All In: Katie Rockliff
A note to my daughter. And those of her generation making sense of the current situation.
I am grieving for the ease with which we breakfasted in bed every morning only to spill out into the world after. For the weekends that were always so full with fun and friends and out-and-aboutedness. For Vitamin Sea dunking and dawn coast walks and gelati after school on FriYAYs. For the now-closed art galleries, kids parties and cafes. For our streets emptying of the human hustle and eco-system that made it sing.
For all the things.
I am grieving that perhaps I have no real ‘right’ to grieve. When I have grieved and am grieving over lost businesses and lost lives amongst something so inconsequential as lost days of the week that once held a meaning each to each. Grieving that the landscape of our adventures has shrunk to these walls. And that our human limitlessness is capped and traded for a limitless waiting.
This restricted movement, this cocoon may release a butterfly in me or the caged lioness yet.
And then I shake this off. I will come back to this feeling of course I will. We all will. But after all I am beyond glad it is these walls our adventures have shrunk to. These walls of wonder and all the love within them. How lucky we are. How much we have. That we are here with this life…
And here with you. Your refusal to be small in the face of this enormity. Your speed to laugh and shake your tush irreverently and light up every room you enter. The way you’ve stepped up and owned this new era. How quickly you’ve surrendered to the universe and not fought it. That you’re all in, embracing the change.
Radiance is contagious. And now the adults are catching on. More jokes, more playlists, more sharing of vulnerabilities amongst work colleagues and friends. An act of defiance maybe. Of gratitude. Of LOVE above all. More baking extra – practising your school maths as we measure for older neighbours and the homeless. We all share this common reality now.
And know it is enough that I show up. Be present in your moments. And share mine with you. Talk. Listen. And have your back. Be human. Give easily. And find any excuse to dance, sing and laugh freely. To bring MORE JOY.
How ferociously I want to protect you and us. And yet I marvel at your strength.
And when you feel anxious, that’s normal. It’s proof you are sane. There are things to be anxious about. Breathe. Trust. Wash your hands. And stop reading under the covers already and go to sleep now. You are amazing. You are fierce. You will rise.
We are all tested in order to grow. Out of the cocoon. And into our next self. And it will rock us and tear us and hurt maybe. But not to become the butterfly but the LION.
‘Cos you’re born to run. And to roar.
And we are the proud.