...
There's an hour. Maybe 90 minutes. Just a sliver of sunlight left on the last night of your family trip to California because the day got away from you...but you still need to see and feel the ocean one last time before you travel back and become land-locked once more. You type the beach that many locals have recommended into your GPS and off you go. "Your destination is on the left," the voice echoes. But to your left is a string of shops and restaurants....and the sun is quickly fading as kids screech in disapproval, desperately clinging to hope that they will still feel the cool, salty breeze on their faces and the wet sand on their toes.
...
And then there's your senior year of high school. You have your life mapped out in your young, naive mind as end-of-the-year orchestra and choir concerts diminuendo and you close the curtains on your last year as a bonafide youth. College, job, marriage, kids. That's how you do it, right? And then it hits you in the face like a cold, icy headwind. The positive pregnancy test stares up at you from the bathroom sink of your childhood home that you've dwelled within since you were five-years-old.
...
See, here's the thing about surprises. Sometimes they're bad. Sometimes they're so bad they knock the wind straight out of you...and sometimes they are a slow, painful rub like sandpaper against your heart. I've never been one to welcome surprises with open arms; I've always panicked in their wake, trembling in fear and rage before I give the moment a chance to unfold. Because...surprises reroute us. They take the picture that we've already painted in our mind's eye and completely change the color scheme, the whole entire feel of the painting. We are forced to veer to the side and choose an alternate path and it scares us. Surprise means change.
But...here's the other thing about surprises. Sometimes when they unfold to their full potential, they are good. Like, really good. Because sometimes you are worn down to bare bones after a week of non-stop sleepless nights with your teething one-year-old awakening and crying out for you, but when you open the door to a not-so-pleasant surprise, your first reaction is anger, frustration, but...that tired, worn-out toddler finally slept for longer than an hour stretch and two stubborn teeth made the voyage out from beneath his tender gums. Because sometimes after that moment of frustration and after the mess has been cleaned and the dust has settled, the moment moves swiftly to a moment of peace as relief overcomes him and you hold him close without a hint of discomfort after a long, long week.
And when you finally find that beach, the sun is settling into a cradle of soft, vibrant oranges and purples as your children run wild and free through the sand and waves. Your chest rises and falls as the salty sea air kisses your cheeks as if to say 'goodbye, see you soon,' and you are completely enamored with the moment that surrounds you. Your husband's arms engulf you as the sound of crashing waves and sweet laughter fill you up to the brim. The perfect close to the perfect week. More perfect than you'd originally imagined.
And...when your world feels like it is crashing in around you, 18 and pregnant, it's hard to see the moment of calm that lies beyond the moment of chaos. It may feel like your world is collapsing, that there is no way up from such a deep, deep low, but then all at once the smoke clears and there, looking up from the ashes of your whole world that seemed to have burned to the ground is the sweet, sweet face of your newborn son. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, his mere existence revives you and instantaneously rebuilds your brokenness. Sometimes the worst surprises are the best ones.
I will probably always panic when I come face-to-face with surprises that seem unpleasant at first glance; I will probably always brace myself, teeth clenched as they blow through me and shift me to the left and right. But more often than not, these moments of high tide that you would presume to cause a great calamity, leave the sand beneath its chaos smoothed and new. Surprises are just like high tides. They are chaotic and tumultuous, but when it settles and washes away, you are left with a fresh, clean moment of peace. So, even though I will grit my teeth and muddle through the chaos, I will always know that after each life-shaking and not-so-life-shaking surprise, there is calm.
There simply can be no calm without chaos. So, I welcome the chaos in all of its bittersweet surprise.
I'm wearing Dexter in a Sakura Bloom Pure Linen in 'Caribbean'.
