We went camping last week for a few days. It was a much-needed break from our usual routine. We stayed near a beach that had an amazing amount of driftwood along the shores.
Industrious people had come before us and built a variety of shelters and lean-tos from the driftwood. The kids wanted to look in all of them. I wanted to build one.
I started moving logs and wood. Stacking and rearranging. I picked up one end of tree and set it on the end of another tree. I set out to build a fort for the kids to play in. But the kids were not impressed. They grew bored quickly and moved on to other already-built forts.
I carried on. Realizing that what started as “building a fort for the kids” was actually “building a fort for me.” I hunted. Gathered. Stacked. My creation grew into a small structure I could eventually sit under. Sit on the sand and watch the waves crash on the shore.
It was so much fun.
If I were my own best friend I would tell myself to build something for myself. Not for the kids. Not for the partner. Not for the manager. Or the friends. Or the accolades. Or the award. Just for me.
Build it for me because it’s fun. Because I can. Because I get to feel like a kid for a little bit. A little bit freer. A little bit lighter. A little bit looser. And in that freedom there may be the ability to see a glimmer of who I am meant to be. Who I am becoming.
Beautiful! Glad you got to get outside, to spend time with the ocean. Going to miss you in WIC, but so glad we crossed paths. Your book should be arriving any day now!
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I’ll miss you too! I hope the book arrives soon (and you enjoy it)!