Wild women are the unexplainable spark of life. They ozze freedom, seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves yet give a piece of who they are to everyone they meet.
If you have met one, hold onto her, she’ll allow you into her chaos but she’ll also show you her magic.-Nikki Rowe
Today I asked my daughter, Ainslie, to get ready for Church. You see when I was growing up, it was ‘Sunday Best’ to church.
Normally a cute, frilly, girlie dress with some sort of polished or shiny white or black shoes. You may even top it off with a matching headband or tights.
She scurried off to her room, not before she tunneled her way through the ‘fort’ she made by laying 4 blankets across the couch. Tossing every pillow onto the ground.
Wildly alive in her imagination.
In fact, I should let you know that during the second award ceremony of the year this year, we received notification that she would be receiving an award. I had no idea what for. Maybe being kind to people, or trying hard on her handwriting, or always putting her hand up to be a helper in class.
No…it was for her LOVE of playing on the monkey bars.
She came rushing into our bedroom as I was getting ready, in an outfit that could NOT be missed if you tried. Everything mis-matched, everything in loud color. Three hair clips, clipped on top of each other. (see photo above!)
To wear her bright blue neon sandals so she could show off her painted toenails.
We showed up to church, in her Sunday Best. Wildly alive in the beautiful imprint that she has on her life, alive in her own sense of self. A courageous and constant reminder that we all have permission to be alive in our lives if we choose.