I am a full time nanny. That's what i do for work, I take care of three boys, ages 2, 4, and 6. Every day I walk in, never knowing what the day will be like. All I know is that it will be filled with love, laughter, and playfulness, as well as challenges aka opportunities to grow. I took this picture while Max (2 year old) and I were on a walk/motorcycle ride this morning. We do this almost every morning after his older siblings go to school. It takes us about an hour to do a 5 minute walk. I'm not exaggerating. We stop to look at every worm. Every leaf that has fallen from the tree onto the sidewalk. Every rock that stands out. To wave to every car, person, bird, and puppy that goes by. Sometimes I'm in a rush. For no reason at all. It feels unnatural to take so long to take a short distance walk. But he's teaching me something here. How to slow down. How to be present. How to appreciate the miracle of life in every moment. How to never stop being in awe about it. After I took this picture, he called me over to sit with him. So I did, somewhere around the block from his house, in the middle of the sidewalk. There was a stressed voice in my mind "ugh, come on," and another, "just let go and be with life." I sat with him and watched the wind blow in the trees and listened to the birds. We ate grapes together. Then he got distracted and stood up and started chasing a butterfly. Then jumped in a puddle. He is free. Something I'm trying to let him teach me how to be. Today I let go of the voices that were afraid of being present and free. Sometimes I want to keep the kids inside when I get overwhelmed. Inside where there are walls and I know they're safe, and it's so comparable to my own internal fears. I need to let the walls come down. To let myself be free. Present. Authentic. Playful. Loving. Me. Everyday I'm working on letting down the walls. Literally, we are always outside. But I'm working on getting more outside of my head. With them sometimes, more often now than ever, the walls become transparent. I see and walk right through. And my God, life is so beautiful, and so much more fun outside. Why does it feel safe inside there anyway? It's boring. It's mean. It's stressed. It never wants to play. Freedom sounds much better.