Daily Practice.

luca kayak

I am terrible at playing with my kids. But, I am good at getting my kids outside. A lot. We paddle boats, hike the hills, ride our bikes, and swim in Goose Creek. Our big, Wyoming backyard is my favorite distraction anytime of the year, but in the summer time we pack in the sunshine and water. We stretch our days out like sugary taffy. Current parenting clichés harp about screen time and nature deficit disorder, but for us being outside is like brushing our teeth – it is just what we do. That doesn’t always mean we stop to appreciate it.

I don’t have much down time in my day. Even in the summer when I’m not teaching, I throw all of myself into parenting and running a household. My boys are fun and independent, but managing (and feeding!) two, tween boys is busy. Earlier this summer I made a pact with some friends to consciously slow down, but as the summer passes, even five minutes of dedicated slowness seems impossible.frank in fishing hat

And then this weekend stillness hit me in the most unexpected place. My youngest son and I set out to paddle across a lake near our family cabin. It was the longest distance my nine-year-old has paddled in one shot. The wind was blowing hard, right in our faces. The other end of Meadowlark Lake seemed miles away. But the sun was high in the sky and the mountains shimmered above the lake. Our paddles dipped quietly in and out of the cold, high country water. And Luca whined. Not just a little complaining, but full on screeching about the wind and the waves and the distance. About the sun and the clouds and the water. About everything. I tried all of my outdoor super mommy tricks: singing, knock-knock jokes, chocolate bribes. He just couldn’t put his head down and paddle.

frank photo bombSo, I ignored him. I pulled and pushed my oar through the green waves. I focused on the resistance of the water in my shoulders and elbows. I welcomed the hot sun on my neck and the wind on my face. I fell into a rhythm of muscle and water.frank and fish

After about five minutes I talked Luca through my movements. I ignored his protests as I narrated each stroke. Listen to your paddle dip, I said. Feel the wind against your face. Pull through the water. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him let out a breath. I watched him dip his head and pull his boat against the wind. He was quiet. Ten minutes later, Luca spotted his brother and dad fishing near the end of the lake. They had lunch and fishing poles ready for us. Luca paddled the last five hundred yards fast. He held his head high and smiled. When we pushed our boats up on the beach for a picnic, he asked if he could paddle back to the truck after lunch.

boys and raftsI will never know if my accidental meditation helped my son paddle the distance across our favorite lake, but I know that I found that elusive place of presence that my girlfriends and I talked about. I’d found a daily practice amid the chaos of parenting, not separate from it. I’m good at taking my kids outside. I am good at making adventures for our family. I‘d like to be as good at helping them appreciate the experience.  ~ Sarah
dock jump

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