Life has been messy lately. (Does always count as lately?)
Starting a yoga studio for kids has been very similar to having another baby. I had no idea how much work it would take for day to day survival, my own needs seem to come second at times, some days a shower feels like a luxury and other days I just want someone to acknowledge how much time and energy I pour into this new baby's life.
I want to quit, but then I get pulled back in while sitting at the front desk and a mom tells me "I am so glad you are here. This is the only thing my daughter feels successful at..."
Sitting at the front desk seemed an insignificant place to be as I heard words that blasted right into my heart. The world stopped for a minute as I was reminded of my original intention to be here, doing what I'm doing, sitting at this desk. I wonder if she knows the power her words have over me as she signs her daughter into class. My eyes prick with tears. It's like all the thank you's had been saved up for that one larger than life moment and suddenly I'm refueled.
Some days may consist of doing the the things I'd rather not do - accounting, database management, marketing contracts, payroll, paying bills - kind of like those days with a baby when you clean up more dirty diapers than thought humanly possible, wipe up throw-up, do the dishes and laundry multiple times only to find there is somehow still more to do and your hair still hasn't been brushed.
But my baby is growing, regardless of how less than glamorous it may seem at times and how many bad hair days I may have.
Growth is messy and painful. And there are days when I wonder why I try. I could have stayed on cruise control and not put my neck out there. That would have been so much easier. Staying home, playing with my kids, writing, reading, exercising, doing whatever I want.
But I've never been through something hard and regretted it, as annoying as that truth is. I've not liked going through it, but reaching the other side has always felt good.
The hard parts seem to make me reach and stretch and want to cuss, and sometimes want to quit, but then I get to that breaking point where I either break or ask for help.
That may be the toughest part of all - asking for help. When I humble myself, swallow my pride and ask for help I realize it's not about me. I see the faces of those who want to help and realize this baby means something to them too, and they also want to see her grow. I'm not alone.
And then I watch my husband support me and cook all of our meals, and my girls tell me how happy they are to see me do this and their eagerness to go to a class and to help.
And then another moment happens while I'm driving my daughter and her friends home and am asked:
"Miss Danielle, is this what making your dreams come true looks like?"
I want to slam on the breaks and shout:
"YES! This is exactly what it looks like. All the messy bits, the messy car, the running late to things, the stress, forgetting what kid needs to be where and at what time, the joy, the winging it, the elation, the feeling like I'm following my purpose, the fog, the good days, the fear that it's not good enough, the bad days, the complaints, the compliments, the feeling like I'll never get it done. It looks like all of this."
But instead I nod and reply with a simple "yes, and I wouldn't trade it for the world" and keep driving, hoping that whatever she feels inspired to try she will, no matter how big or small, because that inspiration is coming from a place of purpose.
While there may be pain in trying, out of pain there comes growth, which - as much as I don't want to admit it - brings a feeling of satisfaction. It's like that's what we are here to do - grow. And if growth brings me to satisfaction and resistance to it brings me regret, I think I'll choose growth, pain and all.
Satisfaction > Regret
Win or lose (the outcome doesn't really matter anyway), it's always worth a try.
Keep going, keep growing,