Content in Your Own Skin

I have a nine-month-old little boy. He teaches me daily that we come into this world with no agenda. He doesn't care what he wears, or if his hair is acceptable by current hipster standards. He doesn’t feel compelled to proclaim his thoughts on the upcoming election. He laughs when something is funny to him. He cries when it hurts. He craps his pants in front of other people and is fine with it.

He's not hiding anything, he's not spinning anything, he's not posturing himself in any way. He doesn’t portray himself as a bad-ass, or attempt to convince anyone that he's nerdy, or intelligent, or has read all of the right books. He’s not the best skier in Colorado. He doesn’t feel the need to make a statement through a tattoo.

He is just his own little dude. He has only pure, unadulterated emotion, which he expresses very clearly.

And it’s so refreshing.

Without words, he reminds me that the most enjoyable people to be around are those with no agenda, and little ego to uphold.

I’ll enjoy this age, while it lasts.