Press One for Grace
She does this thing where she extends her arms straight down or a bit in front of her body and bends her wrists so they are somewhat at a 90-degree angle, fingers flexed out straight as well. Then she says “okay” and begins narrating what she or we are going to do next. Or what we need to do.
I thought it was a cute tic until I caught myself doing it too. It was mine and I caught myself doing it right before I mentally needed to psych myself into some seemingly everyday activity. Usually this moment also triggered a buzzing on my wrist and a Breathe reminder on the face of my Apple Watch. Technology, my personal and creepy cheerleader.
I hadn’t even caught on to my own “Okay” self peptalk, but I was already keenly aware of the exhale from deep within that comes at the end of these same Breathe-triggering episodes.
Being next in the grocery checkout lane.
When the conductor comes around to check travel passes on the train.
Making any phone call within the +31 country code.
Merging into bike traffic. Merging out of bike traffic. Creating more bike traffic.
We delight when a child shows a natural interest in sharing something we love, and when they start developing their own tastes. Reminding us that yes, I am from you, but I am only me. Ah, but pendulum must swing the other way and so I also know how she used – in perfect context – a word I shall not mention here, and why she is completely at ease leaving the house without touching a comb to her head. Ahem.
Here where we are both learning and failing and growing every day, she gets to see her mama make mistakes too. And when I find my internal kettle boiling in the midst of these moments, her presence is a reminder that it’s a growing experience for both of us. Also, that watch buzzing again.
“Don’t get frustrated, mama,” she says more often than I’d prefer. “Just get right back up and try it again.” Credit for that one goes to Wishenpoof and I remind myself that even so far away, I have a village. And a great kid. She curses too much, but I’m working on that.
When I saw Jim’s email with the subject line “Possible International Opportunity?” I knew the answer before I’d finished reading. It was late October 2016, I was a few days away from running my second marathon and you know what else was right around the corner. I was high on possibility and optimism when I fired back a comprehensive “OMGGGGG” and thought about how this might change my daughter’s life. I had no clue how much it would change mine.
Life, of course, rarely colors in the lines. In between dreams of exciting new cultures, cuisines and experiences are the everyday (very first-world) realities of navigating customer service numbers in another language to troubleshoot the WiFi.
In Daring Greatly, Brene Brown says “The willingness to show up changes us, It makes us a little braver each time.” I can recognize my courage and vulnerability though there are still quite a few layers covering bravery.