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Somewhere, recently, I read *and cannot find*
a sweet post about the importance and value of waiting.
Waiting for our children, being patient.
Waiting for them as our gift to them.
Waiting out of respect for them.
I even left a comment, about how this was close to my heart,
as I am working with the idea of "staying".
*Stay* when it is uncomfortable,
whether it is a yoga pose,
or a child having a tantrum.
(If someone knows what post I'm speaking of, PLEASE let me know!)
Last night I waited....
.....and waited....
......and waited some more.....
....as Laurel was engaged in arranging a few trinkets and toys.
It was bedtime, actually long past bedtime,
but it had been a really lovely evening,
and I saw no harm in (and really every reason to)
*waiting* for her to finish....
.....waiting for her to complete her work.
For children, play is work.
Play is not an extracurricular activity,
that only comes after the 'real' work.
I've been suffering from anxiety, panic attacks
and living in a state of extreme excitability and agitation
for quite a while now.
To put it mildly, it is a very uncomfortable way to live.
So it is a challenge for me to slow down,
to wait
to stay.
So I decided it would be helpful to document
Laurel's purposeful, meaningful and important work of play.
Four hair clips
Two rubber duckies
a change box
some receipts
and a hair band
Elapsed time: exactly 7 minutes
I can wait 7 minutes.
I want to wait 7 minutes.
I was a quiet but attentive observer,
paying attention to every little movement.
Calming the excited and anxious and hurried feelings
that have been a part of my daily living for months.
Feelings that I know will be back,
that in fact are back as I'm writing this,
but feelings that for those moments I could push aside.
Looking forward to a time when I can patiently wait,
patiently stay
while shoes, socks, clothes, are being put on,
without having my insides bursting with "NOW!! HURRY!! GO!!"
Learning to 'stay' through the anxiety,
through the physical manifestations of a panic attack,
learning to calm them before the rise to levels beyond control.
While I superficially I could say that my children are the very reason *for* the anxiety,
that isn't quite right.....
they just bring it to my attention.
They also are incredible motivators for healing.
The thought that I'm guiding three humans along in this world.
So I'm taking steps to address this part of myself.
One way is to just physically slow down.
Don't multitask.
Move slowly, purposefully.
Speak with measured quiet intentional words.
I often forget, and relapse into moving through the world like a tornado,
talking quickly, loudly, with my mind racing and my thoughts literally tripping over each other,
my words jumping ahead of one another.
I can wait 7 minutes.
I can be present for 7 minutes.
I want to be present for 7 minutes.
I can be present for the very important work of a 4 1/2 year old,
arranging pennies,
nickles, hairclips
and plastic ducks
just
so.
~ carrie ~
