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  • Writer's pictureRich Honiball

Better Late Than Never

Updated: Jan 5, 2020

It occurs to me, sitting at the kitchen table while the family sleeps, that I haven’t posted about our “journey” in a while. The journey from just missing the school bus, to just missing the school bell, to simply hoping that we get to school before the first class ends. One that had me going to work early, homemade cold oats in hand greeting fellow associates as they arrived, to stopping by a local coffee shop to grab a latte and a few minutes to write, to, well, hoping I don’t have to cancel my first meeting of the day.

Life is a journey. Ours has been filled with delays.

Remarkably, we each keep trying. My wife, the teachers, and most importantly, our daughter. It is a game of trial and error, two steps forward and one step backwards. Sometimes we add a sidestep and it looks like a new dance move. Last night, she was putting off dinner not to play video games, but to catch up on geometry. An assignment that is past due.

Better late than never.

The reasons for the delays are unclear to me, and the subject for a future post. I will admit that I find it incredibly frustrating at times because the more things are put off, the fewer options we have. Yet, I have to appreciate and admire that she continues to push forward. While understanding that while the need to finish by a deadline seems pretty clear to me, I do not understand the challenges that others face in doing so.

Because I have my own.

When we lived in Texas, I took up yoga. Starting with private classes because I was uncomfortable just joining a class in session. Eventually I found my way into group classes. It worked. I would stop by on my way home a couple of times a week and it made a difference. However, life got in the way, filled with convenient excuses, and I stopped. When we moved to Virginia, I found other things to do with my time. Last year around this time, my wife sensing that I could use it, purchased a gift certificate for a local yoga studio. A year to use it. Fifty weeks later, it continued to sit on my desk?

Why, you ask?

Tons of reasons. Tons of excuses. Not the least of which was this internal lack of comfort in going to another studio, after so many years of not practicing. Perhaps, with a similar level of anxiety that a freshman faces with a new school. A new program. New teachers and friends. A new level of work. Oh, who am I kidding…. going to a yoga class is so much easier, yet I managed to put it off for almost a year.

Better late than never.

Yesterday, stressed and realizing it, not wanting my wife’s thoughtful gift to go to waste, I went to my first class. A slow, “easy” paced class of beginners. Uh huh. My Downward Facing Dog looked more like Dead Squirrel on the Side of the Road – but I did it. And I felt much better afterwards, both physically as well as mentally and emotionally for having faced the challenge, despite the fifty-week delay.

My hope is that is how our daughter felt when she finished her geography assignment late last night and ate every scrap of the food we left in her room.



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