Leading me.

Once when I was younger, I was at a playground with monkey bars with my dad and brothers and sisters.

I decided to do the monkey bars by myself.  Naturally, I saw someone I knew vaguely, and decided I was going to show off my gymnastic ability by letting go of the bar I was holding with both hands, and swinging my hands--simultaneously--to the next bar. 

Did I mention I wasn't very tall at the time?  Probably 7 or 8.  So:  not real tall.

After opening my eyes from the jolt, my behind hurt.  Real bad.  And said person who I may or may not have been trying to impress was laughing at me.  I was shocked to realize that I had not, in fact, made the leap from one bar to the other with both hands at the same time and instead, I had landed, rather unpleasantly, on my behind--which hurt of a broken and bruised feeling.  I was not a gymnast!  It was rudely revealed to me, though I had never had any real training in it besides watching the summer olympics and doing flips off the swings in my backyard (though the real talent in that would come later--remind me to tell you about it some time). 

Don't you ever feel like life is like that?  You're aiming for something, it feels totally within reach, and then life rings your bell and says, NOPE.  Not today. 

Sometimes I feel like that. 

Sometimes life tells me NOPE.  Sometimes life says you're not a photographer, a writer, a good maker of your home, a good wife, good at drawing, good at being on time (though that will always, I fear, be true), a good dog owner, not very creative, not very good at much.

But the thing is, lately, I haven't felt that way.  I know there are days when I feel that way so strongly it's suffocating, but lately I feel as though I'm along for the ride--my life is leading me instead of the other way around. 

I guess you could say I'm more of a follower than a leader in that aspect.

Instead of fighting it and feeling frustrated, I see the wide open bowl of the valley in which I live and ink-black sky with honeyed stars on late night bike rides, and I feel like I can breathe so deeply.  As though my lungs are becoming full of air for the first time in a long time.  As though anything can be mine if I just relax and don't fight the natural flow. 

It's a peaceful place to be--knowing that everything will be fine.  That things will be even better if I don't fight so hard for control.

And that even if I shouldn't like this photo because it's not technically perfect, I don't care.  I love it with abandon.

However, I still wish I could've made the leap from one bar to the other, all at once.