Lions, Lambs, and Axes


Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!

Keeping the light on for you,

Carol

There’s been a cosmic shift at our house.

Trickster March tiptoed in like a lamb with her seductively warm temperatures, nesting birds, and uncharacteristic gluts of sunshine. Yet like a good date gone bad, the she-beast abruptly reared her lioness head with snow, gray skies, and accompanying sour moods. Such is the course of nature in these parts. It’s no wonder that, compared to other locales, March in the North boasts the pinnacle of poor mental health.

It seems everyone is on edge during this transitional time of year. Just as Mother Nature’s temper roars, so the din in our house also rises. A pair of twenty-somethings navigating recent bumps in the road of adulthood has us parents struggling to (politely?) listen and guide in the name of “unconditional love.” It doesn’t always go well, and parental frustration can bring down the hammer in short order. A walk outside for fresh air is no help since both weather and wildlife are squawking even louder these days in protest. Everyone and everything is glaringly out of kilter right now. Thank you, Mother Earth.

Accordingly, the hubs and I do what any frazzled progenitors might: roll our eyes, shake our heads, try to laugh, and toast this sometimes-excruciating ride called parenthood with a stiff drink. But this mom has another coping skill up her sleeve. Or I should say at the end of her arm.

Axe throwing.

Yes, a 60-year-old otherwise risk-averse woman has taken to throwing crude but lethal weapons for fun. All within the safety of a chain link cage and obviously, sans liquor. Curiosity led me to lightly research this new interest. Tossing tomahawks for fun has been around since the 1800s although earlier historical groups such as Vikings used axes for melee combat (no thank you). Any self-respecting lumberjack in a logger camp would have, and still hones, this skill. The explosion of the sport as we know it today began as an idea around 2006 by a bartender in Toronto. And by around 2011 the sport exploded into what it is today. Add to that its benefits: improved reaction time, coordination, agility, strength, endurance, and dare I add – relaxation. 

There’s something wonderfully primordial about hurling pointed objects at large, forgiving slabs of wood, free from fear or guilt of bodily harm. I went for the first time a few weeks back and am happily hooked (and rebooked). Timely, considering the phase of funk at home.

Visceral gratification is mine even with an off-the-mark hit. The aim, the lean, the toss with a final flick of the wrist; it ticks all the boxes for safe release of both aggression and parental exasperation. Even when the object of torture bounces or falls, it’s simply picked up and thrown again. A beautiful metaphor of life in a simple, no-nonsense  package.

It’s my humble opinion that everyone – especially a parent – should toss an axe at some point for either entertainment, catharsis, or say, during an equinox when the earth seems at odds with us. Depending how well you toss, a shovel or star blade could be substituted for the trusty axe, adding their unique requirements to hopefully snag an elusive bull’s eye. And while I’m not into Renaissance faires, I do have, when throwing, a strong desire to hold a roasted turkey leg in my free hand for snacking. Cue the Game of Thrones soundtrack…

Flush with newfound excitement, I tried coaxing my husband into giving the axe a try. He’s not against it but sadly, his work schedule won’t cooperate. He’ll get there at some point and, fingers crossed, he’ll find it as satisfying as I do. The verdict is out though as to whether I share my turkey leg.  

As our once-little lambs mature, the hubs and I will need many ports in the stormy lion’s share of life. And as long as we can keep targeting our chagrin at a wooden wall, ain’t NOBODY gonna get hurt.