A rare occurrence last evening: our neighbors, Russ and Angie, were over with their 5 year old son, Matty. It's been 25 years or so since we had that kind of spirit in our house, and it is always overwhelming: the energy, the enthusiasm, the inquisitiveness!
A person of that age is a "sponge", so they say, but the word is inadequate. The curiousity, the dynamism of wanting to try everything, touch everything, see everything. So inspiring and exhausting, for not only are you their guide and mentor in the excursion into the objects and experiences contained in your house, which are all new to them, you also need to set limits on what can be allowed in their explorations. Fortunately we lived through Hurricane Travis (our son and second-born), and have a lot of experience with enthusiastic, fearless young people.
It was a joy to show Matty the piano: how the pedals work, what the hammers do, how to play "twinkle twinkle", how to guide a pick along the strings for a special sound.
Kids that age are wide open, and what happens to them between that age and their late teens and adulthood is a sad, sad, mystery. We all know, or have heard of those who, even in their adult years, have kept this sense of wonder. I can still access it at times in a limited way, when I am able look at something with an unjaundiced eye, and taste of the wonder of it. But for most of us, the adherence to rules, and the million compromises we make in order to become "productive members of society" and "grown-ups" stop up that font of joy that we had free access to in our youth.
Herman Hesse (I think it was) proposed that we spend part of every day in quiet contemplation of a tree, or some such object in nature. Having done this a few times I can testify to its healing properties. It's a way to re-frame our experience, to step outside the adult who says: "I see a tree", barely acknowledging it as real; reducing it to a statistic, and not the wondrous miracle that is any tree, large or small.
In what other ways might we re-connect to the capacity for wonder, for joy in our adult lives?
Beautiful little post dad. What a writer you are! I'm not so much into trees as I am into looking at the sky. I watch the clouds skip across the sky during the day and at night I seek out what few stars I can see for the lights of the city. I find this practice hugely relaxing and contemplative. It reminds me that there are bigger things in this universe than just my bullshit. It also reminds me that life is a miracle and I am blessed to witness it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for these uplifting thoughts, Erica!
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