Being a witness to a joyful becoming
Because the mornings are single digit temperatures now, in lieu of our beach trips, we went apple picking an organic orchard today, dressed to match Solon’s self-proclaimed “noir” outfit; black leggings and a charcoal sweater. I found a nearby organic orchard available for Lobo and Macintosh u-pick apples. We had our lunch—a chickpea stew with brown rice and homemade spelt bread—on a picnic table in the middle of the orchard. It was so quiet we heard the apples falling from the trees and the happiness of crickets. I love engaging in those family-type activities that make you feel like a collective and make memories for your child. These trips become part of a family story we narrativize before naps or during snack time.
No matter how stressed out or unfulfilled you feel, you have the opportunity to channel the squeals of your child when they see the truck pull up to take you on a ride around the orchard, or when they have reached the last rung of the towering ladder to announce their victory at being able to “by self” rip an “it’s ready” apple off the tree.
I have had enough therapy and listened to enough parenting podcasts, to know it’s not healthy to pretend uncomfortable feelings don’t exist but I also think that negotiating (self-regulating) your emotions is productive. I’m grateful I can re-orient from my self-involved sadness and dissatisfaction to a present eagerness and glee. S doesn’t so much want me to be with his joy, but to be a witness to his becoming joy-full.
“Look, mama” is performative—a directive of relational collectivity in which he wants me to see what and how he sees. I need to look and respond both to the object of inquiry but also to his reaction to the object.
In this relation, I am subsumed as an individual and exist for him and for us to then become an ‘us’. I do this willingly. Tuned into his rhythms and desires, I get to not only feel my feelings (and conveniently pretend they don’t exist when necessary) but I can choose to empathize with his and become full of joy too.
These attunements help me remember that, in part, I do have the life I have always wanted.
—9 september