Stretch

Whether I want to admit it or not, my body is aging. I mean, I’m in pretty good shape for an almost 45 year old, my body will still carry me for miles and allow me to run, jump and swim. But, some days things just hurt. It’s weird and upsetting. Like, when did tight hips become a thing? The truth is, most of the time, all I need to do is stretch.

And you know what I put off? Stretching.

In all of my youthful athletic days, stretching was part of the routine, but also seemed a bit frivolous. I did it with my teammates because our coach made us and we would count in unison, but own my own? Completely unnecessary.

I know how to stretch. I’m actually pretty flexible (possibly a hold over from my days as a gymnast). And when I do take the time to stretch it feels good, even if oddly painful. But it requires time. And attention. And intention. It is slowing down to do something completely self-focused and self-gratifying.

Stretching requires me to act in a way that pulls me out of my norms. A good for me aberration.

I’ve been in my current job for a little over a year. It’s not a position I sought out, rather one I fell into through a series of circumstances I never saw coming. In the past year when people have asked me what I do, I’ve rambled off a vague answer with a few fancy words tossed in, because the year was full of a lot of discovery and growing for both myself and the company. It was hard to define. As I met with corporate leadership to discuss what this next year might look like, one question surged to the surface:

What do you want to do?

Huhhhhh

Really, what gets you excited? What do you love to do?

Oh boy… ummmmm

I stammered out a few sentences. I shared answers that were true - to an extent. And I picked some projects that I do enjoy.

But I skirted the question.

In my life, “what do you want to do?” has not been the question asked; the question guiding me. I was stumped. And I wrestled with the question long after the meeting ended.

A few weeks later, at another touch point, the question resurfaced. This time I had an answer. The truth: I’m not 100% positive which aspects of the corporate world I love, but I do know I love to grow.

When I reflected back on the job(s) I truly loved the most, it was when I was given chances and opportunities to learn and grow. To stretch myself, even when it was uncomfortable and awkward. The growth meant slowing down to give myself time and room to be intentional. I had to think about it. I had to work hard, learn new things and then apply those newly honed skills with veiled confidence and assured fumbles. The wisdom someone once shared was that you were guaranteed to fail or fall from time to time, but at least if you’re growing you’re likely failing forward.

My hips were extra tight this morning as Buddy and I walked to find the sunrise. With each step I thought, “man, I need to stretch.” Like, I really do. Ooof, this aging thing. Then the view caught my eye. I became completely enamored with what I saw ahead. The bay was gorgeous. The water looked liked like liquid Mercury; silky smooth, thick, deeply reflective. It was both completely still and undeniably alive. Breathtaking.

Buddy and I made our way to the end of the dock and I sat down next to him. The reality of my tight hips snapping back into focus. It was then that it hit me. The truth I recognized was that we need to stretch. Physically and personally. Stretching is good for us. Not the kind that ends in stretching yourself too thin - that’s an essay for another day. But stretching that loosens us and grows us. Stretching that is sometimes uncomfortable. It is a thing that always results in a fuller version of ourselves.