Last time it went missing, it left for a week. So when we realized yesterday at 8pm that my 6-year-old’s ninja turtle water bottle had begun another solo adventure—left behind after baseball practice—I headed to reclaim it.
The empty baseball diamond felt like the Field of Dreams set—my mind even started replaying the “If you build it . . .” line as I canvassed the outfield. The bottle lay, of course, in the last possible place I could look, but I eventually spotted its neon-green lid.
All alone on a cold metal bench.
Well, not completely alone. You see, on my search-and-rescue route I discovered a handful of baseballs, a tennis ball, a Gatorade bottle, and a purple jacket.
All left behind—the typical behavior of most kids that age.
But as I quietly walked back to my car, my shoes absorbing the evening dew, two thoughts began developing:
- What have we left behind in our childhoods that we want to reclaim?
- What are we ready to leave behind now?
There’s a recurring point in one of my favorite podcasts, Live Inspired Podcast, where host John O’Leary asks his guests which quality they embodied as a kid that they wish was still theirs now.
This is what reclaiming’s all about.
It’s looking back to when life was simpler and our true selves shone more brightly. Time has a way of adding layers of grime on us, diluting our essence unless we deliberately bring it forward.
As you think about what you’d like to regain from your childhood, consider your hobbies, passions, and personality as a kid. You might find that maybe you didn’t completely leave them behind. Perhaps the heart of those things still lies within.
So what could kid-you offer to adult-you that would fuel your light?
If we can leave behind part of ourselves in our childhoods, why can’t the same be true in adulthood? Why can’t we shed something that’s not serving us anymore?
Great news—we absolutely can!
Our decision to do so marks the starting point. Then, just like sanding down an old piece of neglected furniture, we’ve gotta use some pressure and consistent effort to remove the layers hiding our potential.
So look into your rearview mirror—what are you excited to see shrink into oblivion?
If you think about it, reclaiming and releasing are natural life partners. As we release the unnecessary, we open space for reclaiming the necessary.
Ready to get started? Your own field of dreams has been built . . . it’s just waiting for you to arrive.
I’m curious what you saw as you looked into your rearview mirror . . . feel free to share in the comments. (I’ll get the conversation started!)