Lessons from the little ones

Yesterday I went to meet a friends twenty month old grandson. He just stared at me. And then he noticed my toes that were painted black. And he stared at them. He would walk slowly right up to me and lean against me for a second then back away. He did this a couple of times. It was so interesting our introduction. He was completely feeling me out deciding about me.

I loved watching him. And I told him, "I feel the same sometimes when I meet new people. I just want to keep looking at them really closely for a long time but I am a grown up and I cannot." Instead as grown ups we have to check people out more subtly. We sneak surreptitious glances at them, looking at them. There's no way we could just gently lean against them and feel their energy. Staring at them for five or ten minutes would just be odd. But children are allowed to this and somehow it makes perfect sense when they do.

In the afternoon at supper my friends came out with their two year old. I have met him maybe ten times before and he too stared me down once or twice. He has often come into the studio to visit and mostly he ignores me. Yesterday after being at my house for a few hours and going up the back stairs and coming down the front stairs fifteen times, and playing with my children's old toys on the carpet by the fire he relaxed with me. And this is how I know. In all the times I met my little friend he has never once touched me. Yesterday in the yard when he was going to the car he reached up and took my hand. That little hand holding mine told me we were finally friends. 

I love children and their unabashed way of being. They teach me when I am with them. I watch them and I see so much. Staring at you, taking their time to warm up, playing freely, eating little bites of this and that. Demanding what they want in the moment. Getting tired and laying their head on their fathers' shoulder. They do what they need to do when they need too.

And to think we all start out like this. Little free spirits. Untamed and acting straight from our heart. I guess that means we still have it in us. Each of us has that little free spirit.

I like to think of mine as my little art spirit. The part of me that is still the way I was when I was a child. Purely curious responding to the moment. That part of me that is free and just leans into the moment. When I am hooking a big rug I find her and welcome her back. She is willing to get lost and let go in play. She does not worry what others are thinking. She is deep in the moment of her own time. I cannot call upon her instantaneously. She likes to be quietly cajoled and welcomed back. To access her I have to show up and work, and she comes out when she feels like it. She comes out enough that I know she is there, because I show up and do the work.

Being with children reminds me of my own children, but also of myself growing up. When I went to bed last night I felt really grateful for my day with them. For the fun I had and for their honesty. Watching them just be themselves, no guile, no second thoughts inspires me to be more like them. To just ask the question, to smile deeply at someone so they know I like them, to explore and to wander a new space.

To remain close to my little art self is to remain close to my childhood. All the lessons I learned yesterday are fresh in my mind today. And I am heading to the studio fresh and ready for a new day. If I meet you for the first time today, I'll try not to stare but you can be sure I'll be looking closely. I hope you get to spend time with children soon. They got so much to teach us.

I loved watching him. And I told him, "I feel the same sometimes when I meet new people. I just want to keep looking at them really closely for a long time but I am a grown up and I cannot." Instead as grown ups we have to check people out more subtly. We sneak surreptitious glances at them, looking at them. There's no way we could just gently lean against them and feel their energy. Staring at them for five or ten minutes would just be odd. But children are allowed to this and somehow it makes perfect sense when they do.

In the afternoon at supper my friends came out with their two year old. I have met him maybe ten times before and he too stared me down once or twice. He has often come into the studio to visit and mostly he ignores me. Yesterday after being at my house for a few hours and going up the back stairs and coming down the front stairs fifteen times, and playing with my children's old toys on the carpet by the fire he relaxed with me. And this is how I know. In all the times I met my little friend he has never once touched me. Yesterday in the yard when he was going to the car he reached up and took my hand. That little hand holding mine told me we were finally friends. 

I love children and their unabashed way of being. They teach me when I am with them. I watch them and I see so much. Staring at you, taking their time to warm up, playing freely, eating little bites of this and that. Demanding what they want in the moment. Getting tired and laying their head on their fathers' shoulder. They do what they need to do when they need too.

And to think we all start out like this. Little free spirits. Untamed and acting straight from our heart. I guess that means we still have it in us. Each of us has that little free spirit.

I like to think of mine as my little art spirit. The part of me that is still the way I was when I was a child. Purely curious responding to the moment. That part of me that is free and just leans into the moment. When I am hooking a big rug I find her and welcome her back. She is willing to get lost and let go in play. She does not worry what others are thinking. She is deep in the moment of her own time. I cannot call upon her instantaneously. She likes to be quietly cajoled and welcomed back. To access her I have to show up and work, and she comes out when she feels like it. She comes out enough that I know she is there, because I show up and do the work.

Being with children reminds me of my own children, but also of myself growing up. When I went to bed last night I felt really grateful for my day with them. For the fun I had and for their honesty. Watching them just be themselves, no guile, no second thoughts inspires me to be more like them. To just ask the question, to smile deeply at someone so they know I like them, to explore and to wander a new space.

To remain close to my little art self is to remain close to my childhood. All the lessons I learned yesterday are fresh in my mind today. And I am heading to the studio fresh and ready for a new day. If I meet you for the first time today, I'll try not to stare but you can be sure I'll be looking closely. I hope you get to spend time with children soon. They got so much to teach us.