Let Yourself Loose

Driving on the highway in our little old Honda (the one with no air conditioning), I roll down every window and open the sunroof.  The little girls in the backseat shriek with laughter as the wind makes their hair fly all around them.  We drive faster.  I remember that April morning in 2010 when we let our hands fly in the wind in this same car. 

Live with Flair became my patient teacher back then; I had to learn to really live and, as Thoreau insisted, to “live deep and suck all the marrow out of life.”  That was over a year ago now.

So I’m driving in my Honda at the same steering wheel I held in my hands before a wedding ring, a baby’s finger, or any deep wrinkles set into my skin.  The children ask me to take my hair down.  I slide the elastic band out of my hair, unravel all of it, and let it loose.  It rises up and circles above my head.  I can’t even see the road for a minute.

That’s what it’s like to cast off restraint and just surrender.  It might seem like a tangled mess and you won’t be able to see where you are going.  But you’ll be laughing.  It won’t matter where you end up because the journey matters more.

My friend, the one who told me I was the perfect mother for my particular children said that she sometimes feels like a racehorse that just needs to be let loose to run and do the thing she was made to do.  I think of that picture on so many days.  Something holds us back.  I imagine the gate opening for us today and great beautiful horses released to run. 

Living with flair means you let yourself loose. 

___________________
Journal:  What’s holding you back? 

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  1. Heather…you bless me in so many ways. Your flairs always bless and inspire me to live more fully every moment…YOU are a rock star! XOXOX

  3. Last night, I said to my 7-year-old, “You are the best daughter.”

    “All the moms say that to their children,” she replies. “And I know why. God matches moms and kids perfectly.”

    You are your daughters are certainly no exception. It reminds me that I am raising my daughters, and they are raising me.

    Crystal

  4. @Crystal, – wow! Perceptive daughter! Love this post – let's just run OUR race or as I think of it:
    “Let him run, Ronnie! Let Secretariat RUN!” – Belmont Stakes, 1973; won going away by 31 lengths. Every time I watch that race I get goose bumps, not only from the majesty of that fabulous horse but also the team who took the time to train him HIS way – paying attention to what he needed to show his flair and not necessarily conventional wisdom.