There is a little elf-child walking, yes walking, around the yurt these days. He pushed himself up on Sunday, but instead of waving his hands and letting out some sort of happy announcement of a yell as I’ve come accustomed to, he put one foot forward, and then another, and through some wobbling kept coming all the way to me, a distance of perhaps 5 feet. The rest of the day, he stood and stepped and fell and stood and stepped and fell, and kept going with his little legs gaining strength and balance all the while.
I look at Waylon and wonder at the persistence he has. What would the world be like if we held onto this beyond our toddler years? This ability to fall down and get back up without a second thought, to take our falls with smiles and to stand again with determination and excitement? I’ve made the decision to follow my passions, to be fully alive and present in this life. It’s something that became even more important when Waylon was born. I want to give him the example of full living, and of creating a life that truly brings us alive. But sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes being fully present and alive means being fully with uncomfortable feelings and accepting the harder moments. It takes so much persistence to keep going.
But Waylon, he keeps going, and he does it joyfully. I’m learning that he already lives the way I want to show him—that he is the one giving me the example of full living. Those hard, uncomfortable moments are simply the fall, the burn of muscles strengthening, and with persistence I can breathe through the wobble and find balance again.
Thank you, my little boy.