Yes I Can Life

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My littlest guy is 6. In his world these are facts: 1. He will marry me. (And that isn’t weird at all to him) 2. If I would only allow him to climb the 40 ft tall Eucalyptus tree near our house, capture the owl that hoots at night he could then ‘tame him’  and he would then ride the owl to Legoland and use his own money (he has a total $5.47) to gain entrance. Then, he will ride the owl home all before we even notice he is gone.  3. His Dad will soon bring a great white shark home to him to keep for a pet. He’s pretty sure Shelly (the turtle) will share it’s tank willingly. 4. He’s convinced that eating 700 pancakes is totally possible if I cut them up very, very tiny first.

OK, he’s 6. I get that it’s cool to think that stuff when you are little. At my age….uh, yeah… that would be kinda crazy. BUT I gotta tell you something. I noticed something about his thinking. He thinks he can.My thinking, on the other hand, having gotten it’s [email protected]@ kicked repeatedly in the big ol’ adult world has lost much of that ‘Sure, I can ______________(fill in whatever)’ and naturally has matured into thinking instead through possible obsticles, alternate outcomes, costs, etc. And then deciding I’m not sure if I actually really could (or should) or that I’m simply too tired/frustrated/busy anyway.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to sit here from the safety of my rolling/swiveling chair & my keyboard and proclaim that we should all Kum Ba Yah ourselves back into our childlike fearlessness and loudly muster ourselves up a YES I CAN LIFE ~ all because I had a ‘moment of enlightenment’ while watching my 6 year old pretend he was riding his ‘super extra loud’ motorcycle to Alaska (while he was actually riding the 2 blocks home after swimming today). No, that would be a little too ethereal for this old, real-life-hardened Fisherman’s Wife. But. That boy. He Can.

So… the energy for my do list, the focus I need for the projects I need to tackle, the patience I need to dig for, the forgiveness that seems to slip from my grasp, the gentle sensitive heart, the steady, strong gaze that I know, that I know, that I know was once mine…. I’d like that to be refreshed a little bit, re-hydrated I guess.

So I spend a few minutes, watching and listening and soaking in my boy as he lives his I can life. And, it is like a gentle, refreshing trickle-sprinkle of memories from when I could.

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