If Only We Had the Patience and Knowledge at 30 that We Do at 60
Life would have been less stressful
Randy and I are babysitting our grandchildren for one hour each morning before school. It is a pretty simple gig, and we enjoy the time with the kids. However, we have noticed we move at a different pace than when we were parents. The pace of life when we were younger created permanent stress and if I had to begin over again, it would be different.
For instance, this morning, Randy picked the girls up at their house. Dense fog made it difficult to see any distance, and flecks of ice flocked the trees creating a beautiful scene. When those ice crystals covered the driveway, the situation changed from beautiful to dangerous. Once Kinsley and Timberley crawled into the backseat, Tim remembered her dad said he would help her put her watch on, so she announced she had to go back into the house.
Randy said no because it was too slippery and offered to help fasten the timepiece. Tim reminds me of Dagney, our dog, and shares her stubborn characteristics. So, like a dog with a bone, she insisted that Dad had to do it. Randy said no.
What happened next is predictable for anyone who has been around a 5-year-old for more than 10 minutes. Timberley sprawled out on the backseat, buried her head in her coat, and pouted.
This is where patience and knowledge miraculously appeared for my husband. Knowing how he responded would predict the climate for the remainder of the morning he said, “We will go when you fasten the seatbelt.” Then he took out his phone and began reading the news. They only sat in the driveway for a few moments before he heard the metal snap that signaled a victory, placed the car in drive and came home.
Years ago, as young parents, a rush of thoughts and emotions would have directed this event down a different path. The deadline of needing to get the kids fed breakfast and to school on time would have prompted a more urgent response. “Put your seatbelt on! . . .Tim, do it now! . . . Don’t make me come back there?” Yes, she eventually would have been strapped in but not after a fight that would have ended with no clear winner.
Age has taught us how to end conflicts end with everyone unhappy. Trying to force correct behavior only models impatience, anger and frustration. We once believed that getting the kids to school on time was a reflection on our parenting skills. Now, we realize, if the granddaughters are late for school the world would not end, and nobody would fault us for having a rough morning. Life happens.
When Randy walked in the house this morning with the girls, I had slices of apples, and 2 bowls cereal waiting beside glasses of milk. Everyone was smiling. There was no mention of the event because it didn’t evolve into a conflict worth remembering. When I flashback to my own parenting in similar situations, my head hangs in shame. We had so much to do and so little time to do it that stress fed anxiety. If I could do it all over again, I would breathe slower and take time to read the news while allowing the children time to make better decisions.
This reflection really resonates.
In Code Bản Thể, we call it living with the autoflow field the radiation from Root Qi that doesn’t rush, but expands steadily.
It’s like a kettle heating water: at first, nothing seems to change, then suddenly it boils. Wisdom and patience flow the same way invisible at the start, undeniable later.