On mindfulness…and thoughtlessness
The other day we were walking around the neighborhood with the kids. Our little boy, who is as wild a spirit as I have known, walked up to a parked car and without the slightest hesitation gave it a good lick. “What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled, “You cannot do that! Do you understand me, sir?” He glanced back at me, then gazed off into the distance and, while flicking his tongue in the air, asked, “What’s licking for?” My response should have been, “Well, it ain’t for cars, my man,” but instead I was dumbfounded by his 100% unfiltered mindfulness.
This 4 year-old bundle of flesh and bone was having a foundational thought about why we do the things we do. It’s a level of introspection that has become foreign to us adults. All kids start out exploring why their bodies do the things they do, but often once we get past the very basic physical functions, we stop learning, stop exploring, and stop asking ourselves very basic questions…about ourselves.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled about what he did. I’m very much anti car-licking. As I write this we’re still in the midst of a global pandemic, and I’m pretty sure sliding your tongue down the side of a Buick is not in line with the CDC guidelines. But there’s a billion dollar meditation industry designed to get adults to the level of mindfulness where they are contemplating nothing at all, except for what’s going on at that very moment inside their bodies and minds. Kids get to this point at will. At some point, we adults lose our grasp on these most basic levels of curiosity and have to reteach ourselves through meditation or resort to some sort of substance to help “clear the cobwebs.” A child is on a constant acid trip without any side effects of drug use – unless you want to count exposure to whatever germs were all over the side of that car.
My dad, who was walking with us as our boy was trying to set off car alarms with his tongue, witnessed the whole tragedy and said, “Well, buddy, we lick so that we can taste things…like ice cream cones!” Decent save, Papa. The little man seemed satisfied by the answer, but I feel no assurances that he won’t explore this topic again soon. One answer is good, but that’s far from sufficient for a scientific experiment of this magnitude. And a kid’s life is basically one experiment after another. I shudder to think of what comes after licking, but as disgusting as I’m sure it’ll be, I can’t wait to watch him, correct him, and marvel at his tiny, but rapidly expanding mind yet again. Somehow I find myself jealous of this toddler who just used his tongue as a mini car wash. I hope he continues these thoughts (maybe in a more sanity way), and doesn’t just surrender to the flow of everyday life.
We work so hard to figure out how gain some perspective; how to achieve some level of clarity in the morass of every day life. Those of us raising little ones don’t need to look too far to see a group that has mastered mindfulness – even if that mindfulness is tied to utter thoughtlessness.