The Open Door

 One of the many things happening right now is a huge shift that comes from putting childish things away.

I'm sitting on the upper back deck listening the birds, thinking and reflecting on things happening  with my little unit. My birds are awesome and a constant source of support and entertainment. We sent the last of elder's paperwork off on Friday and are waiting to see if there are any outliers--not too long; I want to make sure there is nothing standing in the way of day 1.

Younger played some guitar for me this afternoon before we went to order his flowers for prom.  So, he's all set. Elder shadowed again this morning. And I'm second week in on new gig. (Not really, because I've been doing the thing a few months now, but still doing all the paperwork that goes with the change of ownership).

Where I think I want to go today is to my village. I've spent the better part of the last 20 years building it, but it only feels like NOW the tree is finally bearing fruit.  This isn't to say that people haven't been there for me or us in all that time--not at all. We've always had what we needed when we've needed it, and for that I will be forever grateful.  No, I think it's more about the fact that I am finally in a position to be able to pay back and pay forward all the wonderful things that people have been able to do for us, and I finally feel like my head is free to do these things.

That probably sounds a little weird--what I mean is that all the volunteering and village eldering I've been doing has been an intentional way of ensuring my kids are included--heck, I know I've said that a million times.  This has required me to push waaaaay outside my comfort zone and do things that I probably never would have done in a million years otherwise (CYO track and field and scouts are two that spring to mind, but my blog is already littered with these experiences). I learned new things and met new people, but man, there are many hours spent that I would be happy to never repeat again, and a ginormous chunk of that is all the awkward social interaction with the adults (the kids were by and large fine, but there were plenty of those moments, too).

Now that we are moving out of that realm, I'm finding that I have more time to do stuff I want to do.  I have CHOICES. People ask me to do stuff and I can participate or not, whatever works for me. I don't feel compelled to do anything because there will be consequences if I don't.  And dart club has been a spectacular reminder that we are, always, at one time or another, beginners.

It was this thinking that led me to do something I never would have considered this past weekend; one of my friends needed a hand. This friend was on speed dial through elder's elementary and middle school careers.  I honestly thought I would never be able to do anything to repay that.

I realized this weekend that I do in fact have capacity to make good on all that goodness.

If it were as simple as doing one thing, that would be sufficient.  I realized that even though I didn't have any previous experience doing the core thing that was needed, it didn't matter because I had a hell of a lot more expertise that came in unexpectedly handy over the course of the day.

I always wish that people would assume competency of the boys, but maybe I need to assume competency of myself.

And...I think the best thing about this particular moment of life, the ability to say yes to things I really want to do, is that saying yes opens a whole lot of doors I didn't even know existed.

It's good to know that doors can still open.