It was so dark at 6am when I went for my run this morning. I’d forgotten that most of the year I run in darkness after having my bright morning jogs over summer. It’s a subtle but constant reminder of the passing of time. Doing something at the same time, every second day, all year round, gives you a front row seat to the changing world around you.
Most of the time it feels like the days play out before us on fast forward. When I was 23, an older colleague at the time lamented that time only moves quicker with age. It's enviable. I agree of course but I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps it’s because of our sensible adult routines that consequently have us living the same day over and over again.
We go through phases where every day feels the same. It's only on reflection that we can see that things are always shifting slightly one way or another. I used to be all daycare drop offs and school pick ups but now Matt rides with the kids to school every day while I go to work.
Coincidently Frank was reflecting on being ten years old yesterday afternoon. He’d just gone to the dentist and half of his jaw was tingling with pins and needles as the anaesthetic wore off. He was squeezed up under my arm on the couch talking about how surprised he was that he was ten. It was like it had just dawned on him, some 2 months after his birthday. Frank is a very sentimental kid, he always has been and often these types of conversations have an undertone of longing from when his life was easier (kinder was his favourite year).
It's not that he doesn’t want to get older but it's more that getting older is hard so he likes to remember his carefree (pre-covid) days at Kinder. It can be hard to explain to a ten year old that you have to do the hard stuff to get to the good stuff on the other side. He’s still looking for the easiest route. The path of least resistance. He’ll grow out of this over time. I’m even seeing glimpses of it now.
Frank has decided that he wants to be a chef when he grows up. The kids have always helped as much as we could tolerate in the kitchen and Matt loves cooking so it's no wonder that he is naturally drawn there. He has always pawed over our many cook books and cooking shows are pretty much the only content on YouTube the kids are allowed to watch.
Recently he saved up to buy a Hibachi Grill with his own money. A Hibachi Grill is a traditional, compact Japanese charcoal brazier ("fire bowl") designed for high-temperature grilling of meat. Last week the grill arrived and with the help of Matt he made us steak sandwiches for dinner and now wants to grill anything he can find.
It’s fun encouraging your kids' interests. Even if this is just a phase, it's an opportunity to step out of routine and make room for something new which I believe is what we need to be doing to make sure our days don’t get stuck on repeat. It‘s so easy to find a good routine and stick to it. Deliberately creating change often feels dangerous. Reality is, mostly we don’t have a choice.
The kids are constantly evolving and changing in front of us. Friendships go in and out of seasons as people live their lives. Roles and responsibilities are tweaked in work places. Our bodies get older and start demanding more care and attention. If we don’t pay close attention, it can feel like we’re living the same day over and over again.
This year I’ve decided to be more proactive in how I spend my time. Giving myself the project of becoming a professional speaker means that I’m creating change with purpose. This week I quietly stepped down from the board of Ballarat Business Women taking at least one responsibility off my plate making room for new endeavours. There was also an awesome group of ladies at the AGM this week that will be able to contribute way more to the board than I currently could.
The featureless start to my run this morning turned into an amazing morning sky as the sun ignited the horizon. At sunrise, I was at the top of the hill with a magical view of Ballarat waking up. While I’ll miss the safety of daylight running, I get these amazing transitional moments that are far more inspiring than knowing exactly what lies ahead.
Running in the dark turns out to be a pretty great analogy for what we’re all doing anyway.
