I often find myself parked on the side of the road
in a moment of decision:
Go clean the house
Golden moments with my boy.
It isn’t always easy, choosing
to be the last child in the woods,
but today it was…perfect.
It’s always a major expedition
going down to the river valley floor with a 3 year old.
You can’t have a timeline.
They do not keep record of the fact that
the farther they go the farther
they will have to return, uphill.
Just the sidewalk to the field is a 10 minute excursion,
then the field to the forest edge will be another 20
because there are bottle caps to collect,
then the forest edge itself will be half an hour of
helicoptering maple seeds and picking berries.
Interject another 10 minutes because a tractor is moving dirt around
(and it simply must be supervised by three year old eyes)
and at last you can begin the descent.
A little object lesson arises on the hill:
There is a lovely yellow pencil hiding in the leaves.
Which quickly becomes a pencil in the hand – –
in the hand of the boy running down the root-clad hill.
“Oh, I better take that…if you trip and fall you will poke your eye out!”
“Davis, look at all these amazing roots you are going to need two hands to grab onto!”
(I tried both)
Amazingly, his grip tightened with the first phrase
and loosened when his gaze was directed elsewhere.
The right phrase will guide the gaze.
As I said, a little object lesson… for me!
How do I talk to myself?
Like a naggedy nag,”you shouldn’t be so….just stop that…why are you always…”
What if I just
lift my gaze instead,
to all the things I need both hands and my fully present soul to really grab on to?
What if I deep breathe, loosen my fingers, turn off the car,and go to the wood…..
to the wide open sun drizzled lonely old wood.
and my scallywag son
can play as One Child…