Sam and I watched the sky creep from a dark blue to an indigo that seemed to glow like it was backlit. His little eyes wide with the amazement of the world, taking in the movement of the wind on the branches of the pine tree, the glow of neighbors porch lights. How much to experience anew through the wide eyes of a child...gratitude for the beauty that abounds and our luck to be surrounded by nature. I want Sam to be able to build forts, construct fairy houses, find the joy in collected pine cones or pebbles...I want to be more conscious of how much I am on my phone or in front of this screen when I am around him. I want to raise a sensitive, thoughtful, respectful, loving, open boy. And those thoughts scare the shit out of me.
I worked with Journey's School middle schoolers yesterday as part of a Dancers' Workshop residency. I couldn't stop observing the boys in the room, their energy bouncing off the four walls, their young minds racing from topic to topic. Picturing Sam as a young boy, how he might be, what sort of personality he might have. What sort of parent will I be? How will our relationship be with one another? The thought of transitioning from being purely a nurturer (what I am now) to a parent sounds so daunting, yet also completely amazing. To help shape another and both guide them and release them when necessary is one of the greatest honors I can think of.