Being two

Spending time today with my two year old nephew Thomas, I realize that the two year olds are not unformed versions of us – they are something completely different. They have an entirely different way of seeing the world, and their eyes focus on different things. What delights and enthralls them is often meaningless to us.

They focus on particular details – where the line is on the pavement, how many cookies everyone has, how many times to run around the pole – that are from another world, one we can see but not really understand.

I think it’s not so much the difference in the way their minds work – although the non-linear spontaneously generative thinking of a two year old seems completely different from the relatively linear narrative within an adult mind. It’s the fact that entirely different things motivate them. The aspects of reality that most delight a small child – the sounds, colors, endless repetitions of games – are largely inaccessible to our adult minds.

Thomas can switch his attention on a dime from one thing to another without another thought. On the other hand, he can watch a guitarist play for an hour or more, gazing in rapt attention at the fingers of the musician while listening to the magical sounds that emerge, without ever losing focus for a moment. I understand this, but I cannot do it. It’s another world, one only vaguely accessible to our adult minds. We can peer in through the glass, and perhaps even make sense of many of the things we see there, but we cannot step through, into this other world.