A Stomping Joy

Watching my middle school-aged son wrestle with his desire for independence while finding comfort in boundaries is entertaining, to say the least. The meltdown over cleaning up a granola bar wrapper and the contentment of knowing what is expected of him is fascinating to watch.

Is it that upsetting that you are expected to throw the empty box of Pop-Tarts into the recycling bin instead of putting it back in the pantry? Which, by the way, is right below you?

Being his father, I have found the answer to those questions to be a resounding “YES!”

Of course, it isn’t enjoyable to him. It is a stage-appropriate resistance to both responsibilities and limitations, a resistance to his belief that the world revolves around him, a pity party because it counters his idea that “I can do whatever I want because I want to,” and a cry over the fact that his desire for hyper-individualism will void meaningful relationships, especially with those that he loves.

Buckle up, buddy; it is just the beginning of the journey.

(I also know that despite his stomping feet, there is inner gratitude because he desires communion with others. In other words, he desires limitations because he knows they keep him safe and ultimately bring him joy. The joy of being in a loving relationship…I will keep this part a secret to his “cool” middle school image and continue to smirk and marvel at the impressive stomping that he can produce!)

I laugh because I know it myself.

I know this not only because I, too, was once a middle school-age “stomper” but am now an occasional adult “stomper.” I still find that accepting my limitations is one of the hardest things to do in life. I also know that failing to deal appropriately with my limitations or the limitations of others will result in some rather childish and shallow behavior.

In a perceived “picture-perfect” world where hyper-individualistic culture reigns, how are we doing as people, a community, a culture? How often do we accept our limitations and ask for help? How might that affect our peace? How often can we accept the limitations of others and offer help? How might that affect the peace of our communities?

Our kids might stomp with their feet because their egos are confronted for the first time, but we take to social media and argue like children. They want to take the last piece of chocolate before anyone else, but we think we deserve anything we want (when most of us already have access to everything we need) while making it harder for those who genuinely need it. Meanwhile, we make it morally heroic to do so.

Watching my son, who is just beginning his life journey, reminds me of the importance of paying attention to my journey and human process. Nothing will affect my children more than not paying attention to that process—the continued process of naming and healing my fears, insecurities, and wounds.

“Nothing has a stronger influence psychologically on their environment and especially on their children than the unlived life of the parent.”

-Carl Jung

There was a little creek near our house in Switzerland where I used to love to walk. It couldn’t have been any wider than 4 feet or so. I used to marvel at the sound and pace of the water, especially for its small size. My boys used to throw leaves and branches into it and watch in hopes of catching them downstream. They would run alongside the flowing water with great anticipation. It created so much joy.

That little 4-foot-wide creek had severe limitations caused by its banks. Banks limited the amount of water it could contain, making the creek very thin and tiny compared to the tremendously strong rivers of the world. Yet banks produced the flow of water that would push the branches frantically down the middle of the creek, thus creating the joy of great wonder in children’s eyes.

The smallness and great limitations of the creek meant nothing to the amount of joy it could produce.

To my son, it might be a simple empty box of Pop-Tarts, but it invites him to the truth that he is not the only person in the world, which will, in turn, give him joy. As adults, it might be that simple argument that we feel we must win, but in our attempt to be respectful, we might give our egos some much-needed rest and feel some peace while at it.

As parents, we laugh, get angry, smile, cry, hug, and fear for our children. It comes with the territory. Yet, the most important thing for us is to pay attention to our limitations and reconcile with them so that we may experience the joys and sorrows of life at a depth that can only make our lives that much richer.

In the end, paying attention to our journey might make watching a pair of 9.5-inch feet stomp around the house so much fun. Then again, as adults, it could also invite us into a more humane society where we choose to listen to one another rather than be angry.

I say, together, let’s stomp our way into communion!!