Driving home to our old house, when was beautiful out, or when we'd spent too much time in the car, or when everyone was punchy and hadn't had enough exercise... the kids used to hop out of the car on one end of the street and run the down the hill the rest of the way home.
My pictures from the car are blurry, but the blur actually captures that fresh air, fast energy bliss. Sometimes, it was a kick out of the car in an effort to shake a bad mood. Sometimes a bad mood followed when a little one wasn't big enough, or a certain big one was just too fast. But, it was always exhillerating and freeing, even just to watch. And it did tend to be joyful.
I love the way those sprints always knocked the kids into the present moment - racing the car, or racing each other, or just racing themselves, to earn a peaceful moment at home before the getting-home rituals began.
I could use you to knock me into the moment.
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