If you talk less, they listen more

My father’s attitude to looking after multiple grandchildren was rather unique. I like to think he had an odd mixture of backgrounds that lead to experimentation. His mother had died when he was very young (around two or three) so in one way he could easily relate to lonely and unusual children. Fortunately, his mother was one of 12 siblings so, on the other hand, there was an excess of aunts and uncles and cousins to lavish care and attention on him.  His sociability probably sprang from this huge extended network which he took long road trips to renew and strengthen over the decades.

Then, he was the headmaster of a secondary school and had taught in the UK, Canada and Australia. That gave him ample opportunity to get to know the developing mind of a wide range of youngsters. So, when he had grandchildren one would have figured he would use his extensive educational experience to great advantage.

However, he claimed that the best way to look after a herd of grandchildren was to leave them alone. He would generally take them to a huge flat beach where they could walk for miles and only get ankle-deep in the sea. Then, he would studiously ignore the children but follow them from a safe distance. He claimed parents were far too interfering with instructions like “Take your socks off”, “Keep your shoes on”, “Where is your coat!” “Do you need a drink?” Or be the font of too much useless information, “This is a limestone rock”, “Here is the shell of a mollusc” or “This sea is called the Atlantic?”

Or constantly made fear-inducing statements like “You could easily drown”, “The sun is really bad for your skin”, “That dog might bite”, “Beware of strangers”, “You could easily get lost, be careful”.

Instead, he felt that silence allowed the child to really explore their environment in a much more personal and intimate way. He discovered a herd of small children usually unconsciously appoints a natural leader and they keep the group together. All his energy would then be devoted to ensuring safety not distracting conversations. Adults feel the need to talk, inform, respond, elucidate to each other but especially to children. The frightening reality, he claimed, was that most talk is just gibberish and many of us have come to so many false conclusions it might be much safer to opt for silence instead.

Children were clean slates ready to write their own reality, he felt, and thought it really unfair to interfere or mess them up. This hands-off attitude changed when he had just one child in hand. Then, he’d question them mercilessly trying to work out how they thought, what they valued, their views on things etc. It was that unique ability to flick from silent bystander of the group to loving inquisitor of the single child that build epic bonds with children. When children sense you don’t need them to be an audience they relax. If you talk less, they listen more when you do speak. If you respect their space both physically and mentally they sometimes gain much more.

A friend recently described being in Africa on the savannah and learning that by walking a few steps in one direction stopping and then heading in another and stopping repeatedly, the nearby animals grew used to his presence and began ignoring him. To them, he just seemed to be another grazing animal. 

Perhaps by adopting the same approach with young children we can get the necessary closeness to observe the important interactions they’re experiencing rather than our own flawed expectations.

The Death roll verses the Pitchpole

I like yachts.  Love messing around in them like my dad loved airports. It is that spirit of movement and sense of adventure they embody. The smell of salt water, the tinkle of the halyards against masts set the pulse racing. Not that I am sailor I got my first job in my 20’s and spend my salary on a sailing dingy - a Topper. That year I lived and worked in Cowes, which is quite a sailing Mecca. I seem to capsize in front of the posh sailing club every time I had to turn direction. Do you remember learning to ride a bike? For me it was riding in straight lines that came first. Every time I had to take a bend, off I came with knees, elbows and hands bearing the brunt of my mistakes. Eventually, I learned to corners on bikes. Unfortunately, in sailing I never mastered certain manoeuvres.  The two main reasons for my capsizing have wonderful names.  One is called the Death roll and the other is called the Pitchpole. 

“Death roll

This is an interesting setup to the broach.  Sailing downwind can cause an oscillation of the boat rocking back and forth.  An inexperienced helmsman will tend to try to correct this by steering away from the "roll" but this will cause it to get worse.  Once the roll gets to strong the boat broaches.

Pitchpole

This is a different sort of hydrodynamic problem.  The boat is going at a certain speed and the sails are under enough pressure to maintain the speed.  When the hull suddenly slows down the sail "keeps going" and the boat pitches over the bow in a spectacular summersault.  This is usually because you're racing down the back of a wave and when your bow hits the next wave it slows down abruptly.”

When in either position and moving fast  I invariably managed to capsize the boat. I didn't let it stop me sailing. One colleague from work who foolishly came sailing with me abandoned ship after the third capsize.  I watched him flee for shore as if his life depended on it. 

I didn't belong to any sailing club and I never minded the Hurrah Henrys looking on with their irritating nasal laughter, canvas shoes and wine glasses. It was the wind, waves and adventure that had me mesmerised. There is a feeling being really in the moment that confirms you're really alive not spectating or waiting for life to begin. My Topper taught me that.  I learned to right the boat again with remorseless painful practice. It's not the end of the world to find yourself in the water with the sail on your head. Sometimes, you have to work out which way is up and down. You can be that disorientated. Breathe as much air as you can before working on getting the boat upright. Before you can get moving again you will need to find your bearings and get above water.

At times life will do that.  It will take the feet from under you. Don't waste time worrying about who is watching you. Focus on deep breaths and conserving your energy for the task in hand. Wind direction changes, waves can come in all sizes and at times your skills don't quite meet the challenge. There is no shame in that. You're not responsible for what comes your way. Only for how you choose to respond to it. We need to remember that! Don't waste time on being humiliated by life. Instead, fill your days with times worth remembering.

"It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live."

Marcus Aurelius (Roman Emperor from 161 to 180 AD)