Be present. Stay in the moment. Have you heard phrases like this?
They are intended to help us keep our minds focused on where our bodies are; being present can help us out tremendously when worry or anxiety start to get the better of us by stopping negative thoughts and helping us settle down and focus on where we are in that moment.
When you’re eating, are you tasting the food, or are you mentally miles away thinking about something else?
When you drive into work, do you notice the beautiful sunrise, or are you having a hypothetical argument all by yourself?
I’m a big believer in being present, and I’ve seen it help adults and kids alike manage overwhelming thoughts and feelings. I recently discovered that I was failing at being “in the moment” in a big way.
The other night over dinner with my child, I took advantage of momentary silence to start in on a litany of questions: Who did you sit with at lunch today? Do you have any homework? Have you laid out your clothes for tomorrow?
Pretty quickly a casual dinner turned into the equivalent of a planning meeting. Neither of us was happy with how it was going.
I realized with a start that not only was I failing to be in the moment, but I was spoiling the opportunity for real interaction. I decided that I was going to try to change the tone of dinner, and I focused on those things that were immediately around us: things I could see, hear, smell, feel, and taste.
I commented on the orange leaves on the tree in our backyard, and in return my child perked up and noticed a squirrel working busily around the base of the tree.
We talked about the taste of the food we were eating, and what the ingredients were.
We laughed, and dinner extended a few minutes longer than usual.
My child looked happier, and I felt better than when I was on the verge of nagging. For a few minutes, we enjoyed being right where we were, together.
I don’t want my child to grow up with a running to do list in her head, or worse yet, with a nagging sense that she’s not doing enough.
I want her to know the full experience of hot soup on a cold and windy day, and not get lost in preoccupations with what comes next.
Did I check homework later that night? You bet I did. Did those clothes for the next day get picked out? Yes, and with a good bit of protest. It wasn’t the content that needed to be changed, but my timing. I had to decide on purpose that I was going to make dinner a time to be present, and teach my child how to do the same.
I’m still not used to taking breaks to “live in the moment,” but with practice, I’m getting better.
Dr. Ginger Welch is a Clinical Associate Professor at OSU, and a member of the Early Childhood Coalition.