Centered

My children and a young friend attempted to fly tonight. This endeavor called for sleeping bags and duct tape with many whispers behind a closed door.

I prayed for their confidence and safety and that I might leave them in peace to explore.



"At a kibbutz," my friend, David, tells me, "you grab a plate when you are hungry. And the food is hot."

"Where does it come from?" I ask.

"Many hands."



We swam in a wave pool today. "To the island!" said Sam, bobbing beside me in an orange lifevest. We swam back and forth, from one end to the other, me learning how to let go my muscles, to stop trying so hard. The twelfth lap in waves rising, I discovered moments of drift that rushed me forward effortlessly in time with the surge.



"We can have our rice in burritos for simplicity, or on a plate which would take more time to serve and clean up after. This choice impacts the amount of time that you will spend researching why children are not allowed in most public hot tubs before we get ready for bed. You decide."

"We'll have our rice in the burrito (right, Trin?)."

What does implicit leadership mean, to us all? I wondered.



"If we make an environmental club," said our young friend, "can I be the Queen?" Her query was countered by others in favor of partnership. Just a letterhead, she said she'd be content with -- if she might also be allowed to police in case someone wanted to destroy our club.

"I don't believe anyone would want to destroy our club. It sounds like you would enjoy really seeing your power in the world."

"It's not that," she told me. "But we might need police. Then we could make people take care of the environment."

"I would rather they do it out of choice and love," I told her. "How about you?"

"I see your point," she said.

Still, what makes us afraid of owning our need for power?



"I will slide by myself this time, Mama," Sam told me at the pool. "And I will wait for you at the bottom." After a moment's pause: "You promise?"

"Promise what?" I asked him. "You are the one waiting for me."

"Oh yeah," he said.


I am prime for adventure. I had no idea that partnership could feel like this. It is not adult centered. It is not child centered. It is simply centered, all spokes radiating outward and pulling us seamlessly forward.


Sometimes, dreams come true.


"I can fly without duct tape and blankets," I heard Sam say. "I can fly with just me."