Some mornings give me a moment to reflect and think about something other than myself.
I look outside and see the potential for reflection and play. For what could come from this day. Then I try to write and relax into the words, while my daughter plays. But the cat climbs into my lap and lets me know she wants to have her morning pets.
I start to think about what would be noticed or seen if the time was taken to observe more and distract less. Not just with technology, but the noises in my head. The chatter, the worries the fear, the self-doubt and worrying about the day and days to come.
There remains a row of tall grass against the fence in the backyard. You can see where how tall the grass grew from the stains of green. It’s shorter now, but still longer than it’s suppose to be. Even typing those words make me think about how tall it’s suppose to be is based off of what is perceived to be other people’s expectations of how “my yard” should look. We don’t get to make that choice, because other people have decided dandelions are bad, no matter how much my daughter loves them and knows them to be flowers.
There was a bunny in the backyard this morning. It was driving the cat mad chasing from one one to the next. She action movie styled a race upstairs for some reason. Guess she thought she could see better from that perspective. Sitting at this tables, seeing drops of rain hang on to blades of grass left uncut, a mini wall of grass against the back fence, and knowing there’s a world of things happening in one house, what could possible be happening with people in all these other houses.
I’ll see a runner shortly run by the house. It’ll help motivate me to run today, just as it did yesterday. On my run, I’ll hope someone sees me running and think “yup, I need to get out there to”. Not for me, for them.
Sometimes I wonder what I’m missing being inside these four walls. Other times, I wonder what I’ll miss when I’m not.
A Better Father 