Is there nothing quite as humbling as a little boy's tracks in the snow? As I run around the house cleaning and putting away laundry -- racing against a nonexistent clock-- I stopped to watch my four year old son playing outside. I kept my eye on him, he was jumping on the snow filled trampoline. But what caught my eye were his tracks.
You could tell where he started and when I followed them, it amazed me. Up and down and across logs and trees, over the fence, down to where the woods started at the edge of our yard and back up to the deck. It was pure curiosity that fueled my child. It was ten degrees outside and I thought for sure he would be back within two minutes, but he was out there still...jumping away on the frozen, snow filled trampoline.
When does that disappear in one's life? If I have fifteen minutes to look at a magazine, I feel I am enjoying life. But I am not. Curiosity and pure abandonment is the joy of life isn't it? Jumping over logs to see if there is a puddle to splash...now that is joy. Not having five minutes to drive to the nearest drive-through.
Watching him, I understood more my husband. He never grew out of that stage. His tracks took him into a profession that allows him to jump over, through and on any mission he is sent. His curiosity allows him to learn many languages and his abandonment of anything routine gives him the chance to get on his own trampoline in life.
I wish I hadn't given up my tracks in the snow. I am not sure when it happened, but it did. I now come inside after two minutes, thinking about something or someone that needed my attention. I guess watching my son and my husband allows for me to live life in a way that I perhaps once did. I follow their tracks in the snow with my watchful eyes and they wave from the distance.
You could tell where he started and when I followed them, it amazed me. Up and down and across logs and trees, over the fence, down to where the woods started at the edge of our yard and back up to the deck. It was pure curiosity that fueled my child. It was ten degrees outside and I thought for sure he would be back within two minutes, but he was out there still...jumping away on the frozen, snow filled trampoline.
When does that disappear in one's life? If I have fifteen minutes to look at a magazine, I feel I am enjoying life. But I am not. Curiosity and pure abandonment is the joy of life isn't it? Jumping over logs to see if there is a puddle to splash...now that is joy. Not having five minutes to drive to the nearest drive-through.
Watching him, I understood more my husband. He never grew out of that stage. His tracks took him into a profession that allows him to jump over, through and on any mission he is sent. His curiosity allows him to learn many languages and his abandonment of anything routine gives him the chance to get on his own trampoline in life.
I wish I hadn't given up my tracks in the snow. I am not sure when it happened, but it did. I now come inside after two minutes, thinking about something or someone that needed my attention. I guess watching my son and my husband allows for me to live life in a way that I perhaps once did. I follow their tracks in the snow with my watchful eyes and they wave from the distance.
1 comment:
It's so easy to lose the child within us. Isn't it? With all the "adult" responsibilities we must attend to each day there's not much time left for levity and fun. But you must take the opportunity to be a little silly whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Erik and I went grocery shopping one day and while we were in the store the skies opened up and torrential rains started to fall. By the time we left the store the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. People were standing under the awnings outside the store wondering if they should make a mad dash to their cars through the sporadic rain drops or simply wait it out.
Erik and I looked at each other and then surveyed the parking lot. Without saying a word we both darted out into the rain oblivious to what might happen to our hair, or our clothes, or our purchases. As we made our way to the car we gleefully jumped with both feet into every puddle we past, each trying to out splash the other!
When we got to the car we looked back and saw smiles on the faces of all the "stick in the muds" still huddled near the building - oh they have no idea what fun they missed! Seems like a silly thing to do, but I’ll never forget it.
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