As a father, I spend hours a week at playgrounds. For the first two years I shadowed my kiddo every step. Now I stand at the periphery. I stand a lot. I wait a lot. Many and most parents and caregivers pass the hours on their phones. I understand their urge. Busy the mind. Give me something to do.
Yet something occurred to me around the time my daughter began climbing and sliding on her own.
This can be time for indwelling, for silent presence, for being alone (monos) in contemplative love. That inner-shift reoriented everything for me. I went from a dad biding his time to a father dwelling in prayer.
Amidst shrieks, tears, rhymes and babble of all sorts I attune to heart. Then comes a shout, “Papa! Look!” I cross the playground to my upside-down daughter who asks, “What're you doing?”