…and met for breakfast, here’s what would spew out of my head and my mouth:
I’d tell you that I recently started a new job, going back to a prior employer in a leadership role. And it’s strange to feel like your surroundings are simultaneously familiar and unknown. I’ve had lots of job, and many new starts, yet I always underestimate how hard the transition is. To forget the path to the bathroom, to eat solo at your desk because you’re not quite sure how the team dynamics are just yet. How you have to mentally wade through all the newness to find your normal. The benefit of having done this many times before is I know it’s just a phase – one that will segue quietly into a memory.
I’d say that Lila at 22 months is a spitfire chatterbox who loves to command those around her, “No, Mama, Lila try,” “Move Molly, out,” “Mah cah-cah peeease.” It’s astounding to be able to communicate back and forth when for so many months you are literally talking to your child like an enthusiastic maniac without a coherent response. This girl is fearless (except around loud trucks or motorcycles – not a fan) and so full of laughter and joy, often giggling so hard she erupts into snorts and the most glorious uncontrolled belly laughs. I watch her in constant awe of her unabashed approach to life. The innocence and bravery only a child can possess. Not giving an ounce of concern to filtering her emotional responses, running around naked and living completely and fully as herself in every moment.
I would sigh and talk about how hard it is to process the world right now. That sometimes it’s hard to breathe when I think about the grave unfairness and pain that exists. Everything seems amazing and horrible all at once. News stories about insanely awesome medical advances and amazing human feats interspersed with others about horrific violence and misfortune. My Facebook feed is a chaotic juxtaposition of friends with sick kids posting updates from hospitals, and other friends sharing political rants, new recipes or workout selfies. I love it all, and my own content is as miscellaneous as anyone else’s, but it all just seems so strange what lands on our respective plates. Some days I want to dedicate my entire life and all my money to help anyone who needs it. Other days I want to hide from life and ignore it all. Most days I just strive to be kind (even when it requires deep breathing) and see the good where I can. And I count my blessings like a madwoman because hello – no matter what hardships I like to think I’ve experienced, my life is a complete privilege.
I think I’d probably tell you that no matter how busy I get, even with a toddler and new job and all the rest, I still make it a point to work out for a half hour a day. I need the endorphins and it’s time for just me. It might be at 6 a.m. or at 10 p.m. but I get it in and it helps me stay centered and ok. Some people pray in quiet churches or meditate on mountaintops – I find solace in pushing my body to find new strength.
I would declare that I’m hibernating from the summer heat (it was 120 this weekend, come ON) and still enjoy the debate as to whether our summers are worse than frigid midwest winters.
And I’d absolutely tell you to watch the new Season of Chef’s Table, and that Daring Greatly by Brene Brown is worth a read, and the meditation app Calm is pretty awesome if you ever can’t sleep.