Being around a toddler has taught me a lot about being human. The first thing I’ve noticed is how difficult it is to grow your own brain to be able to do the things you want. Arthur will be two years old next month I can almost see his neurons slamming together trying to get his body to do what he wants. He has been working on trying to jump… just a simple hop so that both feet come up off the ground. At this stage of development it is a difficult thing to do, but yesterday he did it. We were listening to a recording of “Clap Your Hands” by the band They Might Be Giants. The song is from their kids album and is very rhythmic,. Suddenly after a lot of attempts he was jumping and a big smile broke over his face. Suddenly he had shed the restrictive suit of his taut muscles and everything just seemed to fit and he could jump. I think that moment must have seemed like a miracle to him. At first he couldn’t hop and then he could. This is the beginning of independence.
So it seems obvious but with independence of this sort comes a little obstinance. He is begining to do the things he wants and that is almost intoxicating. So when big people make suggestions, like, “Arthur would you like to give Dot a treat?” he says loudly, “No!” No, he wants to do the things he wants to do. After all he can hop why shouldn’t he do the next thing he wants to do? Like get all the books down off the shelf? Where just a few weeks ago he agreed with everything his parentss suggest now some neurological door has been open and he wants to walk through it every single time…. all on his own. No. No. No and no. I want to do what I want to do.
Of course there have to be limits. He can’t run out in the street and somewhere deep in his brain he recognizes this, because there is a tone that his parents carry with them that communicates their own sense of “No.” Don’t run into the street because it is very dangerous and you could get hurt. Or even perhaps. “We could get hurt,” and Arthur listens to this and obeys. Finding the acceptable limits is the thing that makes a good parent child relationship work.
Of course I think of this while both Jan and I get older. Our bodies neurological development are going the other direction. Neither of us can hop the way we used to be able to hop, nor can we run or climb the way we used to and our reaction to this change is not the same as Arthur’s. We are less independent and less obstinate than we were just a few short months ago, what we have that Arthur does not is experience and memory. Some times I can’t help thinking that we are ships passing in the night, an overused metaphor to be sure but one that serves my purpose today.
Consider an actual ship traveling at night the most necessary quality needed is the ability to know where you are. While a two year old is right smack in the middle of where he is, he is unaware of where that is exactly. An older adult who is losing their capability while also, right smack in the middle of their experience the difference between the adult in decline and a toddler is that the adult knows…. at least for a while… where they are and how this new state fits in with human experience. We know that death and decline is ahead and we slow ourselves down where Arthur bounds forward towards his unlimited potential for growth.
So we are ships feeling our way in the dark, while a toddler races around in this new mysterious night.
Jan and I are home now, back to our steady routines but I have to say that our trip to the south shore of Big Sur was a wonderful adventure. It’s a long drive up and around the coastal range to go in the south end. We have to do this because the road is still closed from the north because of last years big winter storm. We stayed at a lodge called Treebones which was wonderful. We stayed in a beautiful structure called an autonomous tent which sat perched on a bluff above the sea. The view toook in about 180 degrees of rough ocean sea scape. At night we could hear sealions hauled out on a beach somewhere three hundred feet below us. While the structure did have a fabric skin it was not any type of temporary immovable structure. It was a comfortable cabin with a gas fireplace and a bathroom but the sound of the wind and the waves breaking on the shore surrounded us at night. It was a perfect place to sleep.
The other thing to recommend the south shore is its relative emptiness. There are very few visitors right now. For a time last winter there were two slides and the people caught between them found themselves trapped on an island on the coast. They were trapped there for four months. With emergency helicopter service and living on their stores of food they had put up. I spoke with young people who all seemed to love it. The beaches were literly empty and the big waves were theirs and theirs alone. Other’s reported beach combing on empty beaches and potluck with neighbors. Then once the southern slide was repaired they found themselves at the end of a very long and remote road, which is the way we found it. The weather was perfecct while we were there but the big rains which will probably bring more slides are surely on their way. The locals aren’t especcting the northern slide to be fixed for another year and the young adventurous seemed happy about that.
We spent a day eexploreing the beaches and campgrounds. We kept our eyes open for California Condors but were denied. We had a lovely time in this new culture of end of the roaders, there was a lot of talk about Alaska and their desire to go there. Somehow we felt right smack in the middle of our lives in this beautiful spot and we were happy. It was almost like learning to jump again.
Here is a new poem.
