At the Park

With a chilled green iced tea from Starbucks, black wayfarer shades, pen and paper, my handy dandy computer, my rainbow polka dotted backpack and my homework spread out about me. With all those things I successfully feel like a college student as I sit at a little round table outside Starbucks. K-pop music plays in my earbuds as i read my online homework about "Ethics in Leadership"
I catch myself lifting my head every few minutes pondering the little things in life. I ponder things such as laughter,  happiness, life, time, purpose. I wonder why I think of these things at such a young age. Is it ok to think of these things before my retirement? I don't know, but I do. I wonder what destiny holds, or what life holds concerning purpose. I wonder why certain things happen to people, why there is pain in the world. Why tears exist and how unfair life can be.

These are strange thoughts that pass through my mind. This goes to show how distracted I can get when reading case studies on organizational leadership. :) blech.
I have been pretty grumpy these days. I get grumpy when I am disturbed in my soul. That's when I know something deep within me is stirring and in pain. And there is most definitely a stirring.
Here is the truth of the matter. My motivation for actions in my life (no matter what it is) is driven by convenience, the path with least resistance and confrontation. Because, the thought of feeling anything that hurts many times is to much for me to bear. An example for the present would be my iced tea. My fingers are chilled at the tips from my iced tea and I am uncomfortable, but the slight discomfort in the end is worth the sweet taste of the tea.

I remember the most intense pain I have ever felt, it was when I was young and I was swinging in the park. I used to love to swing as fast and hard as I could. I would swing with all my might until it felt that the swing would flip me over the bar. It was exciting and exhilarating to feel as though I was flying. But as I began to grow overly ambitious I felt  confident enough to lift my feet straight up in the air when I swung forward. I did this over and over! it was so fun to see the sand on the ground as i lifted my feet as straight and as high into the air as I could. My brown hair would sweep the sandy ground as I flew by, with each swing, and the warm breeze ministered to my young heart. I was carefree. but I began to get to confident and as a result I cared less about safety. With each swing I grew more careless and before I knew it i had landed roughly and firmly on my back and all the air was knocked out of my lungs. I had hit the ground so hard, that for seconds, if not a couple minutes I could not move. Breathing seemed impossible, and my chest seemed to have lost the ability to capture anything worth saving me and my very bones screamed out in protest from the impact. I laid on the ground immobile and writhing within. The most heartbreaking truth of this story was that no one was there to save me. I was in pain alone. The pain was so intense. I remember thinking, "Oh the pain! Stop the pain." and later (at such a young age) I pondered the measures it would take to never feel that pain ever again. The few moments of pain for me wasn't worth the endless hours of fun I gained on that carefree day at the park. I learned through the years to be careful, and in some ways to never take chances, because if I did, I could end up hurt.

Now I am perfectly content with swinging ever so slightly on the swing. I enjoy watching my feet sway back and forth across the dirt as the creak of the chains sing a song to me. I especially enjoy those quite swings at night when I can look up to the sky and see the innumerable amount of  stars twinkle down on me. That is when I feel lovely peace. But how much of that enjoyment comes from precaution. Have I just conditioned myself over the years to enjoy a few moments of swaying my feet, when I could enjoy the full potential of flying into the sky? Am I holding myself back simply because I fear feeling pain again? I ask myself this question in true wonderment.

yes my iced tea has watered down, and the sky has darkened. The breeze has picked up and my homework still lies unfinished. But this question still troubles me. With recent death all around me, I have revisited this question out of concern for myself. Ashley maybe it is time to swing with all your might. Maybe, it's time for you to take a chance and throw your feet straight into the air. Don't fear the consequences because the swing can only take you so high, just as the fall can only take you so low. there is a limit to both. It's time to swing with free abandon. It's time to set yourself free.