Pacific Northwest WONDERLAND.

It’s not easy to slow down, take a breath, listen to my body, check in with my family in more than just passing. I live in a heightened state of movement, needing to meet deadlines, pressure to stay present with my family, amidst deep desire for connection.

I have a list of reasons I give myself, family, and others why I need to check most, if not all of the boxes. So many times I am able to check these boxes. Whether I’m coaching my 8 year old son’s basketball game, driving to piano lessons, catching an early ferry to have coffee with a friend, I’m trying. I’m trying, right? 

Trying to do what? What am I actually trying to do? What am I actually accomplishing?

And, what am I missing…..

The Pacific Northwest Wonderland spoke to me Monday. It told me to slow down. The trees in the picture change from hour to hour.

And, then there’s the wildness of the snow calling my children. If I slow down enough, calm my spirit, it calls to me, too. 

I went from sitting in the quiet of my house, listening to the giggles, screams and discussions over where sledding is best to strapping on my boots. First I climbed onto the back porch and directed traffic, laughing with them at the unpredictable shenanigans of sledding and snow fun.

(see video clip, here https://youtu.be/1UYUIXAasho )

I came back inside. My boots, my jacket, long underwear, and gloves fit well enough. When I came out of the house, the kids laughed. They clambered to ask me to sled down this hill or that one and wondered if I would go off the snow ramp they created.

Don’t. Miss. Out.

Over and over I went down the hill, laughing. I dodged blackberry bushes. I crashed. Was pummeled by snow balls. We did it over and over. I came back inside, leaving them to continue playing.

I exhaled. I inhaled. I smelled the outside, inside. The wonderland lived on my clothes, my skin, connected me to joy. Yeah, my children argue, and I’m “on call” the entire day. Yeah, I feel like hiding for an hour to regain some sanity. This all means I’m alive.

Gifts aren’t always free of mess. Some gifts are intertwined with messy life.

Not all days do I scrap my schedule for fun or the wilderness. In fact, if it wasn’t for the weather, I’d be chipping away at the regular responsibilities. But, not today. Not yesterday. These are days like treasure.

So, as I stand at my kitchen counter cooking and mediating snow day conflict, I tell myself to try to remember all of these feelings — the good, the bad, the joy, the frustration, just all of it. I don’t want to forget the sweetness or the hardness.

I get to have this life, a life where I am fully present and alive.

A life where I know the truth. A life where I learn. A life where pain isn’t the end. A life where despair is real. A life where hope springs new. A life where there is not hope. A life where there’s a mix of everything on any given day.

This is my dream life. Kids. Joy. Hard. Good. Love. Repair. Connection. Fight. Hope. Alive. Real.