In six months my child has been introduced to the world. In six months he has learned that a bottle brings him food, that I am his mommy, that if he reaches his arms up I will pick him up. In six months he has learned to roll over, to scoot, to crawl. He has learned to push buttons and to explore. Every day he learns.
Watching him learn to crawl was frustrating. He learned to get up on all fours. He practiced for several days. He rocked. Again, for a few days. He lifted his hand and fell forward. I wasn't sure he was learning because this seemed to be a daily occurrence for a week. He stood in a tripod. He took one step all day. And then one day he took off.
Six months in our adult lives seems so insignificant. But why is it any different than the six months of my baby? In him I see major progress, change, growth. As adults we don't have such major external changes. People cannot see the progression from one skill to the next. But we are challenged to continue learning, continue growing. We make internal shifts, slight changes in perspective that leads us from the person we were to the person we are.
I feel like I am in the midst of a major shift right now. My son makes large outward changes, and I'm making large inward ones. I have, for the first time in my life, learned the art of relaxation, of doing nothing, and appreciating the nothingness. I can meditate, wishing that each moment of meditation would stretch just a little longer. As fearful as I am of my thoughts and of death, I am willing to confront that fear and challenge myself.
I have been thinking a lot about dying. Death and I don't have the best of relationship, and I have kept myself from partaking in many activities because of this fear. As a child I wouldn't ride roller coasters. I hate flying. And I avoid white water rafting. Fear drove my life. Fear drives my life. Since the fire my fear has certainly been exacerbated. But I know I have to let go of it. The harder I try to let go, the more I cling to my fear. But just like learning to crawl, I am learning, little by little. And one day I too will be able to let go of the crutch and stand tall, confident in my support below.