As seen in our September 28, 2023 Newsletter – Subscribe Here
I recently went camping on BLM land just north of Creede, CO. My wife, daughter and two dogs accompanied me. We found a quaint little creekside fire ring and set up shop for two nights.
My daughter is 2.5 years old, and this is her first outing as a camper. She seems to be at home in a tent, which surprised me slightly, but then again we felt like a 3 week camping road trip with her was accomplishable.
Turns out she is a trooper.
While she does get cranky from the heat and overplaying, she is an explorer. A typical kid in the wilderness. Throwing rocks in the river, chasing butterflies, and her strange fascination with collecting firewood.
This week, “More sticks daddy” are her favorite words in her limited vocabulary. And with that we are off on another adventure to collect whichever stick she sees fit. Some are “too dirty”, while others are “too small” only to be replaced with an even smaller stick of her liking.
I am in her world, and I am fine with it.
But during one of these adventures, we came across a dandelion. Nothing special about this one. In fact, it was one in a field of hundreds. But this specific flower got her excited. “Little Yellow Flower” she yelled! I followed with “Wow!” She was so proud of herself for spotting it.
Then she saw the next one, six inches to the former’s right. “Another yellow flower!”
“Really? no way?!” To which she confirmed “Yeah!” as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And in that moment, she was right. Kids seemingly have a way of bringing you into the moment. The world that us adults see on a macro level, they see on a micro, maybe even microscopic, level. A single black ant can lead them on a wild goose chase as they stare mesmerized by their six legs or whatever else they see in it.
You name the most trivial thing, and a two year old will point, yell, laugh, and be in awe with what exists in the world. And many times it isn’t even so clear as to what they are talking about, with the pointing being the only clue you have to go off of. Their giggles, their babble you must decipher and the irregular emotional breakdown that you must solve… now.
We lose a little bit of this wonder in life. I am not sure what starches it out of us. It is probably just the brain keeping us focused on what it sees as important for survival. Five minutes of staring at one black ant, or the acknowledgement of a single yellow flower aren’t necessarily one of them.
For a 2.5 year old though, all they seemingly care about is absorbing the here and now. There is no planning for retirement or philosophical things to debate. For them, there is just a yellow flower.
And that is beautiful.
So go ahead Sweet Girl, show me those yellow flowers. I need to see them.