I want to live a big life. Not big like “Look at me! Look at me!!” but big like full of experiences, full of joy, full of braveness and love and people and parties and goodness, even full of sorrow and braveness in the face of it. I want a life full to bursting, like a water balloon that’s sprung a leak because you’ve let the water run in too long and it can’t hold. Full and then some.
But lately I’m feeling small. Not unnoticed or meaningless or without consequence but like I’m playing it small, staying inside what’s comfortable and sometimes forgetting that there’s even options beyond that horizon. Letting life live me and just kind of keeping my hands and feet in as it spins, like those merry-go-rounds you used to sit in & the other kids would run and spin you on the playground – pull everything in close and just let it happen.
It’s starting to feel cramped.
Today Jeffery wanted to teach me to drive stick in our new (to us) Corolla and I said no. Partially because he sprang it on me, partly because I still have a sinus headache and my brain felt like it couldn’t fit any new information around the balloon someone inflated inside my head. And partly because I was playing it small. It felt scary and uncomfortable and too raw. So I curled in on myself again.
Today I saw a ladybug as I walked in the 64 degree weather and I felt the bouyancy of spring, of winter letting go its viselike grip and the air expanding, making room. Making room for more life, more growth, more of me.
It’s time to turn on the faucet.