Zooming out
I was cleaning out my purse today, and I found a penny with an orangutan on it. One of those flat pennies that you get somewhere special. A token stamped in time, to commemorate your trip.
On our last visit to Portland we went to the Zoo. The kids saw the machine as we took a pit stop at the bathrooms. “Mom, can we get a token?!” They had been so well behaved, and asked so nicely, I graciously put my penny and 4 quarters into the machine. Micah went first and picked an orangutan. He was sure that was the animal he wanted on his penny. The machine squeaked and whirred and smashed, and after a few minutes, the special token, fell into the tray and Micah reached for it, grinning ear to ear. However, almost as soon as he picked it up, I noticed the excitement started to fade. He realized that maybe he wasn’t so sure, an orangutan was the animal he wanted. He turned to look at Chloe, as she deposited her penny and four quarters into the machine. Chloe’s face now lighting up as she turned the dial. She started to name them out loud, “orangutan, seal, penguin, lion, panda.” She decided on the penguin. The machine again started to press, and move, and squish the copper penny. She looked at Micah, who by this point had decided, he was no longer interested in the orangutan and had to have the penguin. “Chloe, would you trade me for the orangutan!?” he asked, as polite as he could muster. “No, Micah, the penguin is mine”, she replied. In a desperate attempt, he turned to me. “Mom, do you have more quarters? could I get a penguin instead? You can have the orangutan!” I take a deep breath, knowing well what is coming next. “No, Micah, you made your choice. You picked an orangutan. It’s a special token. Enjoy it.” I said firm, but with tenderness in my voice.
If you’ve been a parent, aunt, uncle, or have witnessed the kid in the grocery store that wanted a piece of candy and didn’t get it… you have a good idea of what comes next. It started with tears, ever so gently at first. Then the tears came harder, and he began to barter, offering anything he could think of in trade. When I held my ground, he started to beg. Next thing I knew, both kids were yelling and crying. Eventually I ended up with the token, because he didn’t want it. I think Chloe probably lost the penguin token before we even left the zoo. Within three days the entire event was a distant memory and both kids had moved on completely.
If you’re a parent, you will be all too familiar with this scenario, or something similar. Extreme drama over the littlest things, a french fry, a paperclip, those little umbrellas that you put in a fancy drink. I have similar stories about all of these items. Thankfully they are often replaced, quickly with something joyful and beautiful, a song, a story, a hug. The art of parenting is learning how to move children to the joy quickly, and not get stuck too long in the drama.
Today when I was cleaning out my purse, and came across the penny from that rainy day at the Portland zoo. I remembered the drama, I remembered the tears, I remembered the day.
Looking at the penny brought back all the memories and feelings from that day, but I am different than the mom who looked at it then. I have been meditating every day. I have been paying attention to my internal dialogue. I have been listening to the lies and truths that I tell myself. I have been evaluating my inner drama, on a daily basis. I have been sitting with myself. In all of it’s Bare, honest, truth, on the daily.
So, in this moment of reflection, I was able recognize that I do this too. These temper tantrums my children experience, aren’t so different from my own. The scope and duration have changed, but it’s not all that different when you adjust the variables. I may as well be crying over a squished penny from a vending machine at the zoo.
When I zoom out with a wider lens, I realize all this “important stuff” is just an illusion. When viewed from the end of my life looking back, I’ll see that I wasted a lot of energy, spending so much time trying to manage things that were out of my control.
Looking back I probably won’t remember most of the things that seemed so important at the time.
when I told my sister this story, she shared a similar story…. and sent me this simple text
It’s like the little toddler who spent a long time collecting dead leaves in our cul de sac, and earnestly delivering them to me, and as soon as she turned her back I dropped them on the ground. How much of our lives are spent delivering dead leaves to people who drop them on the ground after smiling and saying thank you?