When my daughter, Brooke, was one, she decided to take a walk. She opened the screen door to our summerhouse, stepped down to the flagstone walk, and headed out the dirt road that led into the woods. She walked with a purpose, as if something had called to her. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look at me. In fact, it was as if I wasn’t even there. She just got up from her toys and made for the door.
As you can imagine, my first reaction was to stop her. “I can’t let a child that age, who has barely learned how to walk, just walk out the door without even checking with me. Where could she be going? What is she thinking? She should not be taking off into the woods. All sorts of things could happen to her. A responsible father does not let his one-year-old daughter take off into the woods on her own. It’s just too dangerous.”
But, also, in that first second another thought was forming: “Wait, there is no immediate danger, let’s just keep an eye on her and see what happens. I don’t have to act, yet.” I just watched.
As these thoughts collided, I had the barest flicker of yet another thought: “She is acting as if she knows what she is doing!” Now, when people act as if they know what they are doing, I hesitate to interfere with their decisions. And Brooke’s whole demeanor communicated, “I don’t need your help.” So, I decided to follow her.
By the time she reached the edge of the woods, I had something of a plan. Somehow, I had to do four things at once: let her go, watch her, keep her safe, and keep out of the situation. A voice from deep inside told me that her decision to do this on her own needed to be honored. She did not look around for me, so I didn’t call her attention to my presence, but instead followed at a careful distance, hiding behind trees and sneaking around corners in such a way that I hoped she wouldn’t see me. And she didn’t.
PREVIOUS PAGE
