Sometimes the simplest things are the hardest things for us adults, aren’t they?
I’ve found the older I get, the more complicated those things become. Shouldn’t it be opposite? Shouldn’t growing up and maturing mean getting better at this whole life thing?
But when I think about someone who is able to do all of those things well – trust, forgive, let go, accept, believe, relax…the first picture that comes to mind is that of a child.
To be more specific, I think of the kid that was a part of the family next to me at the public pool last summer (side-note: the public pool is a miserable experience past the age of 13). This little boy, probably six, embodied many of these words within just a few minutes.
It all started when he and his little brother, maybe four years old, were taking turns jumping off the side of the pool into their dad’s arms. And by “taking turns” I mean the younger brother kept taking his turn and cutting off Johny (yes, I just named the older one Johny because, well, that’s just a classic kid name and it felt right).