Today I watched my toddler eat a sandwich. I’d read this article about how when your children grow up you really miss that (crazy and exhausting) toddler phase, and it made me stop and watch my little boy.
He picked up a small triangle of sandwich carefully between his fingers and studied it. He turned it over and switched hands. Then he took his forefinger and pushed it gently into the jam and butter, then held his finger up and studied it. He licked the jam off his finger, swirled it around in his mouth and swallowed. He gave a little nod, then took a bite, chewed it, then swallowed again. Then he just stopped and stared at the sandwich.
Nothing could take his attention away.
My son is an expert at mindfulness. And he’s only 2.
Here I am, significantly older, and trying my hardest to be more mindful. Trying my hardest to stay in the moment and enjoy life’s simple pleasures.
Why does growing up force us to be less mindful? As each year passes, my little boy’s mind will be filled with more and more thoughts of the past, worries about the future and concerns about the present. Sadly, he’ll lose that intense pleasure of a simple jam sandwich.
But right now, life is his to be enjoyed. And as part of getting my balance back I’ll try to experience it with him as much as I can.
Right now, he’s spinning around on the spot happily singing the words to ‘Mary had a little lamb’ and I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.