Before you departed, you asked if I would write for you, making you my muse for a moment. I said of course I would, such a task is easy.  You are a wonderful muse.

Writing you is as easy as writing me. In you, I see pieces of myself as well as her.

You’re:

Silly

Wild

Free, and

Spontaneous

Those characteristics, combined, creates a soul who jumps, feet together, into puddles, and into life. Two feet, failure is not an option, only a lesson.

I see you, as I remember myself, as I watched her do it. Tiny red rainboots, muddy dress, skinned knees, tangled hair from the warm wind and summer rain, running towards the end of the driveway where the depression from the tires have allowed the rainwater to collect.  Into this puddle we jump, red boots together, creating the biggest splash a 4 year old can muster.  Soaking, we turn our face to the rain and laugh from the depths of our belly.  We are alive in everything that we do.

It’s a beautiful existence, jumping in with both feet.

But sometimes you’ll feel failure. You might not stick the landing, as a result, the fall hurts that much more.  This reality, however, doesn’t change your form, it’s the same every time and in every avenue – two feet, tightly together…and jump.

Every landing that you stick is that much more fantastic in nature. For you, there is no score of 5/10. Those of us who jump like this are awarded no part marks for effort.  We stick the landing or we fall flat on our face.

Both are landings, both add value:  When executed perfectly, the high is outrageous and infectious.  But when we fail, well, our face is in the puddle and everyone seems to be watching for the splash.