Screw January…September is The New Year Now.
It’s quiet here now.
Earlier this evening, my five year old bounced into bed with excitement for her first day of grade one tomorrow. My two older girls, (entering grade five, and grade seven) had a hard time getting to sleep. More pressure, more anxiety to fit in, and of course the great wonder of which class they will be unceremoniously placed in – leading to an evening discussion of either animated joy, or saddened wonderment as to why they weren’t among the “chosen”.
I’m in two camps. I love September. It’s the new January. Fresh starts, new goals, more structure. And I loathe it. September and its endless schedules, its pressure-filled mind numbing routine, and the packing of so many damn lunches.
Sometimes I dream of throwing in the towel, selling everything and heading out with the family in an RV. Travelling, exploring and taking the time to experience the vastness that is this land. And then I think about my childhood, rooted in familiarity, tradition, a life based on knowing what was coming next.
It’s a trade off.
I’m certain the world is heading into a sea of tumultuous weather, and the new way of living is about adapting, and adjusting to the latest update, or the newest bit of research. The cliche ‘change is the only constant’ has never been more true.
I wonder how this new world will shape my kids. The internet and its endless supply of information and connectivity. Employers seeking people that have skills with infinite specificity. And the pressure to be ‘perfect’ in an era filled with no remorse for a misplaced text, or seemingly harmless, ill-chosen snapchat post.
For now, I’ll keep trying. Trying to find a path that works. And when I can, I’ll help my kids choose the road that leads them to a challenge, or a spark that gets them up in the morning.
And I realize, this is not just for them. I need to find that spark for me too. I need to be more than just a taxi to their activities, or their constant source of ready made food that suits their picky palates and smug faced sense of entitlement.
They look to me for guidance, and when I show them what it means to be passionate about my work, or my workouts, or the latest book I am reading – they mirror those actions with ease. They sense there is something going on that is bigger than the space that fills the distance between their faces and their iPad screens.
So, hello September. I’m going to grab you by the fiery tail of summer, and slay you with my need to do something that fills me with joy. And by doing so, I am going to be the greatest teacher in my kids’ life.
Grade one, Grade seven, mid-life – it doesn’t matter your age, because everyday holds the opportunity to do something that will move the needle forward for you, and possibly those closest to you.
BRING IT SEPTEMBER!
Happy Slice Everyone