Pete and Repeat sat on a wall. Pete fell off. Who was left? Repeat.
Pete and Repeat sat on a wall…
Do you remember that joke from when you were a kid? The one that never ended until something finally gave and there was some kind of forced interjection? “Enough already! Let’s go jump rope!”
Did you ever imagine it would be such a foreshadowing of what life can be like as humans humaning? That it could draw such parallels to our very existence?!
On the one hand, we have déjà vu. That eerie sense that some specific thing has happened before while experiencing it for the first time. On the other, we have patterns. Where, perhaps, that exact thing has in fact, happened before. Or maybe not exactly, but very very close. A Repeat, if you will.
A month before my beloved dog passed away, it seemed like it was her time. She was very ill, unable to leave the vet for more than just a few hours overnight. Before I was due to bring her back, I took her to her favorite spot at the beach where the coast goes on for miles and the jetties, jutting treasure troves of mystery, intersperse the long stretches of sand. I watched with tears in my eyes as she poked around the crevices of the rocks and the little puddle clearings the waves left behind. Like she did ever since she was a puppy, only muted a bit with the slowness of age and her condition. I reflected on the countless times we’d done this. The joy it always brought. And the way our little family formed and then grew around moments just like this. Knowing in my heavy heart this might be the last.
But, then, she made a miraculous recovery. Overcome with gratitude, I swore I would never take another moment with her for granted. Life is fragile and fleeting and we must savor it.
Of course, you can probably guess how this story plays out…
I took the entire next month for granted. Completely consumed with an ongoing work saga that was both quite meaningful to those involved and also, in the grand scheme of our existence, not meaningful at all.
In my heart, I knew this was not the way I wanted to be. I longed to clear space and create room. To be present and enjoy the blessings I’ve been bestowed. Not just my sweet Julie, the rest of my family, my health and so much more. To lean into my inner artist and my creativity where I am more aligned and in tune with what matters most to me. I bought my website for Some Days amidst the painful dissonance as a first definitive step towards this intention…
…Just a few hours before my precious Julie heart-wrenchingly passed in the night. There were signs that evening, but I missed them. It wasn’t until I heard her other-worldly howl that I understood. And by the time I reached for her, the life had left her body. I didn’t stop crying for days. I still cry.
After that, I swore through my agony and regret that I would never waste another precious moment again.
Of course, you can probably guess how this story plays out…
I waste precious moments all the time.
Even as I try to integrate my compounding learnings, I come up short.
I take for granted that there will be more days. I miss the fact that these moments are passing me by. Never to return again. I miss the moments I swear to myself I will never miss. I have experiences that shake me awake. Learnings I layer on learnings. And then…Repeat.
I see the pattern. Plain as day.
But, noticing is only the first step. If we want to live an intentional, empowered existence that is in alignment with our dreams, our values and our highest selves, we have to notice and then see the patterns as a sign. Or an invitation. To explore.
What might we want to do differently? Are we happy for the pattern to keep playing out this way?
Some patterns, perhaps we are. I have a pattern of my biggest leaps being my biggest turning points. The risks I’ve taken that feel the most outrageous in the moment are the things that have made all the difference. I hope that pattern continues to play out and that I continue to find and trust my knowing and my bravery to make those leaps and take those risks.
But, it is also true that there are patterns I don’t wish to repeat. We all have them. Those are the ones I believe come up for us to prompt reflection and consideration.
My son’s music class sings this song “An ostinato is a pattern that repeats” (which, spoiler alert, repeats over and over for forever).
How do we want to change the tune? And what is in our power to change? What is underlying this pattern? And what else might be possible?
I have been thinking a lot about the equinox this past Tuesday – spring on my side of the equator – and the idea that comes with it: that we can always begin anew. At any time. Not just in springtime. We always have an opportunity to start fresh. Embrace renewal and rebirth. To reawaken our inspiration and our commitment, our dreams and our desires, and begin again.
I have also been thinking about the fact that spring happens every year. A pattern of its own… Yet, we are not coming to this place exactly the same as the year before. The landscape changes. The roots deepen. The branches mature. There is an evolution that can happen in between that makes the cycle more like a spiral staircase than a tilt-a-whirl. And, the beautiful thing is, this Repeat is not daunting or constraining. It is hopeful. It exudes possibility. Every year, there is this universal reminder to refresh. Maybe, in some ways, that is what all patterns are. Benevolent reminders.
So… Remember.