Wise Young Sage

Sage: [seyj]  noun, adjective, sag·er,sag·est.

Noun 1. a profoundly wise person; a person famed for wisdom.

This morning I was the first to arrive for yoga class, so I found a seat on a bench outside the studio. A few minutes later, a woman arrives, with a child under one arm, food in her other hand. “Morning,” she smiles at me, putting the child down. “Sage,” she says to him, “Do you want some breakfast? Here – mmm – let’s have some of this.” She feeds him a spoonful, while answering her cell phone. She works at the studio I learn from the phone call. She scoops up Sage and the food while still conversing on the phone and unlocks the studio door, all in one graceful act.

Silently I hope for such multitasking skills when I have children. I stay where I am on the bench, not wanting to bombard this woman on her Monday morning. I sense the person on the phone is already doing a good job of that.

I see a curly mop of sun-kissed hair poke out from around the door frame. A pair of curious eyes smile at me. Little Sage wobbles over to me and peers into an empty pot beside the bench, pulling out a stone. He tosses it back into the pot and looks at me, smiling widely with his new teeth. “Nice shot!” I say to him. His attention turns to a small pomegranate plant. He picks off a flowering bud and studies it with his tiny fingers. He holds it up and then hands it to me. “Thank you,” I say. He continues to pull all of the buds off the plant, handing them to me one by one.  His mom appears and laughs. “Sage, how do you ever expect us to have any pomegranates if you pull off all the buds?” He squeals and laughs a hearty, loud laugh, the kind that doesn’t sound like it should come from a child.

I sign up for class and head into the studio to get situated. Sage is now sitting in the instructor’s lap, cute as a button. “Are you going to lead class today Sage?” the teacher asks. Sage lets out another loud forceful laugh which makes us all giggle.  Sage, in turn, laughs harder.

Finally it’s time to begin and Sage leaves the room. I see his little fingers and face pressed against the glass door.

At the end of class, our instructor has us do some laughing exercises, perhaps in light of our wise little Sage. He asks us if we noticed the way Sage was laughing. He didn’t necessarily know what he was laughing at but the physical act of laughing felt good to him. Often after a good laugh we hear someone say, “Oh I needed that.”  Laughter releases endorphins and relieves tension in our bodies. Children have yet to be hunched over their computers, or overworked or stressed. Their little bodies are in their most natural form – shoulders back, open heart, relaxed and present. We all must strive to listen and be aware of our bodies. Are we in a permanent hunch? Are we laughing enough? Getting enough sunshine and exercise? Nourishing ourselves with healthy, whole foods? Drinking enough water? Taking time for the things we enjoy?

Today my little pomegranate picking friend Sage reminded me to be curious, to share, to laugh, and to be aware.

I am grateful for big lessons from little people.