I love entertaining guests.
Numerous times in the past I have had friends or family over, and included in the guestlist were their young children.
Now, I’m no stranger to children – in fact I adore them. I find them to be the highlight of life and the most interesting people in the room at any given time – bar none. Sometimes however, having a young child running around pushing every physical boundary in your home without any care for their own safety can be a little overwhelming.
I remember thinking on one of these occasions how tiresome it was entertaining one of these children in particular as they ran around my house non stop. “How does any parent deal with this 24/7?” I thought, “Am I just not cut out for this?” I asked myself. Just thinking about dealing with such a child of my own doing the same thing day in and day out was exhausting, and maybe I just wasn’t as capable of it as I imagined I would be.
Fast forward a few years and I find myself in the grateful position of being a Father to the most wonderful boy. Needless to say, I have begun to experience the same running around, loud sounds of furniture and accessories being ‘challenged’ and all round excitement that comes with the package.
And yet, I feel completely at ease.
How did this happen? How did I go from someone who felt overwhelmed at young children running around my house to someone who completely at ease with it?
Looking at my son as he explores every inch of our house, I realised how this transformation had occurred.
Strength Through Trial
As a newborn, babies stay exactly where you put them.
Whether it be wrapped up on the sofa or lying down on the floor, they simply cannot move. There is no possibility of them following you around, they can barely lift their heads. And yet as the weeks and months fly by, you notice their limbs strengthen and their natural yearning for movement materialise.
One month they can lift their heads up, the next they heroically attempt to master a tummy roll. One moment they can hold a standing a position for a few seconds, then months later they take their first steps.
Looking back now, all those moments seem like they passed in a flash. I can just about remember my Son crawling to my desk clamouring for my reaction as I see him enter, now I am the welcome host to a smiling visitor walking into rooms where I am as he proudly pushes the door open in expectant glee.
And yet, despite my initial feelings of all these events happening so quickly – honest reflection allows me to instead realise that everything occurred slowly and sequentially.
Each of those time periods lasted just long enough for me to adapt and get used to. Putting my son down on the ground as I stood above him praying became the norm for months. Then he began to learn how to turn over. Before I knew it, weeks had passed and he could do it at will. Weeks and months where my Son would half-crawl, dragging one leg while using the other as his propellent slowly gave way to full crawls, and then his first steps.
Now, he runs.
At no point was I ever overwhelmed at his abilities. I had enough time to savour each moment, adapt my expectations and simply enjoy each stage. Everything happened sequentially in perfect harmony.
And this too is how nature works. Glaciers move over centuries, rivers carve themselves into rocks over millennia, some trees grow to full strength over hundreds of years. As Bertrand Russel says, “The rhythm of Earth life is slow..” [1]. And it is during this slowness of pace, this glacial march forth in development, that we in turn are able to adapt and gather the strength to deal with the realities we face.
The strength we need to deal with the realities of life often develops and blossoms in response to our situations. Scenarios in which one would imagine themselves to be utterly incapable can turn even the softest of characters into paragons of resilience. Parenthood is just another catalyst for change and a harbinger of strength and patience. To quote what is possibly my favourite line from a childhood show:
“Power comes in response to a need, not a desire.” [2]
Like any Parent, I now look back at memories from just a year ago and see versions of my Son that I simply cannot remember existing. What seemed to be normal then is entirely mystical and wonderous now. What was life like with a chubbier, smaller version of my Son? Perhaps too the version of me from back then would look at myself today with a sense of impending dread and anxiousness, wondering how I today am coping with the assumed chaos.
But I in turn would reply that I am doing fine. I too have grown, I too have adapted to my environment. I have been granted the strength and patience needed to survive the day.
Everything is fine.
And everything will be fine.
References
[1] – Bertrand Russel, The Conquest of Happiness[2] – Goku, Dragon Ball Z