Standing in the Hall
When I was a kid, my room was my sanctuary. No boys allowed. I drew pictures, posted signs, and did what I could to make that abundantly clear. My brothers, occasional literalists, came close to observing the letter of the law, but never the spirit.
They stood just outside the door’s threshold and dipped their toe into my room.
I’m in. I’m out.
I’m in, I’m in, I’m in. I’m out.
When they got brave, they jumped in, whole bodies piercing the forbidden zone. And then quickly out. And in again. And out.
It makes me laugh now, but it made me furious then. When my brothers entered the room, it was only for a brief moment, yet it was enough to set me off. Still, it’s not like they were all in.
For the past few months, I’ve been dipping my toe into my life’s rooms. There are lots of exciting, promising, and fun spaces I have the opportunity to enter; and there are an equal number of spaces that pose some daunting challenges, some rearranging of furniture and even some disposal of junk.
Rather than walking through the door and owning the room, I’ve been jumping in and out. I haven’t been all in.
I’m not sure what this means to my family, friends, colleagues. If anything. I don’t know how I show up in the world, through their eyes. But I do know that living tentatively feels like standing in the hall.
I made the decision to pick a room and move in. Including owning my training. A couple of weeks ago, I said I made the decision to run the Austin half in February, but that I probably wouldn’t register for the race for another month or more. That’s not really playing all in. This week, training started. And I registered. I’m in.
More Than Running... 
Yay!
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Jill
November 30, 2012