Presence-time

I'm thinking about the quality of time I spend with my 3 year old son. He's all about spending time with me, which I'm so grateful for. He told my wife the other day, "Daddy plays with me because he loves me." It warms my heart to know that he knows I love him.

Like most children, he's a very intuitive empath. He can tell if I'm not mentally or emotionally present with him, though I might be in the room with him. Even if we're watching a movie, he will know if I am checked out. I may have my laptop open, reading or thinking about something else, believing that just being in the same space with him will satisfy him. But he doesn't just want my mere physical presence. He wants me to engage in the moment with him, taking in a story like he is taking it in. He wants presence-time with me.

On a recent morning, I woke up early and walked out to our living room. Scattered around the room were monkey and dog stuffies, a "Lighting Da Queen" car, a Buzz Lightyear toy, and the spaceship tent his aunt and uncle got for him for his birthday one year. We flew to the moon in that spaceship the night before, taking those stuffies and toys along with us. We experienced the story together, taking it in at the same time.

These objects of a brief childhood strewn about all over the floor serve as emblems and signs of moments filled with joy, laughter, play, love, and presence – the beautiful detritus of time well-spent.