The longer I am a parent, the more I understand that our children are our intended teachers. It’s designed that way by God. This is because they are closer to The Creator; at some level, children remember to a greater degree of spiritual truths that seemingly become less accessible to adults in the human condition.
Children are enamored by the wonder of life without being crippled by fear or overly concerned with the opinions and acceptance of others.
Over the last month or so I have been truly astounded by my baby son who has evolved from a crawler into a walker. My little Precious MOVES when he is on all fours; I mean this little guy makes tracks from one end of the house to the other! Crawling for him is expeditious and efficient – two really important qualities for anyone who is navigating life.
Through his travels around the living room visiting different toy–friends and familiarizing himself with various pieces of furniture, he quickly became less crawler and more walker. He clearly preferred to be upright, on his feet even though it was the more difficult mobility option.
He would grab the nearest balancing object and then begun the “side shuffle.” He engaged each object, working the circumference of the room until there were no aides left (human or inanimate) – then he went with a quickness on his hands and knees to his next destination – where he could again stand and shuffle, beginning the process again.
Every day he made noticeable gains towards proficiency, and it was clear he was in the early stages of walking. This infant child was taking risks constantly. He had many obstacles and dangers he was totally unaware of that he consistently faced. Undaunted, he continued letting go of his supports in order to go farther and attempt another independent step, much to my heart’s thrill and woe.
There was one aspect of this amazing process that intrigued me and demanded personal reflection – the falling down. This child fell down so many times every day. Left foot forward…Wobble…regain balance… Right foot forward … Wobble… Wobble… Fall. He might fall on his behind, he might fall forward, he might bump his head. The miracle was his tireless getting back up!
I’m sure he fell at least 50 times a day and when he was really stretching himself, I’m certain he fell more. This baby got up after every fall: he didn’t complain, he wasn’t deterred, he wasn’t discouraged. He didn’t stop trying – he was set on mastery. I, on the other hand, was exhausted watching him fall down over and over again.
After numerous goose eggs and bruises, teeters and falls, my baby son could have chosen method of mobility that worked well for him (for a couple of short months). Crawling no longer satisfied him as he understood at some innate level that he was meant to walk. With every attempt, he was mentally and physically stronger and more confident in his abilities and prepared for the next stage of learning. And after a relatively short amount of time, I am proud to report he is now a full-fledged upright, walking human being!
There were two ah-has that resounded while I had the pleasure of watching this astounding process. The first – whatever it is that motivates us as people to achieve a goal is put in us divinely with spiritual certainty. We are meant to achieve it. If we don’t, there is a discontent, an unsettling that resides in us until we do. However, reaching that goal comes with obstacles and tiresome requirements that demand we grow and change. Growth and change are challenging and often not graceful, but incredibly rewarding. We will fall down – again, and again. We mustn’t think about the getting up – we must simply get up, taking the lessons of the last stumble or fall with us to guide our steps with wisdom. We must get up when we are weary, when we are tired, when we are frustrated, when we consciously understand crawling would be easier, though unnatural.
Lesson two – it is our very nature to grow – to do the next thing – to try harder, to reach, to level up in the knowledge and skill. It would be an arguably easier to crawl than learn to walk, but it wouldn’t satisfy us. It wouldn’t give us a challenge or sense of accomplishment. It is our nature to push ourselves.
It has become crystal clear to me that we are divinely designed to evolve in every aspect of our lives. It’s a given that there will be inherent growing pains and hardships on the path of achievement. And so what?! It’s against our human nature to be stagnant – we must quench our spiritual thirst to be the best version of ourselves over and over again, until we literally die trying.
I am so grateful for my beautiful, unapologetic, brave, tenacious walking son. I am anxiously awaiting his need to run.