I am the mother of two spectacular sons who followed very different paths of development. One was typically developing and the other had special needs. Now adults, they have forged their own paths – each a bright light in the world. Both have taught me incredible lessons along the way. While their methods may have differed, the messages were the same. Listen to me. Take the time to be present. Do not allow the busyness of daily life to make you lose sight of what is truly important.
Children are amazingly adept at living in the moment. They see situations unfold and they formulate judgments in real time. They do not have a lifetime of experience to cloud their reality. They take their cues from the adults in their lives, but they are not mini adults. They view the world through a vastly different lens.
When my children were younger, we spent hours exploring life and appreciating it together. We did not schedule those moments, we lived them as they occurred. We kept our eyes open for organic opportunities to stop, take it all in, and appreciate the wonder. While I may have been the one to begin this practice with my children, it was they who continued calling my attention to those very special moments. As we age, we become conditioned to move through life at an increasingly rapid pace. We do not, however, continue to live fully in the moment without some prompting. Today, mindfulness is a buzzword. Back then, it was simply our way of life.
Much of our early days were filled with appointments as we sought the help our oldest son required – doctor visits, occupational therapy outings, and speech therapy sessions. Consequently, my sons and I spent a great deal of time in the car. I resolved to use that travel time as an opportunity to teach my children, to bond with them, and to learn about these wonderfully unique little beings. As we took the time to talk, sing, and share experiences, we laughed, grew, and created some incredibly special memories.
One lovely fall afternoon, after a speech therapy session, we carefully navigated the winding road along the river. It was a picturesque and familiar route, undoubtedly our favorite, but certainly not the most efficient means between two points. Conversation usually focused on the observations made of the many people, cars, and boats along the way. All, however, were mere distractions as my sons fervently searched for the oversized paddleboat that was occasionally docked alongside the road. When tethered to the shore, we frequently saw passengers alternately board and disembark the nautical phenomenon. The sheer size and seemingly random appearance of this vessel made it an exciting portal to what two wide-eyed little boys were certain would be an amazing adventure.
As we searched for the elusive craft that afternoon, our conversation came to an abrupt halt when the question I posed to my youngest son was met with deafening silence. I looked in the rearview mirror to see if he had fallen asleep after what had been a rather long day. He was awake, his eyes were open, and he was intently focused on something beyond the confines of our vehicle. I saw nothing out of the ordinary, so I assumed he was simply engrossed in the quest. I repeated the question, but again, there was no response. When I began the query for the third time, I heard his sweet little voice – scarcely more than a whisper.
“Mommy, shhhhhh. I’m appreciating the beauty. Look how the sunlight sprinkles on the lake.”
There it was. A barely perceptible, but powerful reminder to actively pay attention to the beauty in my surroundings. I was in awe of this pint-sized messenger.
When we arrived home, the brilliant blue sky had filled with fluffy white clouds. We watched as the billowing forms moved in a seemingly haphazard manner to form identifiable shapes. I waited for the excited young voices to proclaim the inevitable sighting of the usual cast of characters: dinosaurs, trains, and cars. Our interests color what we see, and at that stage in their development, their interests were fairly predictable.
Most adults age out of this activity, but my adult son and I still find this to be an enjoyable pastime. When engaging in this pursuit as an adult, he is often just as excited as he was when he was a small child. To see that enthusiasm gives me great joy.
While on an extended walk with him the other day, I noticed his head tilt ever so slightly as he studied the sky. A small smile began to spread across my face as I waited.
“Look, Mom. I see a triceratops,” he exclaimed!
I chuckled, slowed my gait, and followed the direction of his outstretched hand. As I attempted to locate the abstract figure in the partly cloudy sky, I marveled at how much I would miss if he were not here to share it with me. My life is so rich. Not because of what I have or what I have accomplished, but because of two little boys who, as they have grown into men, have taught me the most important lessons of all.