It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing...
September. It's a good month. A month of beginning. A month where life swerves from sunny to crisp. When school begins. Not just for kids. For all of us. Because we never really graduate, do we? No. We are always learning lessons, learning life. We are always working hard, studying stuff, aspiring for those A's.
This summer, the big girls and I took Little Girl to the playground for her first swing. I threaded her toes through those holes in the black rubber seat. I rested her arms over the front. And then we pushed. We all pushed. And she went back and forth, up and down. And she smiled. Goodness did she smile.
And so I've been thinking about swings. About what a wonderful metaphor this is. Isn't life really about swinging? Between Past and Present. Between Then and When. Between Now and Later. Isn't life about sitting there, here, dangling dancing feet? Sometimes, we need that push. Sometimes, we are strong and secure and can pump our own legs. And fly high.
But, on life's swing, isn't it so hard to be still? Even when there is no one to push us, even when we do not hurl ourselves forward, the swing shimmies. Maybe this should be our goal, our quiet aim - to find some stillness. To stop. To quell our compulsion to move. We need not always move.
And on this swing that is life, do we ever go anywhere new? Or are we tethered, chained to that big bar above, that bar of who it is we are? Or is this maybe the greatest gift of all, to be anchored to people, to places, to purposes, to who it is we've come to be?
So much to ponder as we all swing into September.
Are you fond of September? How do you like the swing metaphor? Do you think it's tough to find stillness in the context of modern life?