Abraham Lincoln goes to all costs to get his bill passed. All these people....they believe in their own dream and won't let anyone convince them otherwise.
And this moral speaks so intimately to me- this is what I need in this stage of my life. It infuses dedication into my soul. It reminds me of the big picture I've drawn. It feeds me ambition. In short, each movie is a gift, telling me not to give up, to chase that dream and believe in it...especially while climbing the steep hills.
Fittingly, as I finish the post, Good Morning America is announcing all the nominees for the Oscars. This marks a first in my life....I know the movies/actors that they're talking about! And I might even have an opinion about who should win!
Even though life is long....
life is also short.
Find what inspires you to touch the stars!
|want to know why I bought this shirt? Try riding a bike and not feeling liberated and inspired. I dare you!|