The morning rush, the gift of the present
As adults, our minds wander through the hours of the day, thoughts of both past and future flowing through our consciousness as we endeavour to remain in the present, to carry out the never ending “to do” list while shouldering the many worries of the world. As we rush through the morning ticking off tasks…
lunch box… breakfasts… clean clothes… school bag packed… work bag… mail to post… washing hung… dishes done… pets fed… heater off… beds made (or not!)… lights off… curtains open… towels hung… benches wiped…
…before being swept out our front door and towards the day ahead, whatever it may hold, our children play on our periphery, just below our eye level, close to the earth. Perhaps they play, perhaps they demand attention in one way or another, perhaps we do or don’t have the capacity to give that attention amongst our thousand other things. But what we can notice is their propensity to remain in the present.
While our lists are squarely based in ensuring the day runs smoothly our children’s thoughts remain in the here and now.
Determined to make their own breakfast, they will not give a second thought to the trail of debris they have left behind, the puddle of milk spreading behind the bowl, drip, drip, dripping off the table. They do not see it. They see that bowl of cereal, delicious because they made it themselves.
Engrossed in play, soft toys lined up and ready to listen, intricate characters and plotlines sprawled over the floor, we pick our way through without seeing as we reach to collect the overdue library books from the floor in front of the shelves.
Half way through dressing, much to our disdain, they notice a something through the window and rush out the back door, barefoot and wild, unhindered by the dewy ground that makes us hesitate as we step out to call them back in to put their top on. Please darling, we are running late, you need to get dressed!
As adults, this lack of motivation to move forward, to be ready, to stay on task and tick the boxes can challenge us to our very core. If we are feeling rushed the effort it takes to shepherd our children through these hurried times can exasperate us, leave us feeling overwhelmed and using language that pulls children from their present moment.
“Come on! Hurry up! We are going to be late! Get a wriggle on!”
But if we take some time to reflect, we realise that through our meditations, our medications, our self help books, our yoga, our gurus and our mental health professionals, these children who are playing on our periphery of our lists hold the gift that they are trying to lead us back to.
The present moment.
An unshakable presence in the here and now. The present moment, the bowl of cereal, the make believe, the noticing.
When your children are not getting their shoes on, when they just need to finish drawing this picture before they get out the front door, when they stop to collect dewdrops on their tongue as they are walking to the car, take a moment to bring yourself to that present moment too.
Just imagine having no to do list, a firm knowledge that the day ahead will flow as it is meant to, the flooding thoughts of past and future, of adulthood, being kept at bay by the magic that is childhood.
There is no magic key to the morning lists if our life is in a place where we need them, however a gentle, predictable rhythm and twice the time you think you may need can certainly be helpful!
