The last two mornings I’ve taken my breakfast in “the hall” – the biggest hut in the compound used for sleeping, storage and cooking during the rain. And the last two mornings the heat of the porridge has kicked my sweat glands into a full body glisten. So I decide to take breakfast in the middle of the compound today. I hang my green towel on a nail, I place my green bucket of soap and sponge to the side, and take a wide legged stance on the rickety wooden stool, donning my basketball shorts and dirty shirt.
The whisper of a breeze has the desired effect, and I breathe deeply as I lick the spoon clean and prepare to get dressed and start my bike journey to work. But then suddenly I notice, out of the corner of my eye, a small mobile unit on the ground. Is it a chicken or chick you ask? A pregnant goat? A guinea fowl, a dog, a sheep? Well I’ll give you a hint, she’d probably eat green eggs and ham if given the chance, because she’s heading into a teething phase.
I let go of my need to get to rush to work, and reel my mind back in with a hand-tied fishing line. It was already back at my room, unlocking the room and packing up things, too many steps ahead. With the second breath I find myself pleasantly present. And as my eyes come to focus, so too does a wave of amazement rush through my body. The baby Nesara (Wadudatu) is crawling. My worlds are instantly fused: only 3 days ago my brother described my nephew Ryan really starting to motor on all fours. This amazing little human in front of me who has been a fixed point of laughter, tears and everything in between is now moving. And she’s gunning for her 2 year old brother, Sohini, and oh! She is grabbing his shorts and pulling them to his ankles, and he’s not so happy to be embarrassed by a baby. He turns around and pulls his pants back up. Nesara starts to cry.
“She wants to be picked.” Mustapha’s commentary fits the moment like Morgan Freeman narrating penguins. 5 year old Aminatu understands this even though she doesn’t hear his English and pulls the baby onto her lap, bumping her forwards and backwards, bringing a green eggs eating grin to the ball of wonder. Suddenly Aminatu has got Nesara on her hip and she’s running laps around the compound, and shrieks of joy are emitted at regular intervals. It calms into a steady “Ayy-ayyy-ayy-ayy-ayyy” with the syllables marking each big running step that Aminatu is taking.
“She’s got the smile face. Oh, she’s really smiling now.” Morgan’s going have to keep an eye on this Ghanaian prodigy, because Mustapha couldn’t have said it any better. He could have well been describing me too, especially given that Dagbani doesn’t distinguish gender in her pronouns.
People change. Even when it’s as dramatic as the change in a baby’s first year on the planet, you can miss the changes if you’re not awake. I arrived intentionally late at work today, having meandered my way there, pondering this question of how people change, and how we notice. How often do we take the time to hold back what we think we know about someone to notice who they really are? Someone wrote that “you can only truly know someone in the present moment” which is frightening in its echoes of truth. Our drive to know, to understand, to be certain, can so easily blind us to the changes in people all around us. And I shudder to realize how much it dictates how I interact.
My beliefs profoundly shape my experience, like when I take a deep breath to pre-relax myself for a phone call with a certain manager who I often talk about as “a difficult character.” I’m infinitely more likely to notice what makes him difficult when I start every interaction with that image in mind.
It’s easier with Nesara because the change is so physical, so obvious. I started my porridge imaging her as a baby lying on the floor, and finished with a new picture of her as a smiling terrier, capable of exploring the compound on her own.
What stories do you tell yourself about people around you? Why are you holding on so tightly? I dare you to let go, and meet them only in the present.
Mike,
Another beautiful human glimpse into your world. Thank you for sharing… Challenge accepted friend, I will push myself to let go of my past/future mental constructs of people – seeing them fully in the present.
Miss you, talk soon?!
Much love, Les
This was really quite timely. I just came back from having a discussion with a friend here about her needing to do just that. Maybe I’ll send her your post. Thanks again for your wonderful, thoughtful insight.
Great post bro! Oh, the desire to be present – so timely, so honest. It’s a good reminder for me, to live and know in the present, and to interact with others in the now!
thanks boss!
yes! present moment, only moment. thank you for this story and its reminders of my/our own profound influence on what we see. and the sound track!! it was new to me in a way i didn’t know i needed. thanks for watering that seed in me today. i’m going to go be late for work. 🙂
so much love and respect beaming at you right now,
Carla
Great post Mike! It was so poignant to imagine the parallels between your nephew and Nesara, really brings home how much people are people all around the world through everything that gets in the way of us remembering that. Absolutely amazing shot of Aminatu as well!
[…] Mike Klassen: Learning to crawl – https://doorwaytotheuniverse.wordpress.com/2011/06/03/learning-to-crawl/ Amusing and interesting […]
Thanks Mike your story really made me smile too. Great soundtrack as well!
Beautiful story, beautiful thoughts. You’re amazing, Mike. Thanks for sharing.
Great post Mike. And great shots of the children. Keep up the writing!
Fantastic post, Mike. Gave me goosebumps all over. I’m really looking forward to working with you — I can already tell we’re going to be great friends. Can’t wait!
Right on the mark Mike. Thanks for sharing this experience with us and your reflections. I think no matter where I am (physically, emotionally, spiritually) it is always important to be reminded of this need for presence and full engagement.
Be well my friend.
Amazing Mike! Thanks for the reminder. Now you’re going to have to watch out for the little terror as she starts to explore more and more. It’s going to be great.