keeping at it

I remember, as a kid, making Big Statements about Forever:

…I’m going to keep this [china doll/paper fan collection/second-hand silver purse] forever

…I’m going to keep my closet organized forever

…I wish I could have Rhoda and my grandparents forever (Rhoda was our beagle mix)

…I want to live in the yellow house forever

…And keep the white station wagon forever

While I dreamt…of being a ballet dancer and sharing a loft in Manhattan with my friend Alison, who planned to be a fashion designer….I was fine keeping dreams what they were: far-off. Never eager to wear a bra or start my period or really grow up in that way, I’d have happily played kickball in the cemetery across the street — yes — forever.

I was four years old here; Rhoda was seven

Time does its thing, though.

It passes.

You wouldn’t believe how much dust those paper fans collected(!!), displayed, as they were, on my dresser top. (‘Til college.) Rhoda died when I was 11…the first event to really rock my world. And I’m sorry I don’t have a picture of that white Chevy wagon. I swear, that car had a smile on its grill.

For better or worse, nothing’s forever.

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All this to say…I did myself a favor this summer when I set the guiding tenet: Flex + Flow.

It’s crossed my mind over and over as our beach season wraps up for the year.

Our crew of cottage kids has grown out of sand play and snacktime and into ‘having plans’ and summer jobs. They’re pre-teens and teens. Some went back-to-college mid-August; others resumed high school, started middle school in September.

I heard parents and grandparents lamenting it, missing summers they’d have kept forever, if they could. (Those were sweet summers of floaties and sand pails and babies in bucket hats. And! There were sandy diapers; sandy car seats. Bedwetting/no washing machine. Kids who ate all. day. long. but couldn’t reach the counters themselves. There was that, too!)

Little E when she really was *little*!!

I can hear that it’s not just toddlers and sand castles they miss. It’s that kids with commitments…cramp parents’ styles! Our family felt it, some. While we no longer build our days around naptime — we now plan around kids who, thankfully, want and need to become individuals. Who are developing…lives!…of their own.

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Flex + Flow.

It doesn’t come naturally to me, I’ll admit. But setting the prompt and practicing has been impactful. By no means does it turn me laid back. But —

→ it keeps expectations in check

→ it reminds me the only person I have some control over is myself

→ it conserves good energy/reduces negative/saves some for when you need it most

→ it makes room for what is

→ it’s a muscle. Which means 1) the more I practice it, the stronger it gets and 2) muscles have memory! (Critical.)

*Because* I don’t flex + flow naturally, I started small: Instead of attaching to small decisions or outcomes, I practiced responding with, Y’know? I really don’t care.

It sounded glib, at first. (I didn’t mean it that way.)

Funny thing was, I found it to be true! I’m talking relatively small stuff. I don’t even know what, now, exactly. Maybe how to cook something. What color something should be. Going to place A or B or no place at all. Or — now I remember — cottage renovations. Niggling over a few inches. Or a handle. Exhaust fans. In all of these cases I stopped to think, How much do I care? Does this really matter? How much will I care in 6 months?

I noticed that…most of the time, I truly don’t care! Because most of the time? I know I won’t notice in 6 months 6 weeks. Which means 1) I/we don’t waste time discussing it. (And discussing and discussing and discussing it.) 2) When something really does matter, I’m confident and comfortable lobbying. (I insisted on adding a particular outlet even though it meant redoing some drywall. Troy and the contractor did not agree — but now they both use it (and admit it was worth it).

Maybe the biggest gain I’ve gleaned so far: Flex + Flow tempers my response to big[ger] blows…and helps me loosen my grip on the past…on what’s turned out differently than hoped for or planned…on choices that were never mine to make in the first place…on the forevers.

I won’t say let go. But loosen. Loosen, for sure. (And that’s no small thing.) I know I’m not alone here when I say that as we all age and grow…our parents, ourselves, our kids…our perceived control over outcomes is more and more illustrative of the proverb, ‘We plan; God laughs.’

As the equinox nears (11 days!), I’m looking back at the long spacious summer. A few things I’ll set aside. Like white pants and late bedtimes. But to borrow a phrase from my Grandpa Seymour: ‘…If I know what’s good for me,’ I’ll take Flex + Flow right into fall.

And winter.

And on into next spring.