I have seen this image reshared many times over…
Everytime I do, I halt mid scroll. I pause for the longest time.
It hits a spot.
And when I say spot I mean a deep gushing wound sliced down to the core of my very soul.
Adulthood has come with a number of sobering features.
Im an advocate for maintaining that life is what you make of it. We choose the path we travel and we are in fact the masters of our own destiny. But in the reality of home ownership or renting, building a career, a family or both… and keeping some level of order to my responsibilities, at the days end there is little room for the wild inner child to have a space to play.
That girl in me would leap and then ask questions later. She would spend hours splashing at the beach or hanging out in nature or jumping in the car and drive until me heart called to a place to be.
She would dance into the deep of the night until my head swirled tipsy and my feet burned in satisfaction.
She would find ways to push barriers and take risks, all for the rush of adrenaline ~ even just for those few moments.
My dreams were big and wild.
They were dreams of adding nourishment to my soul and stamps on my passport.
I would laugh til I cried and cried til I laughed.
That girl peeks her head out every once in a while to remind me she’s here… patiently waiting for that opportunity to spring into action.
She gets it… she knows me well… and I know her too… and I respect that her wild heart needs room to roar…
And roar she will…