Pensées

Just Sit a Little

It gets very quiet.
Nobody is talking.
There is nothing to do.

Your hands want something.
A toy. A screen. A snack.
Quick, quick, quick!

Grown-ups do this too.
Even a king in a castle.
He wants people to keep him busy.

Why do we grab so fast?
Because quiet lets thoughts in.
Some thoughts feel small and wobbly.
Grabbing something keeps them out.

Say it with me:
Just sit a little.

Let’s try it now.
Sit on the floor.
Put your hands in your lap.
Listen. What do you hear?
What do you feel inside?

Maybe you feel wiggly.
Maybe you feel a little sad.
That’s okay.
You can tell me about it.

Say it with me:
Just sit a little.

Playing is good.
Games are good.
Running and jumping are good.
We don’t have to stop playing.
But we don’t have to run.
Not every time it’s quiet.

Take one slow breath.
Sit a little more.
Now pick a game, and go play.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This is Pascal’s idea of diversion made small. In the Pensées he argues that people fill every quiet hour with hunting, gambling and busy work so they never have to sit with thoughts about how small and mortal they are, and that even a king left alone with himself turns miserable. He also says the chase itself isn’t the mistake; the mistake is believing the next thing will fix everything. So this isn’t a lesson against play. It’s practice at noticing the reach, sitting for one breath, and finding out that whatever comes up can be said out loud to you.

A Funny Hat

This is Sam.
Sam has a big, silly hat.
It has a feather.
It flops over one eye.
Everybody laughs at the hat.

Sam points at the steps.
The bottom step is broken, Sam says.
Nobody listens.
Silly hat, they think.

Bump! Down goes Max.
The step was broken.
Sam was right.

Say it with me:
Listen to the words, not the hat.

Now here is Kim.
Kim has a shiny gold crown.
Kim says the moon is made of cheese.
Everybody nods.
What a shiny crown!

But the moon is not cheese.
The crown did not make it true.

Say it with me:
Listen to the words, not the hat.

A silly hat can’t make words wrong.
A shiny crown can’t make words right.
Our eyes trick us.
They trick grown-ups too.
So we have to check.

Next time someone tells you something,
look past the hat.
Ask, is it true?
Then go and check together.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: In the Pensées Pascal calls imagination the part of us that deceives: give a preacher a hoarse voice or a bad shave and a grave judge stops taking him seriously, however true the sermon, and judges and doctors wear robes because the costume persuades where the knowledge alone wouldn’t. The primer keeps his mechanism, how things look swaying what we believe. The easy flip is fenced on purpose: a silly hat doesn’t make someone right any more than a crown does. The habit being taught is checking.

I Can Think

The ocean is so big.
It goes farther than you can see.
One wave comes in.
Splash! Your sandcastle is gone.

You are small next to the ocean.
A big wave could knock you down.

But here is a secret.
The ocean does not know anything.
It does not know it is big.
It does not know about you.

You know.
You can think about the ocean.
You can think about the stars.
You can wonder why the sky is blue.

Say it with me:
I am small. But I can think.

Thinking does not make you strong.
The wave can still knock you over.
So at the beach, you hold a hand.
You keep watching the waves.

But the wave can’t think about you.
You can think about the wave.
That is your special thing.

Say it with me:
I am small. But I can think.

Now look out the window.
Find the biggest thing you can see.
Think one thought about it.
The big thing can’t do that.
You can.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This is Pascal’s thinking reed. A person is as fragile as a reed, and a drop of water is enough to kill him, yet he is nobler than the universe that crushes him, because he knows it and the universe knows nothing. His full line is about knowing that we die, which is left out here on purpose. The beach-hand beat is the fence: thinking is the child’s greatness, not a kind of strength, so the ocean still gets respect.