On Mini Marshmallows

My daughter’s hands delicately cup the Easter egg. It’s the first one she’s found among the many scattered across the lawn. Everyone is shouting at her to grab more and put them in her basket, but she has never seen a plastic egg before. She’s the only one hunting for eggs, and she doesn’t hurry. She’s shaking and squeezing this newfound treasure. Her little thumbs are trying to pop open the sky blue plastic. She thinks there might be something inside, she can hear it. 

“Just put it in your basket and get more eggs! Run! Hurry!” She doesn’t. 

After a few seconds of working the plastic she finally pops open the egg. Mini marshmallows spill out- what a prize. She starts popping each marshmallow into her mouth, enjoying the sweetness, one by one. By now, her adult audience has given up on encouraging her to rush. The lawn is a rainbow of plastic eggs, waiting for her when she’s ready.

What is it that children know about being present? A lot, it seems. While we were focused on the invisible competition, rushing her to collect eggs as fast as possible, she was focused on the one in her hand. Instead of rushing for more, she stopped and savored a moment as sweet as a mini-marshmallow. 

Even with all the noise telling her to rush, to look forward- she chose to be present. 

As I watch her bite each marshmallow, I realize that she understands something crucial that I’m still trying to grasp. I think about a familiar thought pattern of mine:  “Once I have/do/be, then I’ll finally be fully happy and peaceful.” There are times when it feels like I am constantly living in the future, placing all my happiness there instead of here. As my daughter savors the sweet prize of the present moment, I’m just collecting eggs for later.

In a typical Easter egg hunt, you collect first and open later. But, maybe life is about opening each moment as it happens. 

In a way that only toddlers can do, my daughter showed me that all we ever have is the present moment, the mini-marshmallow in our hands. We can spend our whole lives saving the sweetness for later, or we can savor it now. If each moment in our lives were a plastic Easter egg, we’d miss out on so much if we waited to open each one.