Focus behind the boundless energy
As he bounces up and down on the trampoline, I can see he’s thinking about all the instructions he’s received over time. Tuck jump, star jump, and seat drop with hands beside your bum. He bounces off the 10 tuck jumps requested by his gymnastics “coach” without out a thought. When she asks him to drop to his seat then bounce back up to his feet, he performs the move flawlessly. When she advances the move to include seat to knees and hands, instead of feet, he tries twice before getting the rhythm. When he looks up at me his faces shines with pride and I can feel him soaking up my verbal encouragement and my clapping.
I am amazed at his ability to get himself to focus. Remember, this is the nearly 3 year old kid who has energy like a hummingbird, a high tolerance for risk and pain, and who loves running when he’s not “on task”. He runs around the house where other people walk, he runs in circles if he’s waiting for the next thing to begin. When he’s not jumping on the trampoline, he is either marking the moments to his next turn with the coach, or running around the area of the gym reserved for floor routines. He has two speeds: very high and off. Except when he turns on his focus.
He comes home from his small nursery program with stories memorized, songs on his lips and crafts in hand. He loves the diversity of the activities and the teacher is impressed at the way he engages with the material. You might not expect it from his incredibly high energy. I already envision some well meaning teacher wondering if his energy level is a sign of some problem that should be looked into. But already I know better.
I can see the way his mind is working — he makes up games involving knights, slaying dragons or he uses trucks and cars to move the situations in his imagination. He chases balls or plays with hockey sticks hoping to master their utility. All the while he’s running. I miss more than half of the activity by living my life I’m sure, but I take time when I see it to get down to his level and inquire about his inner world. It tells me a lot about how he’s doing.
A few weeks ago, I had him on skis on a beginner hill, while I in my boots acted to hold and release him so he could slide down the hill and get the feeling of turning without too much speed (this is aerobic activity for me!). At one point, we stopped to talk with Daddy and Kate, who had herself just finished her second-ever green run hill (a big deal for a beginner). While we chatted, Michael maneuvered his skis around his Dad’s and went off down the hill in his mind finally making good on his desire not to be stopped. He went down the hill with perfect balance, turning slightly here and there to avoid other skiers. I ran after him like a cartoon character Mom, yelling instructions to help him stop himself to no avail. He stop abruptly when he crashed into a still snow boarder.
When I recovered him from his face plant and confirmed he was not hurt physically, I wiped away the tears, put reiki on his scared heart and fed him a granola bar. As he began to perk up again, I asked how he felt while he was skiing down the hill. He said, “good!”. It amazed me — it was all about finally achieving the speed, going down fast and the fun, there was no fear. Except, I thought, for the outcome — where would that present itself?
The forthcoming weekend, while suffering from a cold he was less enthusiastic about going to his ski lesson/daycare program. A week later, I probed it with him when the cold was gone. He said he was scared to ski because not one catches him and he hits someone, falls down and cries. That inner reflection, now 2 weeks on from the incident, gave me the opportunity to talk with him about the safety of skiing with the instructors he has, and how they will help him learn to go slow and stop. He perked up.
I learned the next day that he’d been going up the tow rope and coming down the hill into the waiting arms of the instructors. He was one of the last ones on the hill and had a terrific time. But obviously he still remembered the lesson of the speed without legs which can stop or strong arms to catch him. That will make for a better decision next time. I’m glad I know to ask about it.