I feel like I reflect on this often: how busy life can be, how many of the little things that are so easily lost in the hustle and bustle.
Part of my struggle as a mom is to recognize the need that, more than anything else, my kids (and my husband) need to know that every minute I have with them is meaningful to me. That doesn’t mean life has to be epic and suffocating and completely planned out (in order to maximize doing things), but rather to do every little thing with purpose.
I am a doer, a go-getter, a leader. My mind is usually going 100 miles an hour. I am thinking, planning, dreaming, hoping, discovering. And yet, my problem is that sometimes when I am doing all that, I am failing to sit back and listen and just be.
I am aware of my own personal weaknesses. This is one of them.
My kids are teaching me about life through the questions they ask (again and again and again….until they get a satisfactory answer.) How do I explain what purpose a graveyard has, what death means? How do I live in reality and yet shelter them from their own misguided conclusions to content they are prematurely exposed to? How do get a 3 year old to understand that that cool old building we are hiking past is from so many years ago (and has so much history far beyond his understanding?) It’s complex. It’s life.
This weekend, as we headed out to the woods for a fall camping trip, I made a very concious choice to completely tune in. I heard every question, I contemplated my own questions. Yes, of course, I was still frustrated by little things (like full on tantrums in a pile of dirt) and the whining from tired kids. But, I caught the moments. I unplugged, I didn’t think a thing about anything at home and I just enjoyed my family 100%. It was awesome. And the kids noticed too – they didn’t want to come home.
These are just some of those moments, a little glimpse into our life:
Do you find it easier to direct your focus when in the wilderness or do you find yourself thinking (deeply) more than you do at home? Do you completely unplug or let your phone, etc. remain with you?
© 2012, Tales of a Mountain Mama. All rights reserved. Republication, in part or entirety, requires a link back to this original post and permission from the author.