I noticed that when my 3 year-old granddaughter, Lily Frances South, visits my wife and me, she has a special request when playing in our front yard.
“Grandpa Dickie can you come and watch me sit on the big rock?”
“Sure,” I reply. “I’d love to see you sit on the big rock.”
I follow her to the southern edge of the yard where she proudly and skillfully seats herself on a large rock, a wide satisfied smile on the cute little face, framed by long golden tresses.
Lily will sit on the rock for at least 10 to 14 minutes.
I often wonder what the rock-sitting moment means for her.
I think there are several possibilities: The satisfied 3 year-old is hinting that she is getting ready for potty training, even though, as far as my senses tell me, that’s never the result of her activity. So let’s drop that one.
Another real possibility is that Lily is sending out a sign of her future life pursuit or career. I think it falls somewhere between rock climbing and royalty ambitions; that is, sitting on a throne surveying her familiar and not so familiar environment. I feel so strongly about this one, I am willing to bet on it.
Erica Jong wrote: “Everyone has talent. What is rare is to follow it to the dark places where it leads.”