I have a 9-month-old son named Graham. He has bright red hair, enormous blue eyes, and the softest skin I’ve ever touched. He also has so much energy and is so inquisitive that it puts Curious George to shame. He doesn’t stop moving until he’s asleep. He literally crawls around in his crib at naptime until he passes out from exhaustion. He started crawling at 6-months, and he’s been trying to walk ever since. It’s like he can’t wait to grow up and be independent and make his own way in life.
As a mom, my heart has become more tender, my patience is ever improving, I’m constantly cleaning, and I’m always worrying. But I’m also lucky enough to be able to watch how this baby boy grows and learns. He holds such awe and wonder at the simplest things. He loves without caution. He’s daring because he knows I’ll always catch him when he falls. He gets excited beyond compare when he sees me peeling a banana, or cutting open an avocado because he loves to eat and taste things. He “sings” along to music as I hold him in my arms and dance with him. He loves to play chase. He giggles uncontrollably when I toss him in the air or swing him upside down. And when he’s tired he’ll lay his head on my shoulder for a few seconds to catch his breath before squirming out of my arms to see what else he can learn about before it’s time to fall asleep.
I’m so amazed by his thirst for knowledge and his innocent, unjaded perspective on living. I reflect on my own life and how each of my experiences–positive and negative–have affected the way I think and do things. I’m so cautious and careful when it comes to opening up my heart and soul to anyone. Graham just accepts everyone for who they are, without concern for what anyone thinks of him (although I have yet to meet anyone who doesn’t adore him). I tend to get tunnel vision when I have a lot to do, and I miss out on the beauty and wonderment that living in Southern California offers. Graham will sit outside and quietly soak in everything he sees–birds chirping, airplanes flying, the texture of grass between his toes, the way leaves rustle in a light breeze, the colorful flowers dotting the landscape, and the expanse of nature without walls. I’m busy trying to be productive from the time I wake up until I go to bed at night. Graham just wants to spend time with me and his dad, constantly trying to climb on us or get us to play with him. I get so caught up in my moods that I have a hard time noticing anyone else’s feelings. Graham simply reflects my mood back to me, being purely sympathetic and loving me unconditionally.
What small and simple lessons can you learn from a new little life? What basic wonders of the world have you forgotten about? When was the last time you walked outside and stopped for a moment to look up instead of down, or to listen to the everyday sounds that you never hear? How many colorful sunsets have you missed? Or opportunities to play in the rain? To make a snow angel? To play in the mud and get messy without worrying about cleaning up until later? To walk barefoot in the grass?
Babies have the right priorities, if you ask me. They will always show you what really matters in life if you just pay attention to them. I’ve learned so much from this perfect and innocent little child, to the point where I’m trying to be more like him. I’ve learned to ignore my to-do list for a few minutes and sit on the floor with him in my lap, watching as he develops the dexterity to do something as simple as slip milk bottle caps into an empty plastic baby wipe container. I’ve learned to look up at the sky again, to watch in amazement as an airplane flies over head, or find the plump, grey doves cooing in a tree. I’ve learned to appreciate the taste of food again, savoring a bite of that perfectly ripe avocado or a cool glass of sweet apple juice, letting the flavors dance on my tongue. I’ve learned to touch flowers to see how velvety they feel between my fingers, and crunch every fallen leaf I can find under my feet as I walk down the street.
If you take a moment to do something child-like each day, I’ll venture to bet that you will find more joy in life. You will probably appreciate that your basic needs are filled and find yourself more satisfied with what you do have instead of constantly worrying about what you don’t have. Your priorities will become more balanced. Those things you’d miss out on and the regrets that would hang over your head won’t be there when your hair is grey and you realize that you may be living the last year or month of your life. Your past will be full of satisfaction. And you will have left a legacy for your posterity to appreciate and learn from.
Don’t just “get by” each day. Don’t be so busy that you walk past a perfectly shaped bunch of lilies or daffodils and don’t appreciate how lovely they are. Don’t forget to look out the window and down at the beautiful world we live in the next time you fly in an airplane. Remember to see things with a new pair of eyes, and hear with a new set of ears once in a while. Don’t forget to carefully taste your food and appreciate your surroundings for a moment each day. Be curious about the wonder of life for a few seconds. And smile back when someone smiles at you.
After all, those are the most basic instincts of a new human life.