“When a kid walks in a room, your child or anybody else’s child, does your face light up? That’s what they’re looking for.”  – Toni Morrison

I still remember the day I was sitting down on the couch talking on the phone to an old college friend while my husband and our two year old son were at the library.  I had about an hour and a half to myself – a total luxury.

While my friend and I were talking, my husband and son walked in the door.  “Mama?!”  my son shouted with excitement as he looked for me, found me, and ran into my arms.

I asked my dear friend, “Do you mind holding on a second?”

I put the phone down.  “Hi, my Love!!!”  I said, looking at our two year old, smiling, and giving him a big hug and kiss.

I paused for a few moments to feel the excitement of seeing him surge through my body, even though it had just been an hour.  I paused to look at him with a big smile on my face.  He looked at me, too, and smiled.

Then, he ran off to help dad bring the library books inside.  I turned back to my friend on the phone.  “Lisa,” my friend said, “That is so great how you greet him.  Every kid needs that.  My mom never gave me such warmth or acknowledgment.  She never sounded excited like you just did.”

I sat there on the phone – speechless.  He was right.
Every child wants to be acknowledged.
Every child wants to see their parents excited to see them and full of love.

In that moment, I I vowed to myself that I would always pause and acknowledge my children – no matter what I was doing – when they walked through the door.

Tomorrow a new school year starts for us.  This past week, I found myself making glorious plans about how I want this year to go:

“I want to be more organized.”
“I want to have a place for all the school papers.”
“I want to volunteer for a few more things.”
“I want to continue to make sure they have good stuff for their lunches.”
“I want a schedule for when we make our grocery list and what day we go shopping.”

And while these things are part of caring for our dear ones, it’s easy to get overwhelmed with all that needs to be done and lose sight of what’s most important.

What’s most important?  Connection. 

Connecting with our dear ones in compassionate ways.

Tonight, I was walking upstairs with my children to get ready for bed and our big day tomorrow.  I was thinking about my “glorious plans” that have been been on my mind this past week — and, if I’m being honest, such organizing and being on top of things makes me anxious.  But then I looked at my son.

I turned my attention to his eyes. I listened as he told me how excited he was for a new year.  I paused and I looked at him with such love.  I watched him brush his teeth.  I watched him as we read a story.  I turned out the light, and I soaked up the moment of feeling his hand against my heart and one leg flopped over mine.  Soon, he drifted off to sleep.

I laid there listening to him breathe.

“Love Looks,” I thought, “that’s what Brian and I do.”

Love Looks are these little moments of pausing throughout the day and seeing our kiddos and each other with eyes of compassion. 

Love Looks.  Little doses. 

Little moments of saying, “I see you” and “You matter.” 

Little moments when we pause, slow down and acknowledge the holy right here in the midst of prepping lunches for the next day, getting breakfast on the table, and getting organized.

My friend was right.  I am good at this.  While I’m totally human and that means “perfectly imperfect,” I’m good at pausing and giving my children Love Looks.  While my “to do” list grows and I could really use a space to put all those school papers, I’m recognizing that I do enough.  And I imagine you do, too.

Our kiddos may not care or remember how organized we were.  But they will remember these little moments of us pausing and SEEING them.  These moments are what fill a little one’s sense of self…slowly, in little doses, over time.

Tonight, as I was getting ready for bed, I paused and looked in the mirror.  “Love Looks,” I thought, “God, I could use some Love Looks, too.” Little doses of pausing and looking at myself with compassion.   Little moments of being kind to myself, looking at myself, and seeing the holy right here within me, too.

Love Looks.  For our children.  For ourselves.  For one another.

This is what matters in this moment.  This is what matters most this year.

———————–
Dear ones, as we start this new school year, let’s focus on LITTLE DOSES of compassion – like “Love Looks.”  “Love Looks” with our children, partners, friends, and with ourselves. So many of us parents are so busy caring for others that we forget to care for ourselves. Let’s let the critic rest for a bit this fall. Let’s look at OURSELVES with eyes of compassion.

** Friends,  thank you for all your lovely comments — here, on Facebook, and in emails.  It’s a delight to know that something here resonates with you and inspires you.  I write from a movement within me, a calling, to inspire this world to live with more delight, compassion, and connection in our everyday lives – however that may look for each of us.