SubscribeYesterday, I stood back and observed my younger daughter at preschool. She didn’t know I was watching. In fact, she was quite a distance away in the far play yard, and I was inside peering out a window. She was headed out to Toad Mountain, a big hill with a tunnel in the middle surrounded by grassy fields and playground equipment. Toad Mountain is also a place that the goats sometimes like to play along side the children. Yes, goats! The school has a strong science and nature focus and is home to three goats and several chickens. Jo, all of three years old, has a wild imagination and is creative and resourceful — a great problem-solver.
Several days before, during a similar play excursion, she clung to her teacher’s hand declaring her dislike of the goats. This was understandable since they practically stand eye-to-eye and the goats do love to nibble! While the other kids were milling about, running up and down Toad Mountain, there she stood, seemingly trapped and unable to play in this adventurous expanse because the goats were roaming free.
Yesterday, however, was different. As I watched a surge of kids burst through the gates into the fields surrounding Toad Mountain and disburse, an interesting thing happened. Rather than follow the kids and the goats, Jo stopped. She scoped out the situation, watched where everyone was going, waited for several seconds, and then burst into motion going in a completely different direction. She came at the Mountain and the kids and goats from a completely different direction. And from several hundreds of yards away, I could feel that she was empowered.
From her last encounter with the goats, she knew what she didn’t like. When she set out to be with them this time, she recognized it. Even from a distance I could see her calculating her next move, developing a strategy and then bursting forth to have fun and interactive play, on her own terms. I was happy that she was able to enjoy herself and proud that she found her own way.
When you find yourself in a situation that doesn’t work for you, how do you respond? Do you resign yourself? Take shelter? Or, do you find a new way?
Are you in a job, or a career for that matter, or even a routine that isn’t working for you? What would it be like to change what you did, where you did it, or how you did it? What would it be like to simply change the way you looked at it? What creative ways of dealing with it might present themselves if you looked at it through a different lens, perhaps even that of a child?
Have you experienced a shift in your way of doing or being as a result of interactions with or observations of a child? If so, please share your story here.