Medicine for the Heart

Hi friends and followers!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. I had some feelings akin to writer’s block as well as a sense of wonderment about whether or not you actually wanted to hear my musings at all. Probably happens to most blog writers. I had fallen in an artistic hole, if you will.

What changed? This evening, I had an epiphany.

About a year and a half ago, I had started volunteering with a non-profit organization in NYC called KEEN, which stands for Kids Enjoy Exercise Now. They have a variety of different types of exercise and craft classes for youth with disabilities. Basketball, yoga, horseback riding, dance… you name it! Now, if you don’t remember, I work with kids during my day job (or night job), so why would I voluntarily go spend more time with kids, you ask? Well, I love kids, and at my job, I spend time with kids when they are at their most desperate time. When I go to KEEN events, I get to see kids who are thriving. It’s actually medicine for my heart.

Unfortunately life happened and I didn’t go for a while. I don’t exactly remember why. I don’t remember there being a specific reason. I just remember changing jobs and moving and suddenly didn’t have much time.

If someone could bottle time, I would be most appreciative.

Recently, I was looking through my calendar and emails and I noticed that I hadn’t been in a long time. So, I took out my calendar and I signed up for some days. Today being the first one. Now I had met some friends in the city and was walking around thinking, “oh boy, I could really go home now” but I don’t like to be a flake so I hung out and made it.

I made the right move. There is something about just good old play that is cathartic. My athlete today was an adorable young man who happens to be on the autism spectrum. He loved shooting hoops and would playfully holler “NO!” at me if I suggested practicing dribbling or passing (Mini triumph: we did practice some dribbling around the cones!). I would crack up every time he would holler one of the coaches names to get the ball for him because he was obviously way cooler than me, and he did an awesome job during showcase time at the end of the hour where the athletes get to dribble or pass the ball down the court and make a shot.

Even with all of that, the highlight of my night had to be when his mom came to get him and he turned to me and said “bye.” Now, this is a kid who communicates but only on his terms. I don’t know why I had stopped going because these interactions are the prescription that my soul needs.

Medicine for the heart doesn’t always have fancy names and you don’t need a cardiologist to prescribe it. Sometimes, it’s just good old fashion playtime.