The journey of one little word . . .

Possible . . . that was my word for last year. A word that ended up guiding me in a completely different way than I had expected. Ever.

I didn't just want to know about the possibilities, I wanted to believe them possible. But what I got was so much more.

In sharing my word last year I told the story of taking our son to an intensive two day camp to learn pole vaulting for the very first time (full story here). About how I wasn't seeing joy in his face, and that I could see his heart wasn't wholeheartedly into it, how it was hard and technical, and how there were no instantaneous results.

Our resilience, our souls, are so dependent on that realm of possible and so often we give up too easily. Because we don't see the joy, and because it's hard and yes at times it feels technical and because there are no instantaneous results. Often, there is nothing tangible to grasp, especially when faced with adversity. And in those times possible sometimes just feels impossible.

What I discovered was a whole new definition of possible. One that reminded me of just how strong I am and that I can still exist in possibility even in the midst of adversity. And that joy, and hope and faith, well they are all still capable of existing through it as well.

God helped show me a path to joy among the pain through the raising of monarch butterflies. I saw the possibilities of hope and beauty that can come from change...it helped me hang on to that mustard seed of faith that I so desperately needed.

I debated whether or not to share some of the details, but I think it's important in understanding the journey of that one little word . . . possible. Because it has come full circle starting with that two day camp.

Not quite 3 months after that camp my son came to me in the morning, after seeming to be perfectly fine the day before, and he had fallen extremely ill. He ran 104 temp (for nearly two weeks) and his hands were swollen and red and after 3 visits to two doctors within a week and many blood tests the doctor called on a Tuesday evening at 6 o'clock and told us to take him straight to the Children's hospital, she had called ahead and they were waiting for us. The doctor in the ER said she had never seen inflammation markers that high before. Needless to say we spent the night in the hospital, and while they ruled out many possibilities there was no definitive answer. Within a few weeks, and after a bone marrow biopsy to rule out yet one more thing, he was diagnosed with a systemic form of juvenile rheumatoid arthritis for which there is no cure. He was weak, had lost weight, and at one point he couldn't hold a cup to his mouth or open a water bottle. He missed 4 1/2 consecutive weeks of high school and was too sick to even get homework.

And then for the next few months we would battle even more issues, and weekly visits to the children's hospital for his infusions and blood work, more tests and a CT scan for a heart scare and MRI's, and then one last setback with a rare leg bleed in the compartments of his muscles that would put him back in hospital that last two days of school. It would be nearly 5 months before he was released to go back to any kind of physical activity and only two weeks before football started.

And through it all this is what I learned was possible from my son . . .

I learned that at 15 years old it is possible to possess humility and courage, he never complained. Not Ever. I learned that it's possible to always hold on to hope, he never lost it. I learned that it's possible to have an enormous amount of grit and determination because when I was unsure and afraid of all the possibilities, I saw my son believe them all possible. And this my friends, was what I had set out to accomplish with my word. I just didn't know this was how it would play out.

You see, not only was he able to get back to playing what he loves, but he worked really hard, with great purpose, and his heart was wholeheartedly into it, and yes it was really hard and no there were no instantaneous results. But his hard work had earned him back his starting position on JV, and at the end of his season he was brought up to varsity for the first (and only) playoff game, starting on kick off return. I wrote this at the end of my story, "That it's sometimes not until that last hour, that last stretch when we see the fruits of our hard work, a glimpse of our own greatness and of our possibilities." And it's taken on a whole new meaning.

At that camp, Coach Hood talked about three important parts to a successful jump. Run...plant...takeoff. They're important because they are the beginning of the jump, and he says that if the beginning is wrong, then the end can't be right. Which brings me, finally, to my word for this year...intentional with a side of simplicity. I want to be more intentional about my take off so that my landings are a little smoother. I want to be more intentional in my photography, and in writing more and in letting my passions drive more of my actions. I want to be more intentional with my time, and trying new things, and just with life in general.. I want to be more intentional about the things that are important to me, and yet I want to keep it as simple as possible.

What about you, have you chosen a word for this year?

Love, Kim


sharing with Little Things Thursday, Thursday's Favorite Things, Photo Art Friday

It. Is. Possible.

I never did get around to sharing my word last year...it was explore.

The year before...was discovery.

That year of discovery, of self, is what propelled me into exploring.

No I didn't go on any safari, or around the world trip, or climb Mt. Everest.

But I explored....I simply explored what was around me, what came before me, the

things that interested me. I wanted to be fearless in my exploring or at least attempt

the fearlessness of it. To not be afraid to do that which expressed the passion in my heart

whether it was photography, or not.

