Right now within the walls of our home, my 4-year-old and I are standing in the bathroom, intensely focusing on the pot of magic.
Without batting our eyelids we are staring down at the breathtaking sight of the tiny waves caused by the strong flush in the pot. We silently watch the water hitting the sides of the pot, twirling and eventually exiting it while making a loud gurgling sound.
Then we wait for the pot to spit out just enough water for the next round of magic. This is our ritual after every flush. We wait and stare until the water is completely still.
I watch her face light up. She thinks it’s magical.
And while staring at her happy face, I wonder about how as I am growing older, I have very little patience left for ‘now’.
I am always busy in my head. Either ticking off job lists or creating more or worrying about something else. My mind is everywhere except in the present. Either it’s galavanting somewhere in the bustling lanes of old memories or getting lost in the thoughts of what my family and friends are up to in other continents or making imaginary plans for the future.
When did I lose my wonder for ‘now’?
Children are always happy, bursting with giggles unless of course, when you say ‘no’ to that extra cookie or when they accidentally trip over a toy. But then they will soon move on to the next moment of ‘now’ that you show them; a sudden shower of icy cold snow in our case and the teary eyes will light up.
They don’t carry the baggage of memories. They know nothing about the anxiousness of the future.
All they have is what’s in front of them, their ‘now’ and they know how to make the most of it.
Try telling a 4-year-old that she has to wake up early ‘tomorrow’ to go bake cookies at a friend’s place. And no matter how excited you are about the future in your head, she will only be excited about her present, her waking up to a brand new day until she rolls the dough and bites into the sugary sweet “now.”