I mentioned the tadpoles waiting around the perimeter of my brother’s lake yesterday.  Without exaggeration, there were easily 10,000 of them, if not more.  There were piles of them all around, in puddles, in the deeper portions, in the little pools on the man-made beach, hiding in the cat-tails—they were EVERYWHERE. Naturally I take that as a sign.  I’m sure a few of you know a tadpole is a sign of transition and change.  That certainly felt appropriate to see them as we gathered together.  The entire family is going through transition.  The truth is my parents are aging and passing the torch, my siblings and I are now holding the reins so to speak, and now our children are old enough to begin exploring on their own and trusting themselves to find who they are.  I never realized how hard that was to witness.  I never realized the strength my parents had enduring the family and the business and making decisions—things they always seemed so assured of but they probably didn’t have a clue.  I never realized how much strength it takes to let go and trust your kids. 

There is not a second that goes by that I don’t think about how quickly my son has grown up.  How he has gone from a baby needing constant protection to this little boy, pushing every limit, learning who he is, and boldly stepping into himself.  I know I was never that brave.  I talked a lot, but I always stayed on the edge, never wanting to get in too deep.  My kid has no fear of diving in without even knowing how to swim.  He’s been that way forever.  He pulled himself up to walk at 6 months old and mastered walking by 8 or 9 months.  I’ve felt the same way with everything he’s done: super proud and in awe but also terrified.  Now I feel like I blinked and he’s already telling me he has no need of my assistance.  I honestly didn’t want that for him.  I spent my childhood trying to prove I could do things so I could keep up, I wanted to grow up so fast.  I wanted my kid to have the chance to be who he is.  But I’ve realized that this is who he is: bold, fearless in some regards, and ready to take on what he wants. 

It’s also interesting having that revelation on growth and being ready to take on different things, because frogs have to demonstrate focus to move between water and land—they are designed for both environments.  They are ready to jump or swim as needed, and that requires intuition.  My son knew he was ready and I hesitated because we didn’t have the proper safety equipment with us.  But he knew, and he pushed himself enough to go where he felt comfortable.  When I saw that, I knew it was time for me to let go, and rather than protect him, let him discover his own abilities and trust that intuition more.  I was afraid of him feeling the pressure of growing up too fast, I never considered he had a say in that timing as well.  I never want to hinder who he is, I want him to know he can trust himself.  So, for now, my job isn’t to protect him, it’s to let him explore and discover what he can do, fall a little bit and learn to pick himself up, and to feel what life has to offer.  We don’t learn until we push that edge.  It isn’t up to me to stop him, it’s up to me to allow that expansion—and maybe learn it for myself.

Trusting our kids, watching time pass, all of it, it’s about trusting ourselves as well.  It’s knowing we’ve done our best and that it’s ok to move on when the time comes.  We can’t hold onto the past or will ourselves into the future.  All we have is now and each of us is at a different place on that journey.  Sometimes we come together and we have some lessons to learn, and then we go our different ways.  We have to trust that we have learned enough from each other and that we have the ability to do things on our own.  Know that we have done our best and that we were brought to these places for a reason.  We were brought where we need to be for a reason.  Enjoy the moments.  Feel the sun, the water, the air, the Earth.  Make those memories and know it’s enough.  Know we can make the leap when we need to or we can dive in when we need to—be like the frog.