“Chris, wanna go for a walk?”

There is nothing like a bored child to get an adult moving. The adult (and the child) may not like it, but a child that needs to DO something WILL get you moving- even if its only to get annoyed and snap something pointless like “settle down!” Sadly, many people don’t realize what an opportunity it can be to help a child get their energy out- I know I certainly forget it often enough even though I know.

While visiting my family in New Mexico for the holidays we were graced with the presence of the grand daughter. She’s 8, extremely bright and full of energy. I used to see her once a year when my brother and his partner lived close to her in PA (its her grand daughter) and was a bit sad to realize that I might not get even that one snap shot a year of watching her grow up. I was pleased to hear that she and her dad’s visit would overlap with mine.

What you have to realize, however, is that my brother lives WAY out there in rural New Mexico and there isn’t much for an energetic 8 year old to do. The various toys quickly lose their novelty, acceptable computer games only last a little longer, and its heart breaking watching a bright girl turning into a vegetable in front of the T.V. So when she asked me “Chris, wanna go for a walk?” I knew that it was time for me to get moving.

“Sure, Alex. Let me get my boots on and you go grab your jacket, OK?”

I’ve been out in the bush quite a bit over the years and have lead groups of other people’s kids out without hesitation or fear. But that was several lifetimes ago, it seems, and always in a place that I knew fairly well- and this place is almost completely new to me. This is the high desert mesa lands of eastern New Mexico where there are lots of pointy sharp things on the plants at the very least and rattlesnakes at the worst. And it’s a 70 degree day. My normal confidence wasn’t quite as strong as it usually is but the thought of having a bright child cooped up inside and bored would be a crime: the more so because I knew her natural curiosity and energy would be well served with very little effort on my part. I just had to keep up and keep my wits about me.

Just thinking about it made me feel old. I’m not. Definitely time for me to get moving so I suppose my little friend is helping me out.

It was a warm day, but the sun was on its way to sleep and we probably only had about an hour and a half before dark. After watching how her dad frets over every little thing she does (or doesn’t do) I figured some relaxed time with a supportive adult would be just the thing. Besides I didn’t have the energy to hound her every step they way her dad did. Maybe I am old, but at least I know that she’ll learn on her own without me spoon feeding her every morsel of information. That doesn’t work for anyone.

“Hey, this way! I want to show you something!”

She was nearly bursting at the seams with energy and hopping around where she stood waiting to see what I would let her do.

“Ok. I don’t run well, though, so you can go on ahead and I’ll catch up. I don’t mind as much as your dad does if you want to go into the bushes but we DO need to be careful. There’s lots of thorns and burrs out here!”

“I know!” she shouted to the hill she was already running towards.

I chuckled to myself as I followed her at my own pace. There are lots of burrs here- very nasty ones that will break off deep in your skin and get infected – but we were as prepared as we could be. I wasn’t really worried about snakes but they were a possible danger. I didn’t really know, though, so I watched her carefully. What would her dad say if I brought her back hurt?

I sighed. I used to do this for a living and I really enjoyed it.

“Look, look! What’s that?!”

She had reached the top of a small hill and was pointing down across the property to what appeared to be derelict tractor or plow. It was out past the mesquite and Cholla cactus and in the grassy field on the other side of a barb wire fence.

I didn’t know her father all that well and I know he only gets to see her a few days a month, but from what I have observed so far I could here his voice rambling on in my head as he might have answered her simple question.

“That’s a plow, honey. Probably left over from when someone was growing crops down in that field. It looks like its been there for a while because the grass in growing up around… BE CAREFUL, honey! Don’t run like that- you’ll fall and hurt yourself. Let’s go over this way- I think there is a trail where there aren’t too many burrs. Watch where you are putting your feet. I told you that you need to be more careful out here.”

Maybe I’ll go crazy, too, when I have my own child, but for now I still remember that no one ever listens or cares when their parents rattle on like that. Did you?

“I don’t know” I lied. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like a pig or something. Lets go look!!” she shouted in excitement and took a few steps to run down towards it.

“We could look at it with my binoculars. We don’t have to go all the way down there right away…”

She stopped to see me holding out the binoculars I had brought. Her face lit up as she took them and looked out at it.

“Its…its… it look like…a…a… wagon?”

“Really? What to do see? Its getting too dark for me to see it well... what does it look like?” I lied again.

“Um… its red… and it has…something on the bottom… I don’t know…”

Ah, that was it. In the failing light the orange plow looked red and it was rectangular like a wagon. She didn’t know that the strange “wheels” on the bottom were the blades for turning up the soil. I didn’t know that either until I really looked at it while she was using the binoculars. Of course I could see it without the optics- I just wanted her to use them and see what she saw through the answers to my questions.

Hey, it’s a lot easier than running around after a child with far more energy than I’ll ever have again and trying answer all HER questions. Did you ever meet an 8 year old who ran out of questions? It usually much easier- and much more fun- to ask your own questions and follow the child as he or she tries to answer them. Besides, I didn’t really know what the thing was. To me it looked like a plow and I’ve seen similar things pulled behind tractors but I could easily be wrong. Who was I to give her my guesses when hers were just as valid and more important?

“Well, lets go take a closer look then! I’ll take the binoculars if you don’t want to carry them.”

She handed the binoculars to me and started jumping down the little hill. She stopped and waited for me at the bottom then started her hop/run towards the old piece of machinery. After a few steps she called back towards me.

“I know I shouldn’t run on uneven ground but…EEEEEK!”

Her prophetic sentence ended in a girlish shreek as her foot slipped. She quickly regained her balance, spun around and looked at where she had just slipped, hands held up in surprise.

“I just stepped in a hole!”

Again, the sound of what her dad might say filled my head.

“Alex, I TOLD you that you can’t run around out here! You almost sprained your ankle! I don’t like how you don’t listen. That’s why I said that you can’t run out here- you need to listen to me when I tell you what to do because I know the ground is uneven and you could get hurt. Now WALK and lets go this way . OK?”

I can imagine the fear that surges through a parent when their child does something even slightly dangerous. That’s why kids need to go out with people who aren’t their parents every now and then. They must learn what they can and can’t do and experience the edge of their limitations and how to push them.

I chuckled just loud enough for her to hear as I walked up.

“You OK there, Alex?” I asked in a friendly and unconcerned voice. She nodded. “Well I guess you found out why running is difficult out here, huh? That’s kinda funny.” I smiled and put my hand on her shoulder as I walked to her and past her on the way to the fence line. By the light touch on the shoulder I reassured her (and myself) that she was OK and by continuing to move I refocused her away from the drama, whether intentional or accidental, and back to the adventure on hand.

“Yeah,” she said as she turned back towards the plow and began walking more carefully but still faster than I was moving. I watched where she was putting her feet and how she moved . While she was moving at a quick, energetic pace she was carefully jumping over clumps of plants and stepping in clear spots on the ground. She was looking back and forth between the ground and the direction she was going as she picked a safe next step along what seemed like an easy path of travel.

Cool, I thought to myself. I didn’t really care about the plow, but I did care that she had a good time and felt good about herself on our little, inconsequential adventure. And that she was looking more carefully at the world around her, even in just this small way, was a victory for me and made it worthwhile for me to get myself moving to go for a short walk before the sun went down.

As I followed her footsteps I felt good. I wonder how many people would understand my subtle success.

Yes, I thought to myself: its time to get moving.