Letting go

She steps off the school bus and skips up to her mother to hold hands. It's a simple union. Fingers aren't interlocked or grasped tightly; just a comfortable mitten style of holding hands.


I smile and walk over to the pair. The mom smiles warmly back and the girl looks up and stares. I lean over to the little girl in her hand sewn summer dress, cup my hand over her ear and gently whisper 'If you could do anything you wanted, what would it be?'


And my eyes swell with utter surprise and joy by her response. 


She doesn't answer in words, I can just read it in her eyes. 'I would run. Really fast. I'd run and run and I'd just keep running.' And I can feel for the first time just how much this little girl loves the feeling of running fast. 


So I tell her to let go and run. She looks at me a bit confused, but I assure her I'll tell her mother it's okay and that I gave permission. She hesitates a second more, so I tell her to just run up the hill and back. So she does. And as she's running, I tell her mother she's fine. I tell her they both are.


The little girl returns- and man is she fast. And her body is now full of light. So I let her know how fun it was to watch her move. She smiles at me knowingly. I tell her she can run as fast and far as she'd like anytime. We look at each other like kindred spirits, both knowing just how far and fast she's capable of going- now given permission. 


And this morning on the last leg of my run, I smiled as I felt her light prance up behind me. 


'Let's race!'  she said.


'You're on!' I replied


So we ran. And man, this little five year old has got it in her. That desire of pure thrill to feel her feet moving on the earth and her face in the wind.


And I won. Or she did. Or maybe we tied. I can't really recall. What I do remember is the thrill of the sprint. Our bodies together, in full motion, pushing boundaries and openly taking it all in.