My three-year old granddaughter, Fia, spends Thursdays with me. She is occasionally too tired to go on our usual adventures. Her pre-school schedule is busy and it takes a lot out of her. She chooses instead to do really simple things such as filling her pockets with tiny pebbles. She then invites me to sit outside and simply do “projects” with her. (That is her word for it). She then proceeds to make little “gardens”. The gardens are nothing more than small rectangles or circles formed by rows of pebbles, sometimes placed for their color and sometimes not.
Because my energy, like hers, is not what it could be, I enjoy this simple activity. How wise of her not to over-reach, to know her little body so well that she chooses when and how to calm down and simply be.
It’s contagious. My days with her are like a long meditation. We often spend time just walking and listening.
One day, because she was transitioning from a crib to a big bed, it was helpful for me to lie down with her until she relaxed into a blissful nap. I lay there in quiet joy and gratitude, noticing her tiny hands with polished fingernails, and matched my breath to hers.
Photo courtesy of Heidi Thompson Webb