Stop to pick the daisies

You know the phrase, “Stop to pick the daisies?” Well, if you look it up in a phrase book you’ll see my daughter’s picture. No, really. In the description there are big block letters, “ASIA: Stopping to pick the daisies” and there she is, sweet smile with a fistful of daisies. I’m sure in some language her name means “daisy-picker.”

And at the same time, at a clandestine meeting behind a waterfall, I’m sure some hyper-naturalists call her “daisy-killer” because they’re convinced that Asia has just killed members of their extended family. And they pin up posters and print up fliers and make plans to save the world from the daisy killer.

But for us, we encourage this affinity for flowers. We want her to get outside and open her eyes. We want to impart a sense of wonder for the outdoors. Sometimes this affinity backfires, like during soccer games.

Eager to try the sport, we bought Asia the shoes, the pads, the shorts, even a handy “must-have” tote bag to carry her gear, and we enrolled her in the 5 & Under soccer program. As a first-time parent to 5 & Under “organized” sports, I didn’t know what to expect. I imagined little kids running in every direction, coaches shouting, no one listening.

And then me as the team sponsor stepping in to advise the coaches that unless they got some order, they’d be out of a job because the “firm” has a lot riding on these games. But alas I didn’t have to fire anyone because the games were actually quite organized.

That’s good for the coaches, but bad for Asia. She’d rather stop to pick the daisies, and she would – often, a lot.

Didn’t matter if she was on the sidelines, didn’t matter if she was in play. The game just didn’t matter that much to her. The coaches did their best to redirect her attention to the ball. And my wife and I did what we could. Finally all the parents got into it, everyone cheering if Asia so much as turned toward the ball.

And if she happened to tap it with her foot, well, you’d think we found Hoffa or struck oil or something. I mean, we all made quite a fuss about it. I hope the other kids won’t need counseling because their parents cheered more for Asia than for them.

But despite our best efforts, Asia still stopped to pick the daisies. And even though I would have liked a soccer star, I’d rather have a daisy-picker. Asia reminds me to stop and pick the daisies, something we all need to do from time to time.

Sometimes we need to break from our routines, from our all-important work, to leave our carefully-crafted little bubbles behind, and do something that isn’t scripted.

Sometimes we need to be reminded that the world will not explode if we don’t finish our project today or don’t make an on-time arrival to wherever we’re going.

Sometimes we need to stop being so grown-up about stuff, stop following rules that don’t matter and stop taking ourselves so seriously. We need to become like little children again.

Even Heaven depends on it. So, remember to stop and pick the daisies.

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