Last weekend, I visited my son at his first sleepaway camp. He had been away for four weeks, and we had only spoken on the phone once. The uncertainty of what to expect—whether he would be happy, sad, or wanting to leave—made me feel the need to anchor myself to something I could control.
I focused on what I could change or fix. I was excited to fold his clothes neatly, organize his knickknacks, and “momify” his bunk for the remaining three weeks. I wanted to make things better and easier for him—or so I thought.
Then the camp director sent a letter to parents that felt like it was written directly for me. It completely shifted my perspective.
He shared a story about his wife organizing their son’s bunk on visiting day. She took all his clothes out of his cubby to organize, fold and put them back neatly. After she finished, she asked her son what he thought. He replied, “That’s not my cubby.”
The director highlighted the importance of celebrating the child’s accomplishments rather than focusing on the little things we, as parents, might want to fix.
I took away numerous insights from this story and reflected on them in my journal. These questions resonated deeply with me as both a parent and a human:
- When we focus on messes, what is motivating this focus?
- What if messes were not messes but simply a different way of doing things?
- When do we let go enough to see beyond the mess?
- How would I feel if there were no messes to deal with?
- Am I focusing on my own cubby or someone else’s?
- Is there anything to celebrate in someone else’s cubby? If so, highlight it.
- When I enter with the intention of fixing or changing things, how does that impact my experience and the experience of others?
- When I let go and simply show up for “what is,” how does that shift my experience and the experience of others?
- Looking at my own cubby, what can I celebrate for myself? Can I resist the urge to change things in my own cubby and simply celebrate? If not, what is holding me back?
Now as I write this letter, visiting day has passed and nothing has been touched or reorganized in my son’s bunk or cubby. Instead, I told him how proud I was of him for positioning his reading light to read at night, for making his bed cozy, and for taking such good care of himself. I loved seeing the rips in his photo book from looking at it so much. There were so many artifacts with stories attached to them, and all I had to do was listen.
Fixing messes or reorganizing things would have made me feel useful and needed—but it would have been for me, not him. Instead, I leaned into his world and let him show me how to navigate. I left that day in awe of him and his growth away from home—something truly to be celebrated.
Taking Action
My mindset has shifted significantly since then. As I go through my day, I look for moments to celebrate or highlight for myself. I do this for my daughter after camp too—instead of focusing on spills on her shirt, I ask about her day at camp. The stories and lessons can be found within the spills and messes if we are patient enough to let go of a fixer mentality and make space for the glimmers, the ordinary sparkling moments, the life being lived.
At the end of the day, instead of a list of things to do or fix, I focus on the moments to highlight from the day—what I hope to savor. I put these highlights into a mental cubby that I can open anytime as a reminder that within the mess, there is so much to be celebrated.
Your Turn: I encourage you to find the “messy gold” in your own life or someone close to you. Take a moment to celebrate the beauty within the chaos and the growth that comes from it. Share these insights with them, or reply to this email and share with me.
Let’s celebrate the ordinary, sparkling moments together.
All my love,
Dr. Carolyn