This morning I witnessed an astonishing transformation. It happened right before my eyes and it proved to me, without a singular doubt, that we truly are what we think.
I know we’ve heard this a million times, but to see it happen, to witness the bodily transformation, it’s quite profound. It makes it all the more real.
My son woke up this morning like any other morning — his blanket in one hand, his pooh bear in the other, and his thumb in his mouth. That’s his happy place and I no longer fight it. It calms his overly excited body so he’s not jumping on beds, pummeling himself headfirst in my pillows or simply running around like a lunatic. I like the peace his pooh bear and blanket provide us all!
An hour or so later, as we’re doing our morning routine — getting lunches packed, lining up the backpacks, checking Instagram — my son gets it in his head that he needs to find his Fitbit. That he lost. Nine months ago.
We’ve already been through this, I think to myself. Why on earth is he deciding that today is a good day to begin the search over again? It’s gone, left to fend for itself either in the dusty far reaches of any one of the closets, or underneath beds, or tucked away in a super awesome secret hiding place that was forgotten about long ago. We’ve done exhaustive searches over the summer for it, and while we’ve found plenty of other lost items along the way, the Fitbit remains a mystery. I said to him maybe Santa will get him a new one.
This doesn’t please him but sends him back upstairs to resume his search, all the while becoming more and more stooped over in the shoulders, speaking more quietly, with the corners of his mouth drooping downward. Depression was slowly overtaking him and I see it happen as the minutes progress. He was turning into Eyore.
It’s haunting actually, to see it so clearly. Is this what happens to me, I think. Am I simply so wrapped up in it I don’t even realize the slow and steady pace with which it takes over my body?
We manage to make it out to the bus stop, where it’s eerily quiet despite three kids standing there, who are usually running around getting in one more game of tag before the bus arrives. His mood has permeated the air around him and is consuming all of us.
And I’m simply taking it all in because I know there is nothing I can say to make it better. I just stand there in awe at this little boy, head drooped over, shoulders depressed, kicking the dirt with his feet.
And all I can think is that he did this to himself. I saw it happen. I couldn’t stop it.
As the bus approached, I tried to think of some last minute wisdom to sprinkle over him like some magical fairy dust, and I say, You can choose to be happy, or you can choose to be upset over this… choose to be happy today.
I realized as the bus pulled away, he probably had no idea what the hell I just said to him because I’m just learning what that means, and he’s teaching it to me! Choose your thoughts wisely, as they become your reality.
Let’s be honest though, what he was really looking for was me to say, don’t worry bud, I’ll buy you another one! And then I would get out my fairy dust and produce one on the spot :)