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I ate lunch with my daughter today. She’s 16 and growing up at a rate that I’m not comfortable with. We met in between her concurrent enrollment courses she’s taking at the local community college. Yes, my 16-year-old is taking college courses on a real college campus with real college students - I’m not okay with this! Our weekly lunch is my way of grasping as many moments as possible before she moves away for college and then launches into a career overseas as a missionary (which is her plan).
So here I am, sitting across the table from her as we scarf down our McAllister’s sandwiches. She doesn’t realize that my sole purpose during our conversations is to take a mental inventory of the remarkable woman she’s becoming. I pay attention to the finest details, desperately hoping to retain as many as possible - not letting any slip into oblivion. These moments are too few and time is slipping too fast…I know this, and I can’t stop this, and I hate this, so I just lean in and marvel at how amazing she is. I imagine all the ways she’s going to change the world, and I simultaneously can’t wait to see it and dread the day she leaves to chase down her dreams. Between bites, she tells me about her speech coming up on Monday. She’s incredibly excited about this one. She will deliver a speech explaining why and how Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is a seminal entry into the Legend of Zelda game franchise*,* possibly a cornerstone game that affected all video game history. She regales me of timelines, canon events, character arcs, histories, and world-building, all of which exist within a child’s video game (I know there’s an argument that the game is not JUST for children, but that’s for another post). She’s animated and passionate. She takes bites of her sandwich without even noticing. It’s almost as if moving the sandwich to her mouth and chewing between ideas is purely mechanical. It’s rote behavior. It’s necessary for nutrition to enter her body, but she’s not enjoying it…no, no, her mind is too busy on other things. Her mind is racing from plot point to plot point in a video game series spanning well beyond her lifespan. She has plunged head-long down a rabbit hole and she won’t come up for some time.
I realize something life-shattering as I sit there. She’s down the rabbit-hole of a topic that she is passionate about, and for a brief window of time, she’s invited me to enter that rabbit hole with her. She’s invited me to tumble down the well of imagination and excitement alongside her. At that moment, I have two choices. I can remember my age, my position, my status. I can lean into the fact that I know a little about this video game franchise (being a child of the 80’s) but not a lot. Even if I DID know a lot, I’m a grown man - far too old to accurately remember the details of what she’s talking about. I COULD make that choice, but I chose the other choice. I jump in…I jump in hard! During the span of that lunch, we discussed timelines, goron, gerudos, and a host of video game characters. I speculate with her. I jump on the soap box alongside her and rail for the legacy of Ocarina of Time. By the time we’ve finished, 1 1/2 hours have been spent. We emerge from the rabbit hole, she heads off to class, and I head back to work. Some would argue that I wasted my time, but they would be wrong. I wasn’t learning Legend of Zelda, I was learning my daughter. I tumbled hard down the rabbit hole and am so glad I did.
Parents. As my children grow closer and closer to leaving our home and as those moments with them become more and more precious, let me advise anyone who would listen. When your children dive into something that brings passion and joy to their lives, whenever you can…jump in with them. Go full out! Don’t hold back. Enter their world and let them be the tour guide. Whether it’s a sport, robotics, or a video game…dive in. I’ve seen so many parents force their hobbies and interests on to their children and if that child develops a passion that isn’t in their parents wheelhouse, they stand back at a distance and say, “I just don’t get it.”
A few years back my son became very passionate about fishing. Don’t get me wrong, I like to fish. However, I would never classify myself as a “fisherman.” But for those few months, I became very interested in lures, bait, and all forms of tackle. Why? Because he enjoyed it. Parents, jump into your child’s world and let them be the expert. In that conversation at McAllister’s, I asked questions, listened, and learned. I became the eager student gleaning everything I could about Link and Zelda. She was the teacher and I the student. Parents, don’t be afraid to let your children be the tour guide. My next goal is to set up a day of the week where I walk our neighborhood with my youngest son and I vacation in his world. The goal isn’t to walk, but it’s to jump headlong into his world and let him tour me around for a bit.
Parents, you have full access to your child’s heart right now. You have full access to their dreams and aspirations, their fears and anxieties. In fact, you are the lens through which they process their dreams and fears. If you give credence to either, they will to. If you reject either, so will they. But as they grow, they your access will become restricted until one day they are on their own. Don’t waste opportunities to dive into their soul. Don’t miss out on those little rabbit holes! Jump in and swim around. Get passionate about what they are passionate about. Jump in, and jump in hard while you can!