Tramp.

I have just spent two days (so far) trying to put my daughter's trampoline together. The biggest takeaway she got from being on her spectacular Australian vacation was that she wanted a trampoline just like my friend had in her backyard.

Ok, she liked the kangaroos too.

And another friend was kind enough to give one to me. 

Spectacular. 

She did have a few words of advice. "You'll need two people." 

I ignored that. 

Here has been my process so far: 

First I just put all the outer rings together, knowing it was upside down, and that I would have to flip it once finished. 

Easier said than done. 

That thing is huge.

Then I realized that it was not only upside down, but backwards. 

Shit. 

That was day one. 

The next morning, I took it apart and tried it again. 

Somehow, the pieces were not fitting together well, so I took all the supports off to try to puzzle it (i.e.- force it) together. 

Big mistake. 

Hammer, twist, turn, curse, hammer some more, take apart again- and more cursing. 

I finally stepped back and realized that there was a pattern to it. Long piece, connector, short piece, long connector, etc. 

Dumb ass. 

A couple more hours of twisting, hammering, starting over- a spectacular display of cursing. 

Finally, the pattern worked, and I now have a perfect circle. 

Just the springs and the jumpy thing to go.

But I was sweating like a pig- and cranky- and very very smelly. 

I intentionally went and took a shower and put on my pj's. 

The rest will come easy tomorrow. 

Yeah- right. 

Once again, this tramp becomes a metaphor for life and relationships. 

Brilliant. 

In my life, I generally try to do everything at once- and by myself if I can. 

And I have also mostly tended to ignore even the wisest words of advice. 

And I also tend not to read instructions very well. I dive in usually with both feet, and put whatever it is together. If it doesn't fit, i hammer, and twist and curse, and hammer some more. 

And I usually try to finish whatever it is up to its conclusion all at once.  

And it usually takes me a good long while to realize that there is generally a pattern. And that unless you have the right pattern, things won't fit exactly like they should. They may hammer together, but ultimately, they won't make the perfect circle that you are striving for. 

My relationships have been similar- both the long and short ones. 

I dive in with both feet- try to hammer it together- ignore the wise advice of friends and family- and take a while to realize that there is generally a pattern. 

Sometimes the pieces are too long, or too short- or the springs don't fit. And all the hammering, twisting and cursing in the world won't fix it. 

Sometimes the pattern is all mine. 

Sometimes it isn't. 

And sometimes the pattern emerges as the relationship progresses- or doesn't. 

And sometimes the perfect circle you are striving for will never be there. 

And sometimes it's just best to go inside and put on your pj's. 

Paying attention to simple things.

I'm halfway around the world.

Amazing to be here, and I feel so lucky to be traveling with my daughter and father, and visiting my friend/college roommate and her family. It's been way too long.

I was told before I left to pay attention to the simple things while I'm here. It's easy to be overwhelmed by the big- sights, sounds, adventures. Harder to pay attention to the smaller experiences.

But I have been.

Like watching my daughter and her grandpa chatting and laughing together while she jumps on the trampoline.

And seeing beautiful colors of the fruit and veggies at the central market.

And the feeling the softness inside a kangaroo's pouch.

And listening to the sea while walking with my friend and her not so tiny puppy.

And the smell of a freshly brewed cup of fru-fru coffee.

And hearing the cool cadence of the oh so kind australians.

And chatting about old times, and new- and generally just goofing off.

And paying attention to my heart- and realizing that I'm finding myself on the other side of a really challenging summer.

It has been great- and so short- but just right all the same.

I'm so thankful to have had this time with my family and my friend and her family.

I wouldn't change a minute of this experience.

It has been so simple.

And I've been paying attention.

GPS.

GPS

I use it a lot when I'm home, and it's great.

But I'm visiting my family in my hometown this week, and I know this place.

It's not that complicated- a couple of highways, streets that make sense, follow the sea. I know it like the back of my hand.

But I've gotten lost twice so far. Stubbornly refusing to use the GPS handily provided to me by my IPhone.

I can find my way- no sweat.

Left here- right there- through the orchards, past the farmlands.

What the fuck?

Nine miles astray and I succumb to the GPS.

A little deflated that I need assistance. And pissed that my intuition is wrong.

I don't need the GPS for the whole trip- just to get me back on track.

Now I'm golden.

Careening, once again, down the life's lesson highway- I realize that these two experiences are a metaphor for where I am right now.

I falsely believe that my intuition (solely) can guide me, and that I will find the right path.

But I'm wrong. And I'm a little deflated and pissed about it.

I need GPS to get me on the right path. *sigh*

Friends, family, good reads, my therapist, other guides, and sometimes complete strangers are here to help to guide me in the right direction.

And I need to stop fighting against it, and embrace the sometimes not so subtle nudges.

Left here- right there- through the orchards and past the farmlands- follow the sea.

To wherever it is this life I am intended to be.

Yes- as much as I hate to admit it-

I need the GPS.