This song is amazing. Not just because it finally taught me how to say rhododendron
but because it epitomizes the way I hope to live my life. Transforming and changing.
The opening lyrics say ‘oh my heart is bold as brass, roll it out like summer grass’. Think about that… your heart being bold as brass. What does it mean to you? To me it means daring to put yourself out there. Striving for those things inside you that make your heart skip a beat when you picture them being a reality. The things that make you a little queasy when you consider what it would take to make them so. The dreams you dare not speak about to anyone but in the privacy of your head you think ‘my God, what if?’.
What could I be if I was the master designer of my own life?
I don’t always know the answer to that question. I think it changes with time. Much like everything else, dreams don’t seem to stay the same. Maybe it’s because we change to become the person we wanted to be and those ideas just don’t seem so big anymore. The closer we get to fulfilling the role we wanted to be, the further out our vision needs to adjust.
Life does change. Of this I’m certain. Circumstances, locations, friendships, jobs. They evolve. Not always for the better, not always for the worse. I’m reminded of the words I tell Emma before she tries a new food… ‘different doesn’t always have to be bad, it can just be different’.
With that sentiment (and a nudge from life), I choose to do something different with my life. With shaky hands and a nervous stomach, I leave the nest of bus driving and KPS. I’ll miss the people I work with and the insane things that come into play when you work with a bunch of kids and the mystery of being a substitute driver. It makes me sad to think I’ve outgrown my time there because I love the people I’ve worked with. Like your crazy uncle that’s stranger than anybody you’ve ever met, the drivers I know are somehow both loving and tough at the same time. Individual but similar people who truly prove it takes a certain type of person to drive a bus load of kids.
It scares me to quit. To try something else, something I might very well fail at. It’s terrifying. But I hope someday when my kids are grown, when I’m old and gray, they’ll be willing to put it all on the line sometimes. To dare to dream and even more importantly, dare to try. To be courageous, not just in the obvious decisions of life but the more subtle ones. The ones that could easily slip by unnoticed. I so desperately hope that at the end of my life, my children see that I tried to be in my own way, until my transformation was complete.
just you keep it coming
a feeling I ain’t ever felt before
the way my heart is drumming
well, caution goes flying right out the door