Life of Yes

Sitting along the sidelines of the soccer field, I was chatting with a fellow mom in between goal saves and corner kicks about how I was headed downtown that night to go check out a new restaurant and then a roof top bar with a girlfriend of mine.  Her reaction was “Wow, you have lived here a year and already done more than I have in the past 10.”  Surprisingly, this is not the first time I have heard that response.  In some ways, I am like a newlywed with this city I now call home;  over the initial hopelessly in love phase, you know- where even the quirks are cute and you find them endearing.  Now, I realize, they are just quirks.  And yes, I may wake up one day and realize that the city has left its socks on the bathroom floor AGAIN  and we may just end up having our first fight, but for now I am certainly enjoying this infatuation phase while I can get it.

But the reality is that my life was not always this way.  My life used to be composed of a lot of no.  Personally, when wanting to try something new, the thought of what would happen if it didn’t work out, or just to many “to-do’s” to fit in a little adventure prohibited me from actually trying.  And I would certainly never have gone someplace by myself.  I would be embarrassed to show up without a friend in tow- as if the scarlet letter A actually stood for Alone.  I was also faced with a lot of what I call road blocks.  Looking back, the relationship I was in provided a lot of “that is just too much work to make happen” or “I really don’t want to do that- but you go” type of stuff.  Road blocks that I should have found a way around, but instead I allowed them to stop me in my tracks.  How sad is it that I missed out on so many wonderful life experiences.  Regardless of the why, I was  the holder of my own destiny and for whatever reason felt that I had to have affirmation that yes, you should do that, before I actually took the first step. 

Now, I choose to live a life of Yes.  Yes, I will go on that trip where all we have prepared is a full tank of gas and maybe a place to stay- the rest we will figure out as we go. Yes I will try a new restaurant, sporting event or singles group when the opportunity presents itself.  Yes, I will make sure I go to the Farmer’s Market on the square when I feel like it just because it makes me happy.  And why not check out that country western bar?  It doesn’t have to be my favorite place, and chances are that I will never return, but for me, it’s all about the experience.  (And the boots. Can’t forget the boots.) 

I realize that life is busy.  It’s hard.  There is always “something” going on.   But I had to live through a life changing event in order to gain my Yes back- never again will I let the routine of daily life be the reason to hang on to the No.  What is it that you want to experience?  What have you been thinking about in the back of your mind to try, just to see if you might like it?  It doesn’t have to be difficult.  Walk the downtown of a city that you have never been to before.  Sign up for that photogrophy class- you don't have to be the next Annie Liebovitz or Ansel Adams- making yourself happy is reason enough.  Attend a summer festival in a neighboring state.  Go check out that place you have driven by 100 times and each time said “I really want to go there.”   Or, if you are really daring, get out that Life List and start checking things off. 

You never know what you might discover- about your surroundings, and about yourself.

Yes.

Skate On My Good Man, Skate On

So the other day Belle was feeling particularly in the dumps, and I asked her what was going on.  She commented on how everything lately was all about GG- she had to sit through soccer games, listen to drum lessons, and witness the end of year hoopla that is the conclusion of the 5^th grade.  I have to say, hard to argue with logic.  The truth is that was exactly what our lives had been like over the previous few weeks, and in all honesty Belle had been a trooper- a trooper with a pouty lip, but trudged along nonetheless.  Despite months of constant requests of “Just choose an activity and I will sign you up!” there had been nothing that resonated with that little girl, so hence, for now, it is all about GG’s activities.

So, I told her that one day that weekend we would do something just for her, and she could pick what it was.  Her eyes lit up and she exclaimed “Sparkles!”

Sparkles is the resident roller rink.  My Georgia Skateland for all my Michigan friends.

Oh.

Sunday afternoon arrived and off we went.   Little did I realize what a lucrative business this skating thing was as I passed over $33 at the door just to get in.  This did not include the laser tag or any snacks.  Just skates.  But as I mentioned, Belle has wasted hours on the sidelines and eating lunch on the run in the backseat as we travel from one activity to the next, so in reality $33 didn’t seem like much price to pay. 

The second we walk in, it could have been $50 and I would have paid it all over again just to see that aura of happiness that radiated from her.

As we got in line to retrieve our skates (oh, yes folks, you know I did) I glanced around at the establishment.  I swear, aside for the current top 40 playing on the sound system, I could have been 11 years old and striding into Skateland with my freshly polished red, white and blue skates sporting my Michael Jackson Beat It jacket (Oh, yes folks, you know I did).  There must be some agreement with all skate establishments that there is a requirement for neon paint on the walls, everything must be covered in industrial type carpet, and they somehow, someway, pipe in the smell.  I swear- it is identical everywhere- some nameless combination that could only be called “Scent of Skatehall”. 

By this point everyone’s laces are tied up (GG, clearly to cool for skates, goes inline) and I very wobbly stand up.  By the time I am almost vertical Belle is already on the floor, stomping her feet that resemble tree trunks as they are weighed down with almost- too-big-for-her skates, trying to gain some momentum.  Arms outstretched at her sides for balance, as if she is about to take flight any minute, she makes her way around the first curve.  But when I look at her, all I see is that smile.  The smile that says she is living in the moment- the moment that was created for her, by her.

I place one wheeled foot on the floor that I am positive in some cruel twist of fate was just waxed , and wonder why I was not asked to sign a waiver.   Like an entire hold harmless to any injuries you are about to subject your body to type of waiver.  Hoping all insurance coverage is up to date, I tentatively skate out and join the girls. Hmmm… I think…  I may actually remember how to do this….. and just like riding the proverbial bike within minutes I was coasting around the oval with a tense but genuine smile on my face.  Memories of couples skate, skating races and “shoot-the-duck” flood my consciousness, and when Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin” comes on the speakers I swear it is 1984. 

We stayed for a few hours and we all genuinely had a good time.  I loved seeing how the girls continued to get better with each turn of the rink as fear took a back seat to confidence.  While it was a day that was just for Belle, selfishly,  I will take some of the memories we created and combine them with previous ones from my youth.  Either way, it’s a good reminder to sometimes stop the to-dos and just skate on.