My son went off before my alarm went off this morning. After my wife and I failed to coax him back to sleep, I brought him downstairs to start our morning.
I swapped him into a fresh diaper, we switched the laundry over, then we headed to the living room so I could get on my mat. I brought him some entertainment (wooden blocks and puzzles) and began my wake-up effort.
Xavier would stay with his toys for a while, then come climb on me, then eventually sit down and cry (the "daddy play with me" kind). Usually this is the point when I pick him up to soothe, comfort, and reassure.
Determined to continue my yoga practice I'd guide him back to his toys and continue my practice. We did this dance a few times, and the next time he sat down to cry I let him be. I heard him, I loved him, I wouldn't be held hostage by him. I continued my practice.
He wailed for some time, grabbed at me, climbed on me... After all, the precedent I've set is that when he cries I (usually) pick him up. This time, I remained steadfast and eventually he realized that he wasn't getting picked up. He sat down, put his thumb in his mouth, and sat quietly. Then he stood up, peacefully explored the room, found his toys and entertained himself. I was able to flow for a while.
There was a new dynamic between us now. We were aware of each other, Xavier and I, and at the same time we were aware of ourselves and the space in between. I felt satisfied.
That space in between is crucial. When the space in between is gone, a neediness sets in. When we maintain the space, we are simultaneously able to acknowledge one another and allow each other our own ventures.
No comments:
Post a Comment