human stimuli

i try not to worry about my son when i pick him up each day from his afterschool program and he is just watching the other kids. it seems impossible that he doesn't want to be one of the busy humming little people, digging sand, chasing, moving plastic furniture around, pretending to set up stores and jails and castles. he likes them, he says, he just doesn't want to play with them. it has been 4 months and i guess this is something i should accept for now. he doesn't want to join a soccer team and be one of a crowd of ball-kickers on a field, doesn't want to join the group of kids at school reading "books for breakfast."

no, my kid is hopelessly chatty and social at home, demanding our attention every moment, but in the big world he is, for now, a careful observer, doing his own thing on the monkey bars, watching, watching. there are so many reasons why this might be, but if i can stop worrying then it is very cool. to be a person who loves people, but who can be happy just watching them. a writer, maybe a scientist? and it seems like the city is a good place to be this way, a place where there are thousands of amazing people everywhere we look. the yelling man around the corner, the skateboarders, little lily in her shop, the big kids around him riding bikes in the street, people speaking chinese, french, spanish, the musicians we know playing songs they wrote, our friends the bartenders and van drivers, the salsa musicians in union square, the glass blower at the gallery, the people playing basketball and tennis at the park, the kids with two mommies, the big kids playing kickball. even the homeless folks surviving on the street. kids who are tiny yet walk themselves to school. lots to see. lots of time to choose who to join up with. no hurry.
no hurry at all.