Interlude for Lisa’s Philosophical Ramblings

Human nature is, for the most part, absurd— and children are examples of human nature painted in bold colors. I’ve realized over the past week that, back home, I don’t see children often enough, don’t take the time to observe them or become a part of their world. This is a mistake, because children have a lot to teach us, both through their virtues and their faults. Here are some things I’ve been reminded of when I watch children trying to make sense of their world:

We want the new and overlook what we already have. Of course it’s ridiculous that a child scrabbles for a hamburger when there’s one sitting on his plate, but we do this in some form or another every day. It’s easy to be annoyed with a child for crying because he’s not allowed to have ice cream for breakfast— but we forget to see the silliness of feeling sorry for ourselves because we can’t afford to buy that pair of jeans we wanted.

We want to do things our way, even if an easier path exists. We’d rather labor over counting out 112 + 13 on our fingers instead of using the digit-adding our dad explained earlier. Children give up on very easy problems, but good parents encourages (or sternly orders) them to try, because they knows that the child is capable, even if he stubbornly tells himself that he’s not. As grown-ups, we do the same thing: we insist that the temptation is too great, the stress is too much, the bills are too high, the challenge is too hard. If we knew just how capable we are of handling everything that life throws our way, we’d be shocked.

We don’t understand that our actions have consequences. Sure, when we grow up we (hopefully) realize that throwing rocks in the neighbor’s yard isn’t the best idea, and yet we are completely blind to the consequences of telling a white lie, of brushing off an inner prompting, of eating too much food, or of obsessively checking Facebook. In a month or a year, any “small” vice may be the foothold that opens a person up to horrors he couldn’t imagine before. The ripples, both physical and spiritual, extend far beyond what we can comprehend.

Most of all, we have very little sense of perspective. We constantly misread our situation and what defines “our own good.” Time is hugely distorted for children, but almost as much for grown-ups. To a child, “next week” might as well be eighty million years from now, and to a grown-up, “one year” often seems like a long time to wait for anything. Five years, even more so. Seventy-five, unbelievable— and yet when those are compared to eternity, they are only a blink. 

Children make a blanket fort, and when one cover falls off, the world is over. Grown-ups make forts of material possessions and self-expectation and pride and family and health and insecurity, and when that perfect little world is disturbed, we feel as if it’s the end. If only we could take a step back and see the larger situation, to glimpse time and wealth and distance and love on a grander scale, we might start to relax a little bit. We might remember that we’re all children, we’re all silly, and we’re all unconditionally loved.

~Lisa Shafter