My son is a little over 2 years old. From almost day one of birth, he’s been attached to a fuzzy, brown couch blanket.
I’m not quite sure how this came to be as I only recall it always just being this way. He somehow stumbled upon its soft, comforting warmth and legit cannot travel without it! It made me nervous when he was a baby, crying for the blanket in his crib. Do I let him sleep with the blanket? But he needs it. He keeps crying. We decided to take a small corner of the blanket, poke it through the crib slats, and discovered that (thankfully) was enough for him. I then proceeded to check on him every second while he slumbered.
Now he is in full on wrap mode. He’s like a baby in a burrito. He curls the blanket around his body and grabs a small part to rub his index finger over. It’s soothing to him.
What dawned on me this morning was his love for something so simple. When we grow from children to adults, where do we lose that love for the simple? When is the change where things start becoming complicated?
For me, part of my simple is lost when I leave the focus of present. When I think about what needs to be done or what could I have done, I take attention away from what’s happening right in front of me. Yesterday’s family gathering was a reminder of living in the present. Today, my son’s blankie is another reminder. I think the universe is pointing me in the right direction, I just need to make conscionable steps towards the simple again.