Rooted in the Chaos: Reflections on Grandchildren and the Turning World

As I leave big sky country of Montana behind, I’m already missing the sweet chaos of my grandchildren—their innocence, their immediacy, their curiosity. Tears plunk in little drips onto my sweater like when the snow melts in spring. I spent a week with my daughter, her husband, and their two children, a treasured time since visiting had been limited the previous years. The Montana days slipped by like liquid cascading light as I got lost in their presence: their delicate smell, the softness of their skin, their expressive faces and emerging language.

 My grandson’s connection to nature is astounding. On our daily walks, his bond with the wind and trees is palpable. His deep love for the organic world is so visceral., as if his feet have been rooted in the soil for lifetimes.

And my granddaughter? She’s a rocket. Broad, eclectic, and spatially gifted—her geographic sense rivals GPS when we’re in the car.

It stirred memories of my own three daughters as babies and toddlers—the endless hours of nursing and rocking, managing older children and a household. Those years feel lost to the decades of time. How did I do it back then? With an extra child, a less helpful husband, and no mindfulness skillset? I don’t know. But somehow, I did.

I enveloped my grandson and granddaughter—each tiny personhood, unique, energetic, demanding—tucked into the absolute center of my mindful presence. Children are the ultimate challenge for the practice. Their needs, wants, and desires shift moment to moment and we, the adults, must become master manipulators when our linear world demands compliance from the unfixated state of a child under three.

It’s trippy, watching your kids have kids. The lineage continues. My daughter, now a mother twice over. Just yesterday, it seems, I was taking her to the playground and making mac and cheese together.

I thought of my maternal grandmother—how ancient she seemed. She grew up without running water in Ireland and when she came to America she worked as a telephone operator, the kind who physically plugged connections into a switchboard to make a call. My own grandchildren will see me that way: ancient, out of date perhaps. I wash dishes by hand because I like to feel the water instead of using the dishwasher. I don’t own a TV (by choice), and I am sure my granddaughter will remember how long it took me to figure the remote and my shock at the the endless array of channels trying to locate her favorite show.

It’s both amazing and sad—how fast things change, yet how they stay the same. Technology shifts how we interact with life, but at the core of our humanness, the things we crave most are connection, love, and acceptance. Whether we have no running water or the latest gadget, our relationships remain at the center point of the changing world.

Grandma Time

Need assistance with deepening your practice as a parent? Eileen is an alternative healer who has completed multiple vision quests enabling her to be a clear and effective conduit for your personal growth. She has worked with somatic breathwork practices for a decade and is a certified Unified Mindfulness Teacher/Trainer Contact Eileen@relaxandexpand.com