To Lean or Not to Lean-is it even a choice?

As the bare-bummed Australian cowboy sauntered away from our table after wishing me a 'Happy Birthday Sweet Sharmon', I said to the group celebrating with me, 'For the record, The French picked the show, and I have no idea what is happening here', to which my girlfriend replied, reaching over to grab my hand, 'Girl - it looks like we're leaning in!'

Now, even though this happened just over a year ago (before Covid made the world weep and friends could still gallivant to Las Vegas for frivolous - and fabulous- birthday parties), it's interesting how much it comes up in my life. No no, not the Aussie cowboys with no pants (although... insert winky-smiley here), but the idea of embracing the moment for the moment. No strings attached, no preconceptions. Just letting the moment give you what it can. I think this stayed with me so steadfastly because the only other times I'd specifically heard the phrase, 'lean in', was in reference to women making themselves heard around the boardroom table (which, yes - an important strategy for professional success absolutely, but as a mother at home with -read; driving around- two wee people, I always found it a tad hard to relate to). This time, however, it was said for no other reason than the sake of enjoyment, and making the most out of the whole, ridiculous scene. And you know what? The show was ridiculous, and we all rolled our eyes and had the best-ever time!

So what if we employed a little lean in to our daily lives? Honestly, I feel like we don't even need a terribly steep angle...There are so many instances where I can (thankfully) say I've had the guts to lean in. Moving out from the safety of my parents' place.... agreeing to that first dinner with my now husband.... moving across the ocean with said now husband....Because let's face it, not all situations are rose coloured.... getting over our (sometimes cynical) preconceived ideas of how situations will play out isn't always easy, and in my ever increasing age, I've lived enough to learn that expectations are the root of all things disappointing. I can think of countless times where I've had a grouchy face because things weren't going to work out how I anticipated they would. If I'm completely honest - sometimes I still get a grouchy face when I hear plans have shifted. I think that's normal to a point- I mean, who doesn't love a good daydream (at least I tell myself that). But thankfully, I'm now able to quickly put my teenage pout away, and just bounce with it because more often than not, my experience comes down to how much I'm willing to get on board in that moment - versus having the moment tailor itself to me.

Putting yourself out there is scary. Painful even - no matter how weathered and wise we are. Encountering anything out of our own, personal ordinary is a lot of work, whether we're heading a big boardroom meeting, trying to make friends at school drop-off, starting a class for the first time, hosting a dinner party, going to a dinner party.... But as I try and reflect on uncomfortable situations from days gone by, I realize that my enjoyment really just played to the lowest common denominator in that situation. And, in my case, occasionally (or more often that I like to admit), that LCD was usually your's truly, and a skeptical attitude about how I anticipated things should/would go down.

When my family and I moved to Belgium for the second time I'm pretty sure I was more nervous than our Jacob (who was having to start a new class, in a new country, in a new language...). As we got ready to head out the door that first school morning, I remember falling into my husbands chest and lamenting, 'Dude, I don't know if I can do this. I feel too exhausted and haggard to make new friends. Being shiny and bright takes so much energy...' He just laughed and patted my head and said, 'you're shinier than you think' (I know-isn't he the dreamiest? 😊 ).

So, with my darling boy in the car, and butterflies in my tummy we rolled into the school parking lot - both Jacob and I looking longingly out the windows at the clusters of people easily chatting. With a deep breath of solidarity we took each other's hand and braved the long walk to the new school. Squeezing his hand while whispering, 'squeeze-squeeze' (our long-standing, private show of love and support), I looked down at my beautiful, sweet, scared boy. With tears in his eyes (and my heart breaking for him), he kept his gaze ahead and silently squeeze-squeezed my hand back. Then, slowly, wiping his tears with his free hand, he looked up at me with a watery smile and said, 'I'm the best Jacob you know' (I get teary even today thinking about it!). Exhaling for the first time that morning, we let each other go to discover what was in store for us. And guess what?? We both made friends that day.

Now, just as I am not responsible for other people's feelings (obviously, I am not recommending we set out to ruin people's day on purpose- be kind people! Like attracts like), I am responsible for my own, and for getting all that I can out of life's precious moments. You get what you give, as 'they' say. And, I don't know about you, but if I had the choice of leaning into hugs, kisses, and birthday wishes (from cowboys, or otherwise...), or a kick in the pants, and a seat on the sidelines with a snarky look on my face, I know which I'd choose...