I’m late to work again, a fairly regular occurrence. Michael was hard to pry out of bed as per usual, and only decided at the last minute to sit down and eat breakfast at home rather than having a waffle at Ms. K’s.
So by the time we got out the door I was already a half hour behind.
Driving along the streets, Michael made his observations about this and that, asking me question after question as he munches on cereal, a baggie of leftovers from his attempt at breakfast given the limited duration of a single SpongeBob episode.
My thoughts dwell on the day ahead and the projects that I’m overdue on, both at work and at home; of looming holidays and promises made, of evening plans and school grades and no time to squeeze exercise in there anywhere.
The brutish, stabbing winter sun peeking over the townhouses on the horizon makes a direct frontal assault, rendering it nearly impossible to see to drive, and providing an entirely ironic counterpoint to the heavy layer of frost on every surface visible in the landscape.
Michael continues his chattering about all he sees: “What’s that circle thing? What’s that yellow thing? Why is that lady running with that dog?” I try my best to parry his questions with simple responses, knowing that there will be no end to them until we reach our destination.
Then Michael hits me with a real poser:
“Why are those trees spinning around?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“The trees with no leaves. They’re spinning around. Why they do that?”
‘What are they putting in Cocoa Puffs these days?’ I wondered to myself.
“Spinning around? They’re not spinning, Michael,” I said, trying to bring reason into the picture.
“Yes they are,” he insisted, gently.
This is one of those times when I knew that the only way to properly address the question was for me to quit being the 45-year-old man and become once again the 4-year-old boy. Making sure I could do it with relative safety, I looked out the side window at the barren trees we were passing by. Medium sized Sugar Maples and taller Dogwoods lined the sides of the roadway we were on, their bare, frost-covered branches reaching upward in hopes of spring’s imminent arrival.
And then, I saw them spinning. The trees were spinning around as we passed them.
Of course, they were firmly rooted and were holding quite motionless… but as we drove past, our angle of view on them was constantly changing. We viewed each tree from the west, then the south, then the east; each angle flowing smoothly into the next. Turning.
Immovable trees, from the perspective of a child in a moving vehicle, whose mind is free from the burden of years of training in proper thinking, were merrily spinning around in place.
Amazing.
And even after I dropped Michael off at Ms K’s, the rest of my morning wasn’t nearly as encumbered with thoughts of dread responsibilities.
A gentle reminder to myself, and to you the reader, that occasionally it is therapeutic to refresh our perspective.
That’s trey muey cool. It is also kind f a bummer. I was already to go get me some cocoa puffs at the store.
What, you don’t want your trees to spin?
Isn’t always the child’s perspective that seems to be the correct ones?
I think this was his way to telling his dad to relax and have some fun.
Hey Tom, relax and have some fun…
I think he’s been trying to tell me this for almost five years now. Some day I’m going to listen.
Wonderful Tom. Really. It’s almost embarrassing how often we stumble across these realizations, each time feeling like the first time until the children are grown and they can’t help us remember to look at things through different eyes.
You’ve done a fine job documenting this. It’s important. Thanks.
With spinning trees and all the other wonders, it’s no wonder they(pre-k’ers) never want to go to sleep. The world is amazing!
@Chuck – thanks. I think God blessed me with that little boy just to keep my wonder from going stale.
@Seashore – it truly is! you know, I asked him on the way home if the trees were spinning and he said they have to grow up first. I never know where his mind is headed.
Tom,
Isn’t it funny that we don’t remember the older kids ever having asked these type of questions when they were that age? ….or was it perhaps that we were younger then, and could easily see their perspectives without even trying.
Eat a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and stay young my friend, stay young. There’s more of these type observations to come.
I know my older kids did… but I don’t remember any of them. I’m going to have me a big ol’ bowl of Cocoa Puffs tomorrow.
The Eyes Of a Child. I think the Moody Blues wrote a song about that. Kids are total Spock clones: rooted in logic. Well, their logic, anyway. I get 2 or 3 a week from the NukeKids, and, you’re right; sometimes the change in perspective is just what I need.
That was on the “Days of Future Past” album. I have that one. Ah, the good old days.
As for kid’s perspective, I’m just glad I could get this one. Most of the time we both end up fuming in frustration because neither one of us can figure out what the other is talking about.
Amen! Perspective is everything. I hope you did that clock exercise I posted recently. I think you read the post, but if you didn’t watch the video you must! I am fascinated by it.
http://momo-fali.blogspot.com/2009/01/perspective.html
I did see that video – it is totally illustrative of the point: what you perceive to be depends in a large part upon your viewing angle.
I’ve always been a big fan of optical illusions and “think outside the box” type puzzles. They help keep your perspective-shifting capability sharp.
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