The past week has flow by in a chaotic and busyness of moving from my parents house into our rental house. School has been so busy already; this is only the second week, mind you. I am so utterly glad and thankful that my dear family was able to help us move. I have been trying to get homework done ahead of time, meaning a lot of reading books and writing discussion posts and taking quizzes.
This rental we moved into was built in the 70s, we have the sweetest landlords. The house is HUGE, I mean probably not that large, but when you live in a one bedroom apartment for two years with a husband and later a baby it feels MASSIVE. That being said, there is a lot of space, space that things do not need to clutter (mental note to self). Today baby G and I were in his room, sorting through some more bags and putting his too small clothes (which makes me sad) into a box and setting blankets, winter clothes and diapers in his closet. He wasn’t having a lot of fun with the unpacking, mainly just crawling up my knees begging to do something else. So we sat down and dug into the cardboard moving box that held a lot of wooden blocks.
When I was a little girl we had this set of wooden colored blocks. The set was kept in this denim drawstring bag that was labeled BLOCKS in varying colors. Those blocks had so many purposes, food for when we played with the kitchen set, furniture when we played Polly Pockets and blocks for when we had contest to see who could balance one on top the other, to build the tallest tower. As far as I know my mother still has the set, in the same denim bag. The set that my son received came from my husband’s grandma, who recently passed away. Not only is it wooden (YAY for a kids toy that isn’t plastic), but we get to tell our little buddy its from his Great-Grandma.
When my son and I play blocks, I mostly spend the time building the blocks one on top the other and he comes around like a weed whipper and smacks it down with his hand or the block in his hand. Sometimes I will try to get his attention with one arm, while building a tower with the other arms in hopes of staying ahead. Let me tell you this does not last long.
Like so many instances of my day, my mind began to wonder while we were playing. I began to think of how we build our own block towers in life. We start a foundation, which begins the moment we are born and we continue to build. We are always building up, but not all of those blocks are steady and good for our tower. Sometimes it is hard to look at someone else’s tower because we are all unique, and no one builds their blocks the same way.
In order for the block tower to grow, two things have to happen. First, you must start with a strong foundation and second you must contribute to the pile. Your foundation in life begins with who you are. How do you treat and think of yourself? What characteristics do you possess that make you, you? What values are important to you? What do you cherish? What are you thankful for? What kind of an attitude on life do you have?
The foundation is affected by family, faith, friends, health and education. Some aspects of these have a negative or positive affect on you, or perhaps both at different circumstances. The choices in life we make determine whether we add another block or take one off. And the result of the block tower is a reflection of these choices.
The most amazing realization is that we get to build our own block tower. We can let someone into our hearts and help us build our block tower, but we can also let someone define who we are and knock our tower down. We can make poor decision, which can add a small block to the tower and weaker our frame, but we can also make a choice to build our foundation stronger, making the block tower tougher. We can add on as many blocks as we want, or we can stabilize and debate decisions.
IT IS ENTIRELY UP TO YOU.
What does your block tower look like?
Do you like the way it looks? If not, what are you going to do about it?