The Swing

Last spring, Mark and I bought a wooden swing on Etsy and taught ourselves how to tie a special knot so we could hang it from the amazing maple in front of the house.  We practiced and practiced and finally got the knot right, and then we hung the swing.  It was sort of a weird thing to put up since there are no kids here now, and sometimes it makes me a bit sad to see it hanging there, like it wants to be a use-ful swing and has to settle for just sitting there empty and still, but recently it has served as a magnet for the neighbors’ kids and grandkids. 

So today, as I was weeding and trying to figure out what to plant in my scrappy right front beds, and just as Mark was saying “Let’s go run our errands”, I put everything down and climbed on the swing like I’d seen little Opal from next door do.  I kicked my legs out and looked up at the sunlight sneaking through the tree leaves and felt the wind on my face as I swung back and forth.  For a few minutes I was just a little girl on a swing on a summer day.

And it was delightful.

It was a wonderful reminder of how dramatically our experience can shift:  from the sadness of “no kids here now”, to the found-joy of welcoming neighbors’ kids, to the elation of reclaiming “being” over “doing”.  We don’t know what the next moment will bring, but with practice we can rest in acknowledgement of the present moment, of our ability to hold it and be with it, and in the knowledge that it will change yet again.

Wishing you peace, ease and joy,
Your CMP family

P.S.  That's Opal in the photo :  )