I skipped my first rock at 43 years old. The first time it happened, I was at Lloyd Lake in Golden Gate Park and I literally screamed at the top of my lungs. My son and I both went from startled at the intensity of my reaction to ultimate celebration and triumph at achieving something I had been working on for 43 years.
It’s still hard and I only get it half the time but my wrist and arm are developing the muscle memory to do it more often. So yes, the throwing reminds me of parenting in that skill building takes time and things that feel hard get easier (hopefully WAY before 43 years?!) But also, the flying rock reminds me of the experience of parenting.
The phases and stages that keep coming, the everlasting Wonder Weeks that keep us on our toes. Each time the rock hits the water, there is a disruption, but that disruption causes another jumping off point and then you fly for a bit with ease. Eventually the momentum peters out and something is integrated until the next rock is thrown. When you see these patterns as a skipping stone, it makes sense. Of course there is ease and disruption, of course it will end, of course it will come again. When you are in the middle of a tough spot (or an easy one for that matter) remember that these cycles are normal. Can you reeeeally relish the sweet spots knowing that they will come and go and remember that the disruptions are almost always fertile ground for a jumping off point?
In case you too, haven’t mastered the art of skipping, I’ve included detailed instructions below.
- Select a skipping stone.
- Grip the stone properly.
- Throw the stone.
- Release the stone.
So simple. 43 years, haha.
Aaannd, if you need support figuring out what this means for YOU, I’m here. You can book a lactation or sleep consult, join my membership group or sign up for Middle Road Musings to get a monthly note delivered to your inbox ❤️.
Until Next Time,
Jen
