New Doors

It’s the middle of summer, and, here in the South, the sun is high in the sky, stretching our days. Balmy mornings give in to late afternoon showers and the smell of freshly fallen rain on the summer grass.

In our home, The Greatest Kid On The Planet is contemplating a new adventure that is quickly approaching. It seems like only yesterday when I was writing about his first day of middle school, and, just a short time ago, we celebrated his last. He’s officially a high school freshman now, and I can barely type those words. Where did the years go? So many are asking this same question as our children begin preparing for what lies ahead, even while holding tightly to the quickly passing days of summer.

For so many of us, after a year marked by loss and uncertainty, life is slowly returning to normal, and we are heading into the second half of this year with a sense of relief and anticipation. But, for others of us, nothing is the same anymore. The new year brought about changes and challenges we weren’t anticipating much less prepared for, and we find ourselves feeling lost and wondering where to begin.

It’s a question I’ve heard from so many since the beginning of the year. How do you start over when everything looks different?

These are the things I have been pondering over the last several weeks as I’ve found myself doing something I’ve done before. I’m packing and purging. I’m wondering through my house putting things into boxes, some that will go with us and some that will go to charity and Goodwill and other places, and it all feels so familiar. I’ve done this many times before, and the last time wasn’t so many years ago.

If you’ve been following along throughout the years, then you know The Greatest Kid finds his passion on the football field and has since he was eight years old. His love for that game has never waned. It’s only grown along with him. He has a vision for himself in his mind, and it’s one he sees clearly, and it has taken us down many roads and to so many places. And it is that vision that is, again, leading us to a new place away from where we are now.

Now, as I wrap up and pack away the things I had placed around my home with such certainty, the only thing I am certain of is that change is inevitable. The years bring unexpected twists and turns that can throw us for a loop and, sometimes, leave us feeling without direction, trying to navigate through unforeseen territory.

It’s that unforeseen territory in the years ahead that I find myself contemplating now. It’s true we’re moving just a short distance up the road, but it might as well be a hundred miles for all of the familiarity we’re leaving behind. Or maybe it’s that sense of certainty that feels like it’s falling away. The Greatest Kid will still be close to friends and the things and people he knows and loves, but, for me, I find myself trying to form a new vision of a future that suddenly looks different again.

This, I find, is where so many of us lose our way. It’s a simple question with what should be an easy answer. What does the future look like? Yet, it’s anything but simple when everything has changed, when it means leaving behind everything we thought we knew about where we thought we were headed.

And this, so often, is where we get stuck. Life has taught us to be cautious. We overthink and over analyze, and we weigh the pros and cons, so much so that we shy away from anything that feels unfamiliar. Change isn’t something we welcome, much less embrace.

Perhaps, over time, we’ve lost something we started out with. For years, I’ve said the same thing to my kid. If you can see it, you can be it, you just have to believe it. I’ve repeated those words over and over at every chance I could get because I don’t want The Greatest Kid to ever give up on himself.

These are the things we say to our children because we want them to succeed and do great things and know they can accomplish whatever they desire. But as I’ve been pondering this next move and the years ahead, I’ve begun to wonder, how often do we take our own words to heart?

Do we find in ourselves the same courage, the same fearlessness, that we want so badly to impress upon our children? And do we talk to ourselves in the same way we encourage our aspiring youth? Or do we censor the things we say to ourselves?

Do we tell our children to dream big and reach for the stars and then chide ourselves for day dreaming? Do we encourage our kids to be all they can be and never settle for less and then tell ourselves to get our head out of the clouds?

Do we tell our children to believe in themselves and go for the gold and then tell ourselves to stop wishing, stop wanting, stop dreaming too big because the good stuff, the really big stuff, is only meant for other people?

Over the years, I’ve encouraged The Greatest Kid to believe in himself and to reach for his dreams even as I’ve felt the weight of anxiety tug at my own. And now here we are, and I’m watching him step into his future with a confidence and assuredness in what he wants and the vision he has for himself that I sometimes wish was contagious.

But even so, I know leaving behind what is familiar can be especially hard when you’re young. A short while ago, I wondered if he was ready, or if he was worried or afraid, or uncertain. But when I asked how he was feeling about all that lie ahead of us, The Greatest Kid looked at me and said, “Old keys can’t open new doors.”

Years ago, I wrote about how The Greatest Kid has spent his life playing a game of “catch me”. And, throughout the years, not much has changed. He is still reaching, still believing, and still running, and I am still standing on the sidelines watching in wonder and learning lessons from my kid.

Here in the South, the summer heat will continue for months to come until, finally, a shift in the wind and the weather will usher in a new season. But even now, it feels as if we are already counting down the days. We closed on our new home at the beginning of June, and I’ve been moving things slowly and will continue throughout what’s left of our summer break. The Greatest Kid is having one of the best vacations ever, filled with friends and fun and summer joy. But he has also been working hard. And in a matter of weeks, he will be back on the football field doing what he loves most, only he will be wearing the red and black of a new vision he has for his future, instead of the maroon and grey we thought he would wear.

And so it begins. A new adventure. I’ve learned over the years to stop planning too far ahead because the Universe knows far better than I do where we should be. And I’ve stopped wondering where we will wind up and, instead, have started asking the Universe where we should go next.

Maybe that, then, is the answer to our question. Maybe we aren’t supposed to stand still. Maybe the only way we can fail in our journey is to resist the twists and turns that suddenly change our direction and to ignore the roads that open up ahead of us. Maybe we’re supposed to keep moving, keep reaching, and keep running.

And maybe, sometimes, the place we thought we would stay is really just another step toward where we’re supposed to go.

There are days when I still wish I was more like my kid. I worry, and I wonder, and I hold my breath. And I pray. I pray a lot. But the one thing I do have is an unshakable faith and an unwavering belief that, if we have a vision for ourselves and our future, then the Universe will set us forward on the right path. And if we ever lose our way, our faith and our fortitude will get us back on track.

So, maybe, if we look around one day and find the future looks unfamiliar, then perhaps we should consider the possibility that the years ahead are meant to look different than what we had envisioned all along. And what we thought was an ending is actually a new beginning.

And, perhaps, the blank canvas before us is an opportunity to paint a new picture. Whether we are forced into the unexpected, or anxious for a fresh start, maybe it’s time to step away from what feels familiar and comfortable and safe. Perhaps it’s time to move in an entirely different direction, time to see a new vision, a new future, and a new path for ourselves.

Maybe it’s time to reinvent and to re envision, to be open to new possibilities and new adventures.

Maybe it’s time to open some new doors.

M.C. Greene

P.S. The Great Chase