I love this picture. Not because the subjects are two of my favorite people in the whole world. No, I love it because of what they are doing.
When was the last time you kicked your feet into the sky? When was the last time you felt no limits? When was the last time your joy came from stretching yourself into the unknown?
If my husband could have captured the shot as I asked, you'd find me seated in the swing next to her--trying my best to keep up. A silly picture, I know, maybe it's best he didn't get a good one, but I was trying nevertheless.
It's been years since I've been on a swing. I wasn't sure I'd even be able to do it without puking my guts across the playground sand. But I held on and tipped my head back and enjoyed the rush.
Today I get that similar sensation from writing--a post here--a submission there. But the real rush comes when I stretch myself and write a book and then . . . actually submit it someplace. Out into the unknown. Into territory I haven't imagined since I was a child and dreaming about outer space as I played on the monkey bars or teeter-totters.
We can do little to stop our bodies from growing older. But we can keep our spirits and dreams as young as we please.
I'm planning on swinging as high as my legs can pump me. I might even flip the swing set over like my sisters and I used to do in our backyard.
Are you stretching yourself? Or are you leaning against the fence watching everyone else feel the joy?