Too many parents fail to understand that childhood is not preparation for adulthood, writes Murray Williams.
One of my many siblings will tell you of his favourite sound. A sound which conjures up beautiful things – in his memory, in his mind, in his heart.
Memories of a childhood, which was safe, timeless and free.
His sound is that of the car’s wheels crossing a cattle grid.
After the two-hour journey up from Durban, the sound meant we had arrived at my grandparents’ little farm, in the heart of the Drakensberg.
Their home began as a little rondavel on a barren hill, overlooking a dam.
My grandmother started planting trees for Africa, and a green wonderland began to grow over the next 20-something years.
For our large, sprawling extended family, this little farm in the ‘Berg became the centre of our collective heart.
Where we would meet, ritually, for family Christmases, or holidays, or spontaneous unions.
And of all who loved this place, it was the children who thrived there most.
For two reasons, more than any others.
Firstly, grandparents often offer an extraordinary sense of security for their grandchildren – a more fundamental kind of protection from the world.
A mix of wisdom, gentleness, calmness, perhaps – without the tension of family management in crazy daily parent-child relationships.
And, secondly, this Never-Never Land was beautiful for us children because of its timelessness.
There is a wonderful phrase, written for children, which says something like: “Lord, let them not be rushed…” Indeed.
One of the greatest gifts children can be given is time, not being rushed.
Preferably without cellphones or gadgetry, a digital no-fly zone.
This was our time, in the Drakensberg – young children roaming free.
Exploring the secret garden, making huts in the forest, and the best, learning to row on the dam, and endless time in the water. Children’s relationship with water can define their entire lives – whether on a farm dam, or a river, or a beach. For that’s where timelessness is best experienced, by the flow of the stream, or the rhythm of the tides.
The flow of the day is determined by the weather; the sun, the wind, the temperature. After a day or two, one adopts an entirely new way of living.
OK. But why is any of this meandering day-dreaming of any relevance to our lives today? For this reason: Because it seems, often, that so much of children’s lives today is the antithesis of all this.
The polar opposite. It’s about upskilling, upgrades, extra lessons, more “development”. Sooner, better, faster.
Too many parents fail to understand that childhood is not preparation for adulthood. Childhood is an end in itself.
And the most fortunate children get to spend time with their grandparents, on remote little patches of farmland, somewhere.
* Murray Williams’ column ’Shooting from the Lip’ appears in the Cape Argus every Monday.
Cape Argus