Lessons from a dancing baby
After patting down my almost four-month-old son, I let him air dry for a few moments.
He used those moments to dance. He’s learned many new moves in the two months since I first posted about his love of movement, so it was a joy to witness everything he’s since learned he can do with his body.
“Life is good, huh?” I asked him. He beamed and cooed at me, his version of “yes,” before flailing some more for emphasis.
“You’ve got a bed to lay on, a pillow to rest your head on, a cozy outfit, and Mommy and Daddy hanging out here with you. What’s not to love?” Flailflailflail.
Saying it out loud, I was struck by how simple his list was. His exuberance wasn’t inspired by anything costly or novel, but by the presence of loved ones and simple day-to-day artifacts of human life. In that moment he had–in all moments he has–everything he needs.
I want to live like that. I want to be so involved in the beauty of this moment that I forget any other moment has ever existed or will exist.
Not every moment will be full of typically “wonderful” things, but every moment can indeed be full of wonder.