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A Stomping Joy

This entry is part [part not set] of 152 in the series A 5-Minute Holiday
This entry is part [part not set] of 151 in the series A 5-Minute Holiday

Watching my middle school-year-old boy wrestle with his desire for independence while at the same time finding comfort in boundaries is entertaining, to say the least. The meltdown over cleaning up a granola bar wrapper combined with the contentment of knowing what is expected of him is a fascinating thing to watch.

I mean really, is it that upsetting to you 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 is upsetting to him. It is a stage appropriate resistance to both responsibilities and limitations. It is a resistance to his belief that the world revolves around him. It is a pity party because it counters his idea that “I can do whatever I want because I want to”. It is 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 to be in communion with others. In other words, he desires limitations because he knows it keeps him safe and ultimately brings 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 really impressive stomping that he can produce!)

I laugh because I know it myself.

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

In a perceived “picture perfect” world where the hyper-individualistic culture reign, how are we doing as people, a community, a culture? How often do we accept our own 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 with each other like children. They want to take the last piece of chocolate before anyone else but we think we deserve anything that we want (when most of us already have access to everything that we need) while making it harder for those who truly do need it. Meanwhile, we make it morally heroic to do so.

Watching my son who is just beginning his journey in life, reminds me of the importance of paying attention to my own journey as well. That is, paying attention to my own human process in life. For there is nothing that will affect my children more than not paying attention to that process. The continued process of both naming and healing of 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. A creek with severe limitations formed by its banks. Banks that limited the amount of water it could contain making the creek very thin and tiny compared to the great strong rivers of the world. Yet banks that 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 the eyes of children.

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

It might be a simple empty box of Pop-Tarts to my son, but it invites him into the truth that he is not the only person in the world, which in return will 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 ego’s some much-needed rest and feel some peace while we are at it.

As parents, we laugh, we get angry, we smile, we cry, we hug, and we fear for our children. It comes with the territory I guess. Yet, maybe the most important thing for us to do is to pay attention to our own 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 own journey, at the very least, might make watching a pair of 9.5 size feet stomping around the house oh 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!!

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In search of the good, the true, and the beautiful. Here are some moments along the way.

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