Little Man is already tuning into noise. He notices when certain friends form tight-knit groups. He shares with me moments of feeling left out. He feels the sting of an innocent tease. He senses a hint of a perceived pecking order between friends. He notices kids scrambling the line to weight a ‘team’ for the win. Not every day, but some days. And those days tend to stick with one longer.
He also believes in himself. He has a huge heart. He feels he is smart. He has many diverse friends and appreciates uniqueness. He loves school and the very same friends who evoke uncertainty. He’s celebrated many accomplishments. He can sort through the superficial. He knows what really matters.
Opposing positions, it would seem – but not so. These positions are not mutually exclusive. You can feel them at the very same time.
I know it’s inevitable. I’ve been there. I’ve walked the halls and sat at lunch tables insecure at one time or another (ok, LOTS) feeling a change in the dynamic of a relationship, not knowing where you fit in. I’ve felt uneasy about witnessing ‘injustices’ or imbalances between peers, the shifting of friendships. I’ve felt left out. I’ve felt on the outskirts looking in at what seems like a place where people seem more important. And it’s likely others have perceived me as being on the other side of that equation at some point as well. They go there, our minds.
It’s an ugly lonely place but maybe also a very necessary one. That place has sparked conversation – about the perfection in each person just as they are, the importance of our role and responsibility in our world, individual potential, and the idea that there is so much beauty underneath and beyond this spot and this day and this situation.
That place has initiated examination – of self, the motives behind behavior, the identification of feelings and how to process them healthily. It’s possible that recognizing and understanding that place is as important to the building of a real foundation in one’s self as being supported and praised does.
I want to give him future goggles and tell him it’s all crap and that it won’t mean a thing when he’s grown. That people are people. That one recognized is no more important than one under that radar. That we all need each other. That we all feel this way at times. That we are all the important ones. Finally, I want to assure him that in adulthood all of that just goes away.
That last part wouldn’t be true though.
I mean, the rest is so very real but even when we occupy our grown bodies and minds we must continue to resist the tendency to go there. I recently spent a moment or two there, in that noisy place, myself. I was feeling very minnow in a big ocean-y and it threatened to reverse my roll, to close me and isolate me rather than extend and stretch me.
Little man, make music from the noise. Collect only the parts that lift you and keep you dancing to your own song.
XOXO
These words are so true. I’ve only begun to recognize them as a mom and I know I have a lot more to experience through my children’s eyes. But I already know that it’s not pretty. I have that strong urge to go all Mama Bear on the situation, but have been able to reel myself in so far. Making music out of the noise is a beautiful way to describe it.
It’s hard. As our babes age the words hold more weight. I match your Mama Bear urges. It’s very real. I’m hoping to start them understanding young how their response to the words can change their impact. XO