Little by Little

I spend my days looking for moments that give me chills.  Today, I found one.  I was helping a family who came in for their kid’s birthday.  He started climbing and couldn’t make it up the easiest wall.  I had a massive challenge in front of me.  I had to figure out a way to make his time at the climbing gym special.

So I brought him on different walls and climbs and he never made it up.  Until about half way through our time together I showed him a climb with big red holds.  I asked him if he wanted to go to the top.  He smiled and said, little by little.  I laughed and told him to go for it.

He made it to the top, terrified and shaking, and then I lowered him.  His whole family cheered.  The rest of the day, he didn’t make it to the top of a single climb.  But in that one moment he broke through that fear and found some courage to push through his fears and make it to the top.

Now, I am not saying the whole goal of climbing is making it to the top.  I climb to have fun.  Lots of people like to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing.  But that is like telling a five year old that he is swinging on the swings the wrong way.  Unless of course he is pumping his legs the wrong way.  Then, by all means, correct him.

I got goosebumps today, not because I felt happy, but because I know that kid had a lot of fun.  I knew that I helped him have fun, and I knew his family had fun.  And just for that one moment,  we all were connected looking at the kid climb higher and higher.  #metaphor

Because of the whole situation, I wrote a poemish first draft thing below.  Enjoy.

Like a warm glass of milk

Some say, life is hard.
And please, tell me again.
Because I know it to be true.

Life can kick your ass, hard.
Like a sack of bricks on your pinky toe, hard.
Like falling out of a plane, splat, hard.

And I know it to be true.
There’s this moment when someone leaves you,
for work, for another person, for a different void,
for someone you don’t recognize anymore.

That kind of hard makes paranoia seem fluffy.
That kind of hard doesn’t stop pounding
no matter who hugs you, no matter what medication you take, no matter what doctor you go to, no matter how many tears you shed deep into the night, and no matter how many puppies lick them away.

I’m interested in that kind of hard.
I’m interested in the kind of hard that sucks the life out of you.
Then, I’m interested in what makes it all flood back through
cleansing and ravenous.

Fear is cold and tight.
(I always like the thaw).

Spring is always near.

Funny thing is I don’t even drink my milk warm.  I just like the way it sounds.

Things will happen in your life that will make you hurt, really bad.  But little by little, your body heals.  And it doesn’t come through pints of ice cream and glasses of milk (although that is how I choose to medicate sometimes).  It comes through tackling your “issues”, one by one, day by day, little by little.

I tie people together every day.  I know how to tie knots so well by now that I dream about tying knots.  I can tie, tighten and dress knots so freaking well.  I don’t even think about tying knots anymore.  The repetition can get dangerous.

But I also untie them.  I think about that #climbingmetaphor every time I walk into a social situation.  I am a master of tying myself into knots.  I can talk to people and make every little word and interaction mean something.  I swear, it’s a curse.

There are little “neuroses” or knots that we tie into our lives every day.  But the best part is figuring how to untie yourself and be happy as a lone rope, loose, free and flowy.

A good friend gave me Brené Brown’s Rising Strong in September.  I have been working through it very slowly.  Brené has been untying my knots, slowly, but surely.

Tonight, on a lovely Saturday night,  I worked my way through the last pages of the book. Wow, wouldn’t that be great to say. After a few episodes of Girls, a cutesy movie called Waitress and Instagram shenanigans with Snoopy,  I only read sixty pages.

Snoopy found a really nice quote.  He realized he needs my family to survive and live a fulfilling life.

In a culture of scarcity and perfectionism, asking for help can be shaming if we’re not raised to understand how seeking help is human and foundational to connection.

Snoopy needs us just like we need him.  He has provided my family and I with millions of moments of joy.  But that is only part of the equation.  There is a constant giving and receiving going on in between this little white fluffy dog and the people around him.  Snoopy found another interesting quote to further explain his predicament.

The bottom line is that we need each other. And not just the civilized, proper, convenient kind of need.  Not one of us gets through this life without expressing desperate, messy, and uncivilized need.  The kind we are reminded of when we come face-to-face with someone who is in a deep struggle.

Dependence starts when we are born and lasts until we die.

So from my little white fluffy dog to yours (follow him on IG, now), find someone you need.  Rest your heart on them.  I dare you.  And if you lose them, cry.  But know those tears happened for a reason.  Know that you exist in that web of life for a reason greater than yourself.

You belong somewhere. Always.  Crawl your way into that space, little by little.

Here’s a song that makes me want to howl at the moon from the rooftops.

peace, love and healthy boundaries,

CR