babies are simple.
everything is new to a baby. sights, sounds, textures.
the simplest things amaze and delight a baby. the feeling of its toys in its hands, the meaningless hum of grown-ups' voices around it, the soft headpats from its mommy.
you resisted, at first.
you might have enjoyed being treated like a baby, but you were still an adult in the end! your world was too complex, your brain too developed, your awareness too sharp to really engage with anything truly for babies and babies alone.
so you kept playing your big kid games, and watching your big kid shows, and using your big kid words.
you'd be her little one, but apart from the infantile accessories and playful teasing, you were much like any other adult.
mindfulness training, she called it. mommy just wanted to help you with your anxiety, so you could learn to recenter when things got too much.
when your mind started to race, you learned to focus on the moment.
the feeling of the ground under your feet.
the quiet nuknuk of your pacifier.
the gentle trickle of warmth into your diaper.
you'd get anxious a lot, so you put mommy's lessons to good use.
it happened more and more. you'd start getting stressed, and then focus on these comforting sensations until your worries floated away. you were becoming so much calmer, so much more content.
you had to keep asking mommy to pause your shows. it was hard to pay attention to the plot when the soft stuffie in your arms was the center of your attention. you'd have to calm down first, then resume.
after a while, you realized how long it would take you to finish just one episode. so long that you'd start forgetting what had happened before the pause, and you'd have to rewind, which would make it take even longer...
you complained about this to mommy, and she just nodded thoughtfully. maybe, she said, you just needed something a little easier to follow.
you reluctantly agreed that made sense.
so mommy helped.
when you needed to pause a show too much, she'd just stop it and change to something simpler.
when you got overwhelmed by your games, she'd hand you a toy of some kind and help you play.
when you got frustrated at how you stumbled over words trying to solidify your thoughts, she'd suggest something more straightforward to say.
and it kept happening. and it helped.
you don't get nearly so anxious anymore. having to stop and breathe still happens, like when you recognize one of the grown-ups' faces or when someone tries to show you something too complicated. but your world is so much quieter now.
the way the blocks feel in your hands.
the comforting hum of mommy's voice.
the way your diaper sags after you wet it.
these things take all your attention now. these are your world. these are the only ripples on the calm, empty pond of your mind.
babies are simple, and so are you.
inspired by @darlinglilmia
