TAP INTO YOUR CHILD-LIKE FAITH
There is a beautiful, fearless energy about children that would change the lives of adults if they would so let it.
Have you watched a child eyeing a puddle? Either they run with abandon without even thinking and jump into it with all of their being, or the wheels are turning, the desire is there, but knowing the consequences keeps them cautious and sorrowfully from the experience.
Do we quench the spirits of children with rules? In so doing, have our own spirits been quenched?
What is the worst that will happen if you let her jump in that puddle? She will be dirty? Soil her new dress? Be judged by others because she is messy and be a reflection of your parenting skills?
And what is the worst that will happen if you let him roll down that grassy hill where mud awaits his arrival at the bottom? Stained jeans? A dirty tee?
Really, are these so important outcomes that we must tell them no instead of allowing their exploratory spirits to experience the joy of jumping in with both feet?
My mother, bless her heart, would allow me to make mud pies. I would covet the metal tins surrounding last night's dinner of pot pies. Knowing there was mud from the last rain, I waited in anticipation for my next creation.
My grandparents contributed to my love of the outdoors as well.
My Oregon grandparents owned a corner store in Bend, Oregon. Just before opening time they would shoo me outside. I would make a fort under the large bushes in the backyard. Everything from reading to hiding to lighting my first match happened in that personal clubhouse. Even in the summer, the air in the early mornings would be crisp and cold. But the smell of the outdoors....oh I loved that smell. I couldn't wander far, and in fact, didn't really want to. Under bushes and weeping willows, our dog Queenie was my companion and we were content in the yard.
My Wyoming Grandma, now SHE was an outdoors icon. I learned the value of hard work, befriending wildlife, listening to the sound of the river and wild horses running, abating fear of thunderstorms, how to climb a mountain and swing an ax.
I was looking through photographs the other day and came across some of my parents working outdoors as surveyors before my dad would go back to the office to draft out property lines. I saw a lot of beautiful scenery, tagging along with them for work. Climbing mountains and hills took me to places not seen from the road. A camera in hand taught me the value of seeing and sharing places some never see.
This morning, as most of our nation is toiling against the Coronavirus, Covid-19, and we are in shut down mode with the rest of the world, my heart is aching for those moments of outdoor experience. I feel like we have been rendered powerless. When Governor Polis says to "stay away from the mountains," I am hearing "This is a GREAT time to go to the mountains!" Fewer crowds, tourists. And it's warm enough for puddles. I worry about my aging parents, and wonder at the plagues my grandparents, now long gone from this world, lived through.
I don't want to be scared! Cautious? Yes. Wise? Yes. But scared? No. Fear isn't part of experiencing this life well.
The instructions to stay indoors at home, avoid being six feet in proximity to another human, elbow bump rather than shake hands, search multiple outlets to find this week's ration of toilet paper..... this is crazy. Unprecedented in my lifetime.
I think it's a good idea to go puddle-hunting. Find a good stick and some mud and draw pictures in it. Get dirty. Not germ-y. But dirty, with good clean dirt. :-) Schools and churches and a good many businesses are closed. How about we spend some time around the table with our families? Or read that really good book that you've been staring at for weeks now? Try painting, or carving, or any other creative thing that would fuel your senses while things are standing still. I mean, really, when have things EVER been standing still?
Children live with abandon until instructed not to. It's when we learn the meaning of no that we stop trying. That's when we let fear take over and warn us to stop. Some of it is for our own good. But some of it needs rekindled about now, because there is enough going on to scare us in this world.
Children have faith that something cool is going to happen the second they jump into that puddle. Tap into that child-like faith today. Trust the experience. Abolish fear. Live. Really live.
I love you. :-)
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©CherieElainePhotography2020
|
Do we quench the spirits of children with rules? In so doing, have our own spirits been quenched?
What is the worst that will happen if you let her jump in that puddle? She will be dirty? Soil her new dress? Be judged by others because she is messy and be a reflection of your parenting skills?
And what is the worst that will happen if you let him roll down that grassy hill where mud awaits his arrival at the bottom? Stained jeans? A dirty tee?
Really, are these so important outcomes that we must tell them no instead of allowing their exploratory spirits to experience the joy of jumping in with both feet?
My mother, bless her heart, would allow me to make mud pies. I would covet the metal tins surrounding last night's dinner of pot pies. Knowing there was mud from the last rain, I waited in anticipation for my next creation.
My grandparents contributed to my love of the outdoors as well.
My Oregon grandparents owned a corner store in Bend, Oregon. Just before opening time they would shoo me outside. I would make a fort under the large bushes in the backyard. Everything from reading to hiding to lighting my first match happened in that personal clubhouse. Even in the summer, the air in the early mornings would be crisp and cold. But the smell of the outdoors....oh I loved that smell. I couldn't wander far, and in fact, didn't really want to. Under bushes and weeping willows, our dog Queenie was my companion and we were content in the yard.
My Wyoming Grandma, now SHE was an outdoors icon. I learned the value of hard work, befriending wildlife, listening to the sound of the river and wild horses running, abating fear of thunderstorms, how to climb a mountain and swing an ax.
I was looking through photographs the other day and came across some of my parents working outdoors as surveyors before my dad would go back to the office to draft out property lines. I saw a lot of beautiful scenery, tagging along with them for work. Climbing mountains and hills took me to places not seen from the road. A camera in hand taught me the value of seeing and sharing places some never see.
This morning, as most of our nation is toiling against the Coronavirus, Covid-19, and we are in shut down mode with the rest of the world, my heart is aching for those moments of outdoor experience. I feel like we have been rendered powerless. When Governor Polis says to "stay away from the mountains," I am hearing "This is a GREAT time to go to the mountains!" Fewer crowds, tourists. And it's warm enough for puddles. I worry about my aging parents, and wonder at the plagues my grandparents, now long gone from this world, lived through.
I don't want to be scared! Cautious? Yes. Wise? Yes. But scared? No. Fear isn't part of experiencing this life well.
The instructions to stay indoors at home, avoid being six feet in proximity to another human, elbow bump rather than shake hands, search multiple outlets to find this week's ration of toilet paper..... this is crazy. Unprecedented in my lifetime.
I think it's a good idea to go puddle-hunting. Find a good stick and some mud and draw pictures in it. Get dirty. Not germ-y. But dirty, with good clean dirt. :-) Schools and churches and a good many businesses are closed. How about we spend some time around the table with our families? Or read that really good book that you've been staring at for weeks now? Try painting, or carving, or any other creative thing that would fuel your senses while things are standing still. I mean, really, when have things EVER been standing still?
Children live with abandon until instructed not to. It's when we learn the meaning of no that we stop trying. That's when we let fear take over and warn us to stop. Some of it is for our own good. But some of it needs rekindled about now, because there is enough going on to scare us in this world.
Children have faith that something cool is going to happen the second they jump into that puddle. Tap into that child-like faith today. Trust the experience. Abolish fear. Live. Really live.
I love you. :-)
 |
©CherieElainePhotography2020
|
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