In the past year, I’ve spent a lot of time with a five year old. I’ve had the honor of seeing the world through her eyes. The wonderful thing about spending time with children – their playfulness, joy, curiosity, awe and wonder — it’s contagious. Children will teach you to take off the blinders imposed by decades of living, and see everything *gestures broadly* for truly what it is, as if for the very first time — miraculous. They remind us to open our eyes and hearts to witness and receive the magic that is life.
When I left my last job, I needed a break to figure out what was next for me. I wanted a part-time gig that allowed me to turn off my cerebral mind and reserve my intellectual energy to explore and fuel my own potential. In walked Saturn.
This opportunity fell into my lap. A testament to one of my favorite guiding mantras — “Leap and the net will appear.”
As our time together comes to an end, I’ve been reflecting on the lessons I’ve learned from my tiniest teacher.
PLAY LIKE NO ONE IS WATCHING
I often listen to Saturn play. It’s charming to hear the imaginative worlds she seems to have one foot in at all times. At any point, able to sidebar and entertain herself with an entire world of make believe characters and storylines. When she invites me to join I find that I don’t have the same capacity for play anymore. When did I lose touch with this ability to become so completely absorbed by my imagination?
Children are so connected to their artistry. Not concerned with being “good”, they understand, to create is to be alive. To paint, color, sketch just because it feels good. We can both spend hours crafting at the kitchen table, happily working on our pieces. Adults spend so much time researching, hacking our brains, consuming substances to access this flow state. I’ve found that it’s less complicated than we make it out to be. Flow is play.
How much more free would we feel if we tapped back into our inner child’s capacity for play? How much more connected to our creativity would we feel? Creating not for consumption, validation or approval — simply for the joy of it.
JOYFUL SONG
The best remedy for anxiety? A belly laugh. Smiling until your cheeks hurt. Laughter is a shared language. It is medicine. It is healing.
In my family, two things are certain, we’re going to eat good, and we’re going to laugh. Growing up, every Sunday my cousins gathered at my grandmother’s house to learn her recipes and laugh. It’s embedded into my understanding of meaningful human connection.
Bustling between school pickup and her evening activities is my favorite time with Saturn. We listen to music in the car, her current favorite’s — Victoria Monét, Rihanna, Beyoncé – the girl’s got great taste. Erupting into song and dance, laughter finding us effortlessly.
She’s taught me to hold onto joy. To seek it out fervently. It’s all we got.
CURIOSITY, AWE AND WONDER
During a thunderstorm this past week I felt a glimmer of that awe and wonder that children walk around experiencing almost all of the time.
I woke to the sound of the sky cracking open.
The thing about thunder – it demands your attention. It stops you in your tracks. Pulls you out of your slumber. I often turn to the natural world, to better understand the world within me, with all of its nuances, layers and shifts.
What then, do storms teach us about ourselves?
Thunder serves as a warning, to pay attention, to look up. To awaken from our metaphorical slumber and be present with life as it’s happening. To heed the quiet requests of the Spirit before they swell and become far less easy to ignore. To remember the fragility and impermanence of this precious thing we call life.
The scales can feel unbalanced when care taking for young children. Not yet fully independent, they rely on us for so much. But as it turned out I needed her, way more than she ever needed me. Sure, I may help her tie her shoes, remind her to go to the bathroom, clean up her messes. But what she offers me is far more meaningful – a reawakening. To remember to play, feel awe, remain curious, be free, authentic, and above all — to be present.
She has reminded me that we are who we are all along. We come into this world a whole lot more sure of ourselves. Through the years, we lose touch with our core essence. We fall out of sync with ourselves. We get swept up by the distractions and delusions of the world. Leaving us asking the wrong question “What do I want to do with my life?” instead of “Who have I always been?” and “How can I best share my unique gifts, talents and abilities with the world?”
Self-discovery is less of a figuring out and more of a remembering, a coming home.
It’s not lost on me, the synchronicity of all of this. I needed a period of mental rest to fuel my creative reset. To remember that the all answers I seek are already within me. The perfect teacher appeared in the form of a five year old named Saturn.
If there isn’t a child immediately in your life, ask yourself, ask your parents/caregivers:
What did I love to do? How did I like to spend my time when I was younger?
What can I spend hours doing and lose track of time?
What makes me feel the most connected to play?
Somewhere along the way the magic of life is dulled. I’m reawakening the inner child within me. Showing up daily as an active and willing participant in the dance of life. Committing to being present enough to experience life in its fullness.
This is your invitation to do the same.
Until next time. Thanks for being here.
Take Care,
xx Asha Nia