knee deep in weeds

notes on living a life

super hero badasses

Gary called while I was at football practice last night. Basil and I had had a good walk and now I was sitting in my car reading. We had tried sitting on the field, watching the kids practice, but Basil did not like the clashing of helmets, the pushing and shoving and barked at the kids. He loves Cannon and I think he was worried about him. I had Brene Brown's new book with me. I am well schooled in the art of waiting for kids to get done with practice, so we headed to the car. 

"You have the wrong kind of Oregon in your blog post today," he says. "Or did you mean to write organ?" My heart dropped, shame rushed over me. I thought, oh crap, because for the very first time, in a moment of feeling so brave, I had posted the link on IG. What was I thinking? See, you really have no business doing this, I thought. I sat for several minutes, while huge, negative conversations went on in my head. I would go home, close the whole thing down and give up this nonsense. People were laughing at me I just know it. Rolling their eyes, thinking things like... she taught writing to children? Doesn't she ever proofread? I panicked, picked up my phone and tired to clean the whole mess up, and then suddenly Cannon was at the window, looking for his other water bottle.

He was sweaty and all smiles, his golden hair messed up from his helmet and love poured over me.  "Thanks for coming Grandma,"  he said as he reached in to pet the dog, then turned and rushed back to the field. 

I know he does not know he was my super hero last night. I know he does not know that the rest of the night was magical for me; that he helped me to understand it is not our mistakes or what we view as a failure that matters, but how we work to move beyond them that counts. That is where the real reward comes into play. I had read the words in Brown's book but I had to see them in action and practice with them with my own story for it all to sink in I guess. 

I settled down, read my book, walked the dog a bit more and watched him as he practiced; thinking how both of us are learning a little bit more about this game of football and a lot more about life. 

“People who wade into discomfort and vulnerability and tell the truth about their stories are the real badasses.” 
~ Brene Brown, Rising Strong