Back To School Philosophizing

I sent my kids back to school last week with mixed emotions.

For me, not them; they were super excited.

I am, of course, excited for them to start a new adventure. And I am filled with hope that this will be a great year, full of new learning and cool experiences, and fun and friendship, and lots of amazing growth. I love watching my kids grow. And while part of me misses aspects of the younger years (you know, the sweet stuff), mostly I really like the stage were in right now (except the sass...and the not listening...but I digress).

In the past, I've been so excited for school to start come August. My introverted, quiet-loving self is usually in need of breathing space after two months of nonstop kids. But as they get older and more independent, I find that there are only certain days when I feel that way. Now that they run out and play with friends for hours on their own, I get a little of that breathing space even when they're around all day. Some days they drive me nuts-- I mean, they are SO loud; but mostly, I think they're cool and sweet and funny and I like having them around.

Now we're starting back with routine and schedules. Usually I like this, crave it even, at least for the first half of the school year. But this year, not so much. I like our loose and free days. We're all better without the rushing. BUT, I know I need the schedule and routine for writing. I've hardly written all summer. I blame that on the kids being home, but I think it had more to do with me being lazy. Or in need of a break.

So, as the kids start back to a new routine of school and activities, and I start back into a new routine of writing and painting and who knows what else, I find myself on this continuing arc of change.

I know change is nothing new. Change is a constant, a sure thing, like death and taxes. But sometimes I hardly notice that it's happening; and other times, like now, I feel disoriented by what feels like tectonic shifts.

Right now I feel like everything is changing, in and around me. None of the changes are inherently bad, but they are all unnerving. I feel unsteady. Like I'm walking in one of those carnival fun houses where the floor shifts and tilts. I can't quite get my feet under me. And I have to stop, almost constantly, and remind myself that this is how it's supposed to be.

Being human is riding the wave of the human experience. The ups. The downs. The ebbs. The flows. The steady. The rocky. It's all how it's supposed to be. Smiles and tears. Fire and calm.

It's all how it's supposed to be.

When we accept reality, we see that life is not good or bad. Life is.

Just is.

When we can embrace the Is...of life, of ourselves, of others...we find ourselves in a wash of peace and contentment and joy. And that's what I'm aiming for.

So I sit at my dining room table, fingers on the keyboard, sun shining through the front window, the only sound the ticking of the clock, and I embrace the Is.

My kids are growing and changing and back at school. I am growing and changing and back at work. My life is growing and changing...and the ground I stand on is shifting and tilting, rocky and unsteady. But still I walk. Still I climb.

For a moment, I stop searching for the answers. Instead, I close my eyes and feel the sun on my face and just be.

Until next time, embrace the Is.

Namaste.