I was on the beach the other day, as a young boy, perhaps 5 or 6 years old arrived on the beach with his father. In his hand, the young boy held a small blue kite with a long blue and red ribbon tail, trailing behind him on the beach as he walked. The boy was bursting with excitement, filled with anticipation, happily skipping through the sand, eager to release the kite; to see it fly and disappear into the clouds, to see his hopes come true, I imagine it was a moment he had been looking forward to the whole drive down to the beach.
You could tell the boys impatience, as he jumped eagerly next to his father, who was carefully unraveling and preparing the kite for the young boy. Every moment waiting, seemed unbearably long, every moment took away from what the boy had been hoping for so badly. Even I could hardly wait for the moment, on his behalf. So, when the boy’s father finally released the kite into the wind, the boy squealed, filled with joy, excitement and awe. It was his kite, he would make it fly, it would soar, he would be successful. Even I had hoped, that due to the windy-ness of the day, the kite would soar into the wind immediately after being released, and I would get to see the sense of accomplishment on the boy’s face, I would feel the same joy and excitement for him.
But today, the wind was coming from all directions, and no matter how many times the boy and his father released the kite, inevitably, moments after taking off into the air, the kite would come crashing down. And still the boy kept trying, hoping, and wishing that each time, the outcome would be different; that the kite would take off and keep flying up into the clouds. The boy would try epic sprints across the beach, as fast as his little legs could carry him, trying to release the kite with speed, he even tried standing on his tippy toes in hopes of helping lift the kite higher into the air, and each time, still with the same bounce and excitement in his step, hoping that this was the time it would work.
What the boy did not understand yet, in his beautiful innocence and naivety, was that regardless of his efforts, his enthusiasm, his hopes, and his numerous trials, the circumstances and conditions were never going to be right, at least not right now, not in this moment. No matter how much time he gave it, or attempts at different approaches, it would not fly. And it was not because he had not tried hard enough, that boy loved his kite, he had tried everything, multiple times. that kite just was not meant to fly today. And it was something that he had to accept. Something that he had to come to understand, that it did not make him a failure, it did not mean he had not tried hard enough, it just was not his time, not today. He would have to trust that his time would come.
And so, the father and his son left the beach, they would try again another time.
What does this story make you think about? What aspects of your life did it bring up for you? What moments could you relate to it? (Leave me a comment below and let me know! Would love to hear your thoughts and invite you to be vulnerable.)
I wrote this in a moment of deep disappointment, grief and loss over a relationship. Having maintained high hopes for an outcome, feeling like I had poured everything I had into making my own kite fly, every effort, everything in my power to make it go where I wanted it to. Only to realize some important things in my “failed attempt”, that there are the things I can control in life, and the things that I cannot, and must accept. I can only control the choices I make, how much time to invest, how much more effort to put in, what to build my kite with, if you will and that I cannot control the other aspects of life, like other people, life circumstances, timing of life, or which direction the wind will blow and how the kite will fly. And that I must find acceptance in that, or I will not have peace.
I will try and try and try, and feel like I have failed, or even worse, that I am a failure. But this is not the truth, knowing what is within my control is just as important as knowing what is not. And with this understanding, comes a sense of relief and acceptance. There are times to take accountability and responsibility for things that happen, and there is a time to sit in difficult, heart-wrenching moments of grief, loss and sadness, and let them pass… trying not to blame myself for things not working out, and trusting that my time will come, that things are as they need to be, and all will work out as it should.
“There are things that we don’t want to happen, but have to accept.
Things we don’t want to know, but have to learn.
and people we can’t live without, but have to let go.”
