On Monday I was at the rheumatologist for a check up and decided to swing by Nijiya on Post Street to pick up a few bento boxes for the family.
I’ve been mainly a stay-at-home dad for a year now, and it’s taken me this long to be aware – to take a pause in – the act of small gifts. I’m not quite sure how to explain it but seeing how tickled my daughter at getting a surprise onigiri (her favorite food discovery in Japan), and realizing that most days she’s probably hungry and ready for a snack after school, also sparked a little joy within me.
Seeing my wife get off a difficult set of meetings and having some of her favorite food already there for lunch, her relish at her moment of small happiness during the day felt like a hug for me.
I can’t put it into words yet; I’ve always liked giving gifts and thinking about others. It’s just that for the longest time recently, it’s hard to spend time on family things when in the back of my mind, I’m thinking about my paused career or jobs or projects delayed. I’ve always been an anxious sort of person, and my anxiety often works within the confines of opportunity costs. So even when I’m doing something worthwhile, I’m thinking about what else I should be doing, what’s a better use of my time.
Staying at home and going through domesticated life makes this habit turn ugly at times. I get resentful because the time that I’m prepping dinner eats into the time I can be building a business. The time that I play with my kid cuts into the time where I’m staying up to date on tech.
But on Monday, somehow, the circle was closed. I was present in my giving. And in return, I was given a spark of joy, a feeling of wholeness that allowed me to sit between the alternate paths and not worry or frustrated.
Somewhere along the way to adulthood I forgot how to give freely and how great that feels. It feels good.