I wanted to be fearless not because of the destination in the exploring, but simply because of the journey.

I'm not sure how fearless I was, and I'm not sure I'm ready to let go of that word just yet.

But I did wade through 20 feet of seaweed to find a frog fish among who knows what else, and came

face to face (well almost) to a water moccasin, and stared down a stingray two feet in front of me.
I have pictures of all three.

This all leads me to my word this year....

I already had a good idea of what my word for this year would be, and I knew for sure

after we took my son to a camp last week.

We left the day after Christmas, bright and early, for Brownswood Texas in route for a pole vault camp.

This vole vaulting idea, which he has never done before, came into play when my husband found out that

the school record is only 9 feet. And after some discussion and encouragement, my son decided he would like to give it a try.

We arrived at the camp, and after a short video and introduction we followed my son to the gym

as he walked holding a pole in his hand for the very first time.

Run...plant...takeoff. We all listened as the coach talked about these three important parts to a successful jump and well, they probably apply to most things in life. In this gym, Coach Don Hood, said these things..."How do you become great? You work your tail off and pay attention. The most important part is the beginning, because if the beginning is wrong then the end can't be right. You can't be aggressive unless you are confident and you can't be confident unless you have done it 1000 times. Greatness comes at a high price. If you want to be great at something, it means you can't do everything."

He would know, he is now 80 and has coached world and Olympic champions.

  Start, curl, press . . . and toe, flat, jump was drilled over and over, a thousand times. I had no idea that this was such a very precise event. I don't think he did either. In fact I learned the pole vault is the most technical of all athletic events and the biggest obstacle is your mind as it goes against everything that is natural.

Running in a full on sprint, with a very long pole (a controlled run while holding a pole I might add), slamming planting said pole into a box while being propelled over a bar. Yes, there is definitely some physics at work here with kinetic and gravitational potential energy. To the observer pole vaulting may seem fairly simple, it's anything but simple. 

As the first day progressed (over 10 hours), I wasn't seeing joy in his face. I could see his heart wasn't wholeheartedly into it. It was hard, it was technical, and there were no instantaneous results. They wouldn't even jump over a bar until the end of the next day. 

We have taught our kids to stick with what they start, but as a parent it was hard to see him just go through the motions if he wasn't loving it. I wanted him to do it for himself, to want it for himself. If we had decided not to go back, we certainly wouldn't have been the first as they said a lot of them don't come back the next day. But we did go back, and I told my son that after that second day if it really wasn't his thing it was okay if he didn't want to continue it, at least he would've tried. But I did ask him a favor. I asked him since we were already there to make it the most important thing that day. To just see what would happen.

(Coach is in the background)

We took a lunch break. He was tired, his hands hurt and there was still some discussion about leaving early, but they still had not done the actual pole vaulting, the thing they were working so hard for. So back for more drills, and some more motivational coaching, and then it was time to put those new skills to the test. My son was unsure about clearing the pole, I was confident he would.

They set it up as a contest and there were about 8 or 9 of them, with my son being the only first time jumper.

They set the bar to 6 ft, and he cleared it with room to spare. It got progressively higher until they reached 8 ft. (photo below).

And do you see what I see, a smile, joy in his face as he cleared the 8 ft mark!!
(and he won the contest!)

The joy wasn't only in his face, but in my heart. Watching him try something new, something hard. It wouldn't have mattered to me if he didn't clear the pole, what mattered is that he didn't give up. What mattered is that he learned something. And I can say that after almost 20 hours in two days that I learned some things in the process too. Yes greatness comes at a high price and that's not only true of athletes, but in life in general. And as the coach reminded us all, if greatness was that easy we would all be great.

(Photo Friday is back! The theme was using our chosen word and represented in a photo)

I'm proud of my son for sticking with it even though he wasn't sure he enjoyed it. Sometimes when
we are learning hard things they aren't enjoyable. Watching my son reminded me that you don't know what you can do until you try and that you don't always see the results of your hard work right away. That it's sometimes not until that last hour, that last stretch when we see the fruits of our hard work, a glimpse of our own greatness and of our possibilities.

This year I don't just want to know about the possibilities, I want to believe them possible.

"What we can or cannot do, what we consider possible or impossible, is rarely
a function of our true capacity. It is more likely a function of our beliefs about who we are."
- Anthony Robbins 

Thank you for sticking to the end here,
Love, Kim
XO


Sharing with Photo Art Friday, Friday Photo Journal, One Word Blog Hop