#187: Falling Down is the Answer
One of the biggest values at the research school I'm interning at is inquiry-based learning - on a daily basis, there's a huge emphasis in every subject area in fostering an environment that is student-led, giving the children the reins to decide how to go about their understandings and growth. They amaze me every day with all they're able to figure out due to the freedom and creativity they have to critically think and discover truths. And as I watch their every little move and thought process, I too take home a lesson with me. Jaime's experience with her baby girl sheds light on one of the many ways to find answers by watching our youth navigate this complex world. Thanks for sharing Jaime, and for this great reminder to get some fresh air out in nature during this time of uncertainty.
Sending out health and happiness to all.
- Amanda
Falling Down Is The Answer
A few months or more ago, I began greatly reducing the amount of times I help Ellie. Can’t reach something up on a shelf? Oh well. Getting frustrated when her ball rolls under the table, just out of reach. Ugh, bummer. Trips and falls? Even drops her head and whimpers a little? I get a little closer, offer some words or perhaps a rub on the back if it seemed to frighten her, but for the most part, I’m working on giving up “saving her” from her own problems.
As you can imagine, it’s really quite important for babies and toddlers to struggle…and to learn to work through that struggle on their own. But, as you can also imagine, it feels a little cruel as an adult/parent watching your toddler get upset about something when you can very easily chime in and make it all better.
I suppose we human-adults also have an inclination to want to do this for other adults in our lives.
I was outside walking in the woods with Ellie yesterday. She was really enjoying the day and showing a particular amount of determination. For some reason, this notion of “not helping” comes much easier to me outdoors. So, I was standing nearby watching my 1 year old daughter struggle trying to walk over something. Her foot kept getting caught on a root or something and she was also trying to go uphill (she just learned to walk a couple months ago) so this new terrain was challenging. She kept trying and trying but she couldn’t seem to get her foot over or around the big root. Of course, I was scanning the area for rocks and other things that could potentially cause her serious harm, but I didn’t spot anything so I let her go at it independently. She began to express her frustration and upset until, finally, she fell down. She paused for a minute. Seemed to regroup on her own. And then decided to try crawling up the hill.
She hasn’t crawled in months. Since she started to walk, she essentially forgot how to crawl, as she is constantly banging her head under tables and things.
It’s kinda silly but I really had an epiphany watching her in that moment. She went from trying and trying and trying to walk up that hill and get her unbalanced body and feet over uneven ground for quite awhile before she finally surrendered. Fell down. Paused. And then tried something totally new. Perhaps she realized she could try crawling only after she had exhausted the habitual side of her brain that had become wired to only think in terms of walking.
I know one of the premises of this group is “student-mindedness” but like all things I become comfortable with, something I forget. Sometimes, my own knowledge and expertise and life experiences hold me back from seeing things in a new light where a new solution is just waiting for me to clear my brain and see it.
I’ve felt a bit lost lately in motherhood. I have other passions and interests in me that are dying to be pursued and I can’t seem to find a way to manage the mother-load. It’s so hard when I’m in it treading water. I just keep telling myself “I can do a little more” and “it's not so bad” and in reality, I’m sorta burnt out and paddling in circles (but I don’t see that right away). In watching Ellie fall and then figure it out on her own, something in me released. I said to myself, “Maybe falling down is not an accident or a mistake. What if it’s not a boo boo? What if it’s the answer?”
It looks to me as if Ellie sees that hill in the woods differently now when we go out there.
Me? I’m still practicing the art of surrender a little less effortlessly. But I do have a new awareness of it now, and in the moments I’m able to catch myself, I put down the oars, realizing I’m spinning in circles, and I surrender to letting myself float for a minute. In real life this usually looks like me laying on my yoga mat for a few breaths or more, but sure enough when I’m done I’ve drifted in a new direction that looks way better than where I had been going.