Cutting Your Own Path

What reminds you that winter is over?

For me, it’s when the tulips and daffodils finally bloom. They are at full peak where I live and are a constant reminder that warmer weather is coming. This winter was bitter cold and gray. The sun and blooming colors is doing all of us well. There is nothing better than walking down a path or street that’s bursting with different colors. It’s quite glorious.

My sons know that winter is over when we go outside more, and this year the occasion was marked with their bike riding. My youngest has finally learned how to ride his bike to where he can really enjoy it. It was a struggle for him to learn — getting started was what tripped him up.  Getting started with any new task we are learning can trip us up, right?

I was talking to a friend who is going through a career change. She has struggled with cutting her own path (I think something many of us can relate to). It reminded me of how my son struggled to learn to ride. He convinced himself the path he needed to take to learn to ride was too unfamiliar, would take skills he didn’t have and couldn’t master. He was struggling with unfamiliar domain. I shared with her my passion for teaching my boys how to make their own way in the world and help show them how to cut their own path. It had made me think about how when you navigate something new, it’s like looking at an overgrown path littered with brush that you have to cut away. At first, hacking at the brush can be tough, unfamiliar and even scary, but after a while, you figure out how to do it and start getting better at making a clearing you can pass through.  When you emerge into the clearing you appreciate the path you’ve made and the place you’ve arrived. I’m not planning to take my children to the jungle or give them a machete to clear brush, but I do want them to know that they have it in them to get from the can’t (ride my bike) to the can (I did it!). Much like the seasons. You sometimes have to make your way through until you make it to the other side. It’s worth it, the scenery at the end is incredible.

How are you teaching your child to make their own way?

In Full Bloom

What’s your favorite part about Spring?

Where I live, Spring has arrived. Trees, crocuses, daffodils and many other plants are in bloom. The beauty is so abundant it often takes my breath away. But I know it’s fleeting, and soon the blooms will be gone, replaced by green leaves or flowers that are wilting.

We have one plant in our yard that continues to be the first to let us know Spring is here. It always seems to show it’s buds and blooms before all the other plants. It’s an early bloomer, I suppose. There’s some unspoken comfort I experience when that plant comes to life. That winter, and the harsher conditions that come with us, won’t last forever. It’s like a warm blanket that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay.

My sons often sigh when I point out the beauty around us. Where I live, there is much of it — snow capped mountains in the distance, blooms all around. I never get tired of it. My kids haven’t known any other scenery so they aren’t quite as impressed, though I think  my awe gets them to reconsider how they view what’s around them. At least, I hope it does.

How do you experience Spring? How does your child?

 

Spring is in the Air

As I walked out of the house, rushing to get everyone in the car something caught my eye: blossoms on one of our bushes. While I had just been in a hurry to get to my car, I allowed myself a moment to examine the plant more closely. Were there more blooms? Would there be more soon? The one I was looking at was so beautiful.

My children, who I was busy hustling out to the car only moments earlier, noticed that I had stopped. “What is it Mom?” my oldest asked. “Look at this,” I said. Both boys came over to see what I was looking at.

I never tire of the beauty that comes with Spring. Daffodils blooming, tulips starting to grow. The blooms in white, purple, pink and yellow that come to life. For me, it’s a magical time of year. The natural beauty I’m experiencing is both comforting and humbling.  It is so powerful it’s no wonder I felt compelled to have my children experience it with me.

My son’s joined me by the bush. “Oh, there’s a flower,” my son said. “Oh, yea, and there’s another,” my youngest added. They both examined the bush in search of more blooms. It was one of those moments where you’re both present in your surroundings and fully engaged with the people around you–rare and special, in my opinion.

Once we finished examining the plant, we proceeded to the car. “More flowers are coming,” I commented. My son asked, “how do you know?” and while I could have said ‘this is the time of year that plants start to bloom,’ I decided to respond based on how I felt, “I can feel it in the air, can’t you?” My sons nodded in agreement. It made me smile.

How do you experience the beauty of nature with your child? What season is most magical for you?