One of my favorite things about Monday’s is living next door to a nursery/pre school. Every weekday, I have the delectable pleasure of seeing infants & toddlers being their adorably authentic selves before the worlds preconditions gets its muddy, social paws on them. I think it’s their complete lack of inhibitions and visceral mastery of living in the moment that keeps me most enamored. Even more amusing is watching the child care providers wrestle to influence the group as they move from one activity to the next. As I walk by waving, with my distracting dog, the show really starts to get going. The other day as 9 of them were walking, gripping their yellow rope, one curly haired little blonde- needed to make us all aware that he was not ok. As he walked, his loud wail of a cry grew louder with every step taken. His cry was so guttural and intense…it made everyone within ear distance stop in their tracks to ensure he was ok. Within seconds of realizing he was in no eminent danger, or harm…it was clear he was just having a moment and a good cry to go along with it.
I laughed, because I felt every scream his sweet little body belted out…we all get it & have been there. I feel ya, sweet boy, empathized my head voice to him. Difference is, as functioning adults we don’t get to go around wailing our eyes out when our heart or lives hurt or feel broken. Shit, we barely hold safe space as adults to say/acknowledge an “ouch.”
His relentless crying out loud made me remember an epiphany I had as a new mom. I wanted to be perfect at motherhood, and when my firstborn cried- I had anxiety so thick it almost made me puke. This went on for weeks, as babies typically cry as a form of expression. One day, after not being able to figure out her refusal to be soothed, it dawned on me that she’s just a tiny human. We have bad days, and sometimes feel unhappy…and that’s ok. My baby was simply having a moment, not her best day. From that day on, I felt less obligation to be a perfect mom, and accepted that being her mom didn’t mean my job was to shield her from every unhappiness. Instead, I have been assigned the great privilege of walking by her side as she navigates the inevitable discomforts that come with being human.
I was so grateful to watch this little boy screaming his head off. Not because he was so bereft, but because it’s quite liberating to cry out loud sometimes. I pray he never learns to mask his grief, the way the world has a tendency to convince us into. I pray he always has the courage to hold such space for himself & his own needs when he’s sad. I pray that for all of us. After-all, even rainbows require water from the rain in order to shine.