I started thinking about being a kid, it was so fun and easy...you really don't know how good you have it while you are young, always wishing to be a grown up no matter what people tell you about cherishing the time you have to be irresponsible and do whatever you want. These days being irresponsible in my books relates to not cleaning the house on a Saturday. Wild and spontaneous have flown the coop in my world.
So back to being young...I remember in the school playground there was a large metal arch-like monkey bar that connected the jungle gyms. When I was in grade 3 I would sit and watch the grade 4 students in awe at how they could walk across the bars like they were walking across the ground, it looked so easy and so dangerous at the same time. There were moments when I, along with my best friends, would dare to attempt the feat of crossing the arch. We would take two steps, stumble and catch ourselves back at the bottom. A few weeks passed and we got halfway. Recess, evenings, weekends passed us by and finally the day came. I stood at the bottom of one end of the arch, took a breath and started my way. I had learned through trial and error that it was best to go for it, not to stop or hesitate on my next step and only to follow through. So I kept going, I made it to the middle point where so many times I had given up out of fear of tumbling to the ground from what then seemed like towering height. I pushed myself to keep going, tip toeing across the bars, where finally I made it to the other side. I turned back to the obstacle that had taken me so long to overcome, triumphant I smiled and my friends cheered me on.
It seems like forever since I've defeated a new arch in life. I've faced many obstacles but I've sat back and allowed my fear of falling... of failing... let me pass up the risk and what might come out of the challenge. I continually tell myself I can't instead of I can. When did that change?
When did I become a quitter?
If the grade 3 version of me met myself now she would laugh. She would be embarrassed at how shallow her future looks. Every dream she had slipped through the cracks of another arch. I feel like that 7 year old version of myself is trying to surface, trying to talk some sense into the 21 year old version that for some reason needs to contemplate her life and why parts of it seem to be meaningless and not at all what her dreams were made of instead of doing something about it.
People always say they wish they knew what they know now as adults when they were young. I think it should be the other way around. Children are wise about life. They are wise about the way they spend their time. At least when we were kids we were. There were no video games that consumed us for hours on end. We spent all of our time outdoors, bike rides, games, sports, anything to keep busy and be with our friends. What happened to those values?
Only a few years ago I remember making the promise to myself that I would never settle in a job that didn't fulfill me. Three years and then some down the line at the same job with the same un-fulfillment and yearn to find more I'm wondering what happened to that promise. And once again, the 7 year old would never break a promise...not to herself, not to her friends and not even to her diary...but it seems that everyday I promise myself to make better choices for a happier and better life and everyday I let myself down.
It's time for me to find an arch, brace myself, no pausing and no hesitation, just take a chance with stepping out to a new challenge so I can find out what lies on the other side.
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