A Tale of Two Trees

A Tale of Two Trees

I remember watching my teenage children bunk stacking their hammocks for the first time. My younger son was the acrobat and engineer while my daughter chose the perfect location as they co-labored on the project of creating space for a peaceful reset in the sway of a hammock. This sweet memory resurfaced recently in a conversation about solitude, when a woman shared about using her own backyard hammock as a timed tool for teaching her children the joy and discipline of quiet. She said, “I want it to be mindful creativity and habit forming. My prayer is that their soul is being nurtured and shaped to one day understand solitude as a desired spiritual discipline and conversation with God.” I immediately admired her commitment to training rest and the idea that what we do with our bodies matters to our whole health.

From pings and rings to those eternal “ding” notifications, it can feel impossible to find peace. If we, as adults, find it difficult to turn down the noise, imagine how hard it is for our kids to find peace and quiet in a world that is taking on a faster pace every day. Teaching our kids to have quiet time isn’t old fashioned; it is an important life skill. Culture would put solitude in the same category as loneliness or isolation. Not so. Solitude is chosen; a positive, powerful and temporary time of mental and emotional reset. It’s about focusing on activities that require concentration and soothe the soul. Some experts suggest that young men and women who heavily depend on other people or something else, like devices or video games, to engage or stimulate them have a hard time taking responsibility for their own well-being as adults. Alternatively, those who enjoy moments of solitude spend more time out of doors, have hobbies, are deeper and more critical thinkers, and are rarely bored. So how can we encourage our kids to learn to love the quiet, manage their inner world, and consider faith at an early age?

I think modeling a form of solitude and sharing, out loud, the joy in that is a worthy beginning. Maybe I lead by tossing my own phone in the ‘tech time-out’ basket at the end of a workday. Perhaps I let them see me reading for pleasure instead of holding the TV controller, potting, painting or sitting up in a tree simply to be still and gain a new perspective.

Resolve to notice and positively comment when kids choose to say ‘no’ to busy, opt to join you in unsolicited conversation, or express interest in a new healthy hobby. Wake them up for a meteor shower, leave good teen reads lying around the house, play instrumental music in the kitchen, and tell them often that you value their wonder and want to hear their ideas. Scan the backyard for trees. I hear a hammock may be habit forming.

AmyJo Pleune                                                                                                                                                

Coaching & Discipleship, Joshua House