I mean, you don't outgrow a culturally condoned addiction to distraction without a little wistfulness.
Here's how it went down:
I'm in a river, a beautiful, dreamy, achingly clear and pristine and cool river that flows out of the highest mountains on the east coast. This river gathers in azure and emerald swimming holes that have naturally occurring rock slides and rope swings are EVERYWHERE.
This is not a river to be missed. It is the river of my dreams. So of course I was scrolling my facebook feed. Feet in the river, head in other people's business. And not even into it, just ... doing it. Then my son caught a fish, maybe his second or third of his whole life and he's so excited and totally scared of it too and it's beautiful and raw and extraordinary and my first thought is, "I need to get a good shot of this for facebook."
I have impulse control issues, most of them I love. I jump head long into things I'm not ready for, even a little. I learned how to ride a motorcycle and took my first solo trip in a single day with only ten minutes of instruction. But sometimes I find myself throwing my brand new 600 dollar Iphone into a river before I can check it at the gate.
Thank heavens for impulse control issues.
I turned to my son, to my life, and said, okay, I'm listening.