Recently, I had the delightful honor of chaperoning a few enthusiastic young people to the children’s museum. After sampling many of the activities, my group gravitated towards the waterways exhibit and settled into various roles. The kids tried out serving as jet guiders, as lost boat fetchers, as cheering squad members and as crank turners. Sure, the waterways experience wasn’t without its slipups (see what I did there), but all in all, each kid took a turn with calling the shots, helping out at various levels from grunt to decision-making, and even standing aside to give encouragement.
Throughout life and no matter how old we are, we end up assuming many roles, and stepping into positions that may or may not bring us joy, but are still necessary to fulfill. Observing young people navigate shifting roles reminded me that taking turns is a perennial theme that flows through the human experience.
At the waterways exhibit, some roles were definitely more laborious that others, and each carried specific drawbacks, such as getting soaked while angling the jets just right, or being required to gingerly walk along the edge of the exhibit without slipping in order to rescue or redirect the lost boats. At a certain point, the kids tired of their respective posts, and after some negotiating or (ahem) pointy elbows to nudge out the person who was reluctant to step away, they each got a chance to try out different jobs. I quietly idled nearby, marveling at how little humans instinctively help one another out, revel in the fun times, and diligently slog through a less than desirable task all in the name of being in community, working towards common goals and caring for one another.
The longer I’ve been a parent, the more I’ve come to appreciate how turn taking prepares us for how we relate to others, and the various roles we must uphold throughout life, often layering multiple hats simultaneously. From standing in the spotlight, cheering for and lifting others up, offering support and warmth, to needing assistance, we take turns at offering, giving, and receiving care. Compassion is what flows between us, the gift that must be kept in circulation, lest it stagnate.
Now that I’ve been a human for a while, I see that sometimes we don’t fully appreciate or occupy our position, always looking ahead to what’s next. Whether we’re suddenly in the spotlight for a glorious 15 seconds, or navigating a painful or stressful situation, actually being in our feelings and standing in the moment can allow us to gather gorgeous memories or perhaps equip us to help others to soak up the goodness when they themselves are in a coveted phase of life.
For instance, I was an anxious mess when I got married despite having a loving community, sweet partner, gorgeous location and perfect weather. I couldn’t allow myself to marinate in the joy of taking my turn as The Bride. Except now with my own experience as inspiration, I can do my very best to allow other people to step into their special moments of shine, to bask in the magic of happy times.
I suppose this an overly verbose way of sending out yet another gentle reminder that change in indeed coming for all of us, one way or another. We all will take our turns in various roles, stages of life, and in relation to one another. So please allow yourself to unfurl into times of joy, show up and support when others are struggling, and graciously accept support when you need it.
Please know that no matter what roles you hold now, they will shift and evolve over time as we take our turns being served and in service to one another. Part of our duty as humans is to keep the gift of compassion in circulation, by giving and receiving around and around again.
By the end of the museum visit, each kid was exhausted, disheveled, and ready to go home, not unlike how many us of arrive at the end of life. No matter what kind of waters we navigate or if our boat gets stuck on the sidelines, we still need one another to help us get home.
Chelsea Sunday Kline is an author and big hugger who was recently appointed the executive director at Cancer Connection.