The best we can, part 2: Fall

I wrote this crazy whiny blog post last night that I published but never posted to social media and somehow, thirteen people still found it, although twelve of those may have been spam bots from r-e-f-e-r-e-r.com...weird.

I'm keeping it up because even though it lamely attempts to be present, happy, and bright, it's really just me whining, and I think it's important to show that I am not, in fact, present, happy, or bright all of the time.

You can read it here.

But I can also summarize.

It was all about how we did nothing memorable on a glorious fall day, and I dress my kids horribly un-trendy, and they often refuse to eat vegetables and I was tired of watching my news feed showcase only the stuff that made me feel like crap.

Because I totally compared myself to those news feed posts. And I shouldn't. But I did.

Human.

So fast forward to now, where yesterday's whine (although I wish it were wine) carried over to a case of the Monday blarghs and it's a full moon and technology messed up those dreaded SLOs and the kids were cranky and.

Blargh.

Now press pause.

Deep breath.

Resume play.

This moment.

I just finished my fourth chocolate chip cookie (yes, fourth!) with a cool breeze blowing on my face from that glorious fall weather while I sit and type and wait on a plumber to arrive who will allow me to take hot showers without flooding the finished basement.

And in my news feed was a post by a photographer who I don't know, but who, in a general photo of a cup of coffee said, "Expectations from others have the ability to destroy you, but only if you let them." (Follow thedefineschool on Instagram, and you can view such wisdom yourself.)

Like a good Language Arts teacher in a stream of consciousness writing assignment, I carried myself away from this desk chair and computer, and I found myself here.

At the risk of sounding like a crazy person, this tree calls to me, and has since we first moved in. We have an amazing acre of woods right out our back door, and this strong, enormous gem catches my eye every time I scan the yard.

Spring is for dragging our roots up out of the earth, dusting off, and beginning to tread lightly. Summer is for floating through air, whimsiscal and light. Winter is for hibernation, for burrowing and finding warmth.

But Fall. Fall is for letting our roots seep again. For grounding ourselves and settling into something solid and tangible and safe.

Safe from the expectations of others that we think exist--of the "What will they thinks" and the "Who even cares" and the "Why do I put myself out theres."

Fall is for the reset button; the trees shed their leaves and we watch them let go with grace and freedom.

We let go, too.

I'm letting go.

I choose to let go of my own expectations of myself as a mom, a wife, a teacher, and I certainly let go of what others' perceive to be ideal and fabulous...what is ideal for one is not for the other, and who are we to judge (ourselves or others) in saying what ideal looks like. It changes. Every day. Maybe even in each moment.

I acknowledge where I faulter and I know that no one area of my life can ever be equally as strong as the next at the same moment in time. It's this beautiful dance of give and take where we waiver one day and shine radiantly the next.

How we let go is of little importance; run, yoga, dance with wild abandonment, cry, sigh, laugh with friends, sing, scream, whine, or wine.

Shake it out, Florence and the Machine.

I'll go ahead and take all of the above, please.

Once we've cleared, we dig deep and settle in and we feel better. Free. Strong.

Even big trees bow with the wind.

What counts is that we find smiles and giggles and love in as many moments as we possibly can.

And if that means eating four chocolate chip cookies on a perfect fall day while setting my roots alongside a magical tree, then so be it.

Happy Fall.