This is a stressful month. It sits heavy on me while I share my thoughts on sexual assault. I tell the stories of people who trust me with some of their most vulnerable moments. I wrap my arms, sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively, around each person who’s experience I read or write. As I strive to educate others, encourage others, and simply let people know they’re not alone, I feel the need to sigh deeply. I feel the need to breathe.
So, I do. I sometimes pause my typing and close my eyes to take a few cleansing breathes in and out. I sometimes let tears flow in the shower (one of my favorite places to cry). And sometimes I completely lose my marbles in the kitchen.
That happened the other day. I’d just done my final edits on Gail’s story. My moment of quiet prayer was shattered by kids running in from outside to share with me the newest excitement in their lives – climbing trees, hitting the straw bale with the homemade spear, and progress with the on-going Ninja training! Oh the joys!
But talk about switching gears. Whew.
So, I closed my computer and shared their joys and moved on to making and eating dinner. Life continues on. We chatted and shared and talked and dreamed. Normal parent-children interactions over some delicious ribs from the smoker. Then, as we cleaned up Gracie started humming Dead or Alive’s song You Spin Me Right Round. (It’s in your head now, too, isn’t it? You’re welcome!) I started singing with her and soon I was literally spinning around in circles in the kitchen with my hands out to the side laughing.
It felt wonderful and silly and light. My oldest, Jace, who never quite gets any of my emotions, especially the extremes like kitchen goofiness, shook his head and said he’d be researching homes for me if I needed him. We have an on-going family joke about when my husband and I are old and the kids will need to care for us – or put us in a home. Jace sees most everything I do as a sign that I might be losing my grasp on reality and need a home sooner, rather than later. And his dry sense of humor and serious delivery of these little comments just crack me up!
So I laughed more and twirled more. Gracie sang with me. It was good, clean, innocent fun. Such a healthy, happy way to take a break from life’s heft.
Giddiness may not be for everyone, but I’d recommend giving it a try. It’s a great way to breathe. It’s a great way to be.