Come on brother

“my turn my turn my turn!”
A squirm and push and up again, his turn to fly again.
Perfect balance on squishy sofa, eyes alight smile dancing.
“One two three”
From encouraging mum and child leaps out again.
A bed of cushions on floor cushioning the small fall.
“Well done well done!”
“again again!”
“It’s your brother’s turn.”

“come on brother your turn kwik”
And brother bigger climbs
Brother bigger smiles agog
Brother looks at mum and mum smiles back
Big brother doesn’t do jumping
Or high steps. Or uneven surfaces.

Yet no words needed as brother beams at mum
And falls from chair to knees to floor.
A bed of cushions on floor cushioning the smallest not fall.
“Well done well done!”
The cheers and laughter as loud for brother
Who hardly fell at all.

And yet did something MASSIVE.

🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

A long time ago I was introduced to “Challenge by Choice.” I could explain the details – but let me paint a picture …

One person spent 30 minutes in tears of frustration, tears of pain, tears of humiliation, and tears of joy. And it was all “okay” with us all.  The tear-filled and the un-teared.

That is “Challenge by Choice”.

This normal human-being complete with a normal and well-packed suitcase of normal life-baggage took out an intimate-fear in front of us all. This fear had been pressed and preened, nurtured and spoiled – it had been grown so perfectly (as we all do) – and now (as a fully fledged glass ceiling) was fully fruited.

This fear was now so extreme that just putting both feet – at the same time – on the first rung – of a small wooden ladder – was impossible.

So for thirty minutes this person looked and dithered.  Raised and lowered one foot. Tested the rung and backed away.  Cried and complained.  Fought and ran away. Fought again and ran away again.

All the while the tears came and the tears changed.

We were gifted being part of this intimate relationship – this secret baggage now on display – this “I can’t” … “I won’t” … this “I am not good enough.”

“i am not – i never will be – i am no good.” 

In less “intimate moments” we are dismissive (I am dismissive).  We refer to such trivial and self-centred indulgences as a “car crash” of a human being.  We (I) see the unravelling – the self imploding – of another human being as so unnecessary.

“If they weren’t such a baby, weren’t so spoiled, weren’t so used to an audience, weren’t dependent on others, weren’t so selfish, weren’t so … not good enough.”

There was no clock ticking that day. There was nothing other than that person challenging their own limitations.  And after thirty minutes – and with both feet on the bottom rung of a very small ladder – cheers rang out loud and long.  Tears flowed. Hugs shared.  Laughter pealed.  Well done the only words said.

🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

I learned something important that day.

Love is the answer

(way more than that other “intimate piece of baggage” I keep hidden)

My “religious selfie” .


2 thoughts on “Come on brother

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