Bouncing

When my oldest son was about four, he asked for something or other. I don’t remember what it was but I do remember I turned him down. Shortly afterwards I heard a repeated noise coming from the bedroom he shared with his brothers. When I looked, I saw him bouncing rhythmically up and down on his bed. When I asked what he was doing he answered, “I’m bouncing my mad away”. I thought it was brilliant. Not punching one of his brothers. Not screaming at me or anyone else. Bouncing his mad away. We had a trampoline in the backyard when the kids were young and as far as I know it wasn’t used for that but maybe it was, unconsciously so. Maybe it saved a lot of screaming and punching. When I was a kid I seriously wanted a pogo stick. I never got one so as soon as my own kids were old enough, I bought one. Ostensibly it was for them but I loved it too. I am so frustrated over the state of things in the world. And sometimes people are crazy-making for me as well. I’d like to find a way to bounce all that away but I don’t have a pogo stick or a trampoline any more and I doubt my pelvic musculature would stand up to either of those anyway. So I’ve learned to use walking when I feel mentally nuts. I walk. And I walk. And some days I walk some more. It helps. I do a lot of walking these days. If things continue like this, I expect to be in excellent physical shape.

Picture courtesy Peggy_Marco at pixabay.com