A Child's Play
It's the weekend. Nice spring weather, play park getting full and I hear the high-pitch cheers of tiny people (a.k.a. children) outside. It's only a matter of time until our little one realizes he's missing out on the fun.
I love where we live. Forest preserves and parks are just steps away from our backyard. But like any other perks, there are few downsides. For example, keeping the lawn weed-free is almost impossible. Nature has it's way of relentlessly sending the seeds of the unwanted sprouts blown through our way.
Then, there are the tennis and volleyball courts directly facing the windows of my studio. I swear they wave at me each day saying, 'We're waiting for you.' I used to play tennis back in college but didn't got into volleyball that much. I'm not much of a 'contact sports' person. First time I tried volleyball and felt the tingling pains in my wrist last for weeks, I vowed to stick with non-contact sports.
I lost count how many times I told myself, I'll get back into tennis or learn volleyball. The courts are just right in our backyard anyway. Oh, the many plans we make, and break. This is why I don't mind watching the little man play in the sandbox.
We're both able to 'start over' again. Forgive ourselves on the plans we break. There, he builds, creates, digs, piles, and explores, and do it all over again. While he's busy experimenting on new ways to line up mounds of sand into miniature hills, I savor that little 'pause' time for myself.
I'm able to reflect on few things, just few because within ten minutes or so, he'll be wanting me to jump in there. If I'm lucky, there'll be kids who'll join him and I can resume my 'reflection' time. Watching the kids play on the sandbox reassured me that's it's okay if some of my plans don't materialize. Or if the dreams we built sometimes break, and expectations fall through.
That it's okay to live imperfectly. Life is a big sandbox, waiting to be explored.
Maybe this time, I'll dig into mine with childlike wonder to see what treasures await me.