FEAR AND FALLING APPLES

Yesterday when we stopped in Miriam Vale on our way here, I was watching the kids playing in the playground and got talking to another mum, from Gladstone on her way to visit rellies in Bundaberg. Two things struck me as I thought later on what we had talked about. The first was her comments about Jarra and his apparent lack of fear. He really thinks he can tackle anything and accomplish what he wants to do. He has so much confidence in almost everything he does that at times all I can do is sit back and watch and hope that the injuries are nominal, for certainly there will be some form of knock or abrasion. We have recently taken to calling him “monkey boy” or “circus child”. He is incredibly agile and has recently begun to suddenly execute a forward roll/front flip (on any surface!) without any warning. The first time he did this was on grass at Rainbow beach outside the pub where we were having dinner and there was a collective gasp as we waited to see if he had indeed injured himself this time, but he just got up and shouted “ More! More!” and continued to entertain us and quite a few of the other customers. He climbs everything and jumps down with great guffaws of laughter. Seen through his eyes, every aspect of life is an assault course just waiting to be tackled. Can you imagine tackling life in this way – full on. So much of who we are and what we do is governed by our fears. Fear of failure certainly, but also the fear of being thought less of ; of being laughed at; of being hurt; of seeming too different or out there: of being perceived as being rude or not complying to some social/cultural norm etc. The list goes on, but the sentiments are the same. Coming on this trip Andre and I could have had so many fears and everyday I try to make sure that my concerns are realistic, but that we also allow the kids as much freedom as possible to make their own trip and to discover the places that we visit in their own way. Often this means letting them go around the campsite/park on their own, always difficult as of course anyone could be lurking just around the corner waiting to pounce, but on the other hand they may not be and our children’s confidence and life skills grow. Which leads me on to the second thing that struck me ( if I was Andre I am sure there would be a pun at this point about some branch or another!). While we were chatting at a bench her four year old was sitting eating an apple at another bench when suddenly a wail pierced our conversation, “ My aaappppllllllle!!” He had dropped his apple below the bench and was distraught that his mum wasn’t there to pick it up for him and so she duly went over and picked it up for him so that he could continue to eat it. Now this struck me as a bit sad. How will this little fella cope with life if he can’t pick up his own apple and sort it out????