Here’s a pic of me at about 4 years old with a mullet (thanks mum). All wide-eyed and innocent, not having a single clue about anything.
Whenever I listen to that song today, I can close my eyes and feel the motion of the car, the wind in my hair and this intense swell of love.
It was yet another rainy day and my cousin, my sister and I were having the time of our lives literally singing in the rain.
We can choose to meet death like a great opponent about to begin an epic sword fight. We grow in size by our ability to live life in its absolute fullness.
Having someone you love die feels like suddenly getting yanked by the collar of your shirt and being dragged at breakneck speed through the clouds and then gently being released into the atmosphere.
Here’s to finding more room for letting our inner child roam free!
“If you know someone who has lost a very important person in their life, and you’re afraid to mention it because you think it might make the person sad by reminding them of someone who died- you’re not reminding them; they didn’t forget. What you’re reminding them of is that you remembered that the person lived. And that is a great, great gift.”
This was taken sometime in the early 90’s at the Cairo Zoo in Egypt.
There is a famous home video my Dad took of my sister and I and in it, he asks us what the names of the turtles are.
Taking it back to a much simpler time when I found extreme amounts of joy in throwing a shirt (or towel) over my head and pretending my short boy-looking hair was actually long, luscious, Rapunzel-type locks.