|Aug. 9, 2011. Ben was still more than 3 months from turning 2, but jumping didn't scare him.|
Five minutes starts now.
My life is punctuated with more dashes, commas and periods than exclamation points. I just don't literally jump around much. I don't like to be the center of attention, cause potential embarrassment to myself, or dance.
That doesn't mean I don't feel joy.
I remember when I was a kid negotiating with myself after whether I'd go off the high dive. I was like a fish, but I was a little nervous about the free fall from way up there.
I did. And I did it again and again. Summer after summer. I even bungy jumped while tethered to my husband many years later after I convinced myself to go up that ladder to the high dive. Sometimes joy is like that. It comes after some persuasion and choices.
Now I watch my kids, especially my boy, jump right in to the water. And life. They don't have fear like I did when I was their age. And that makes me want to jump.
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