Little experiences are often overlooked. It surprises me how tiny observations can have profound meaning.
It was Wednesday morning, I pulled into a preschool parking lot to perform a children’s concert.
While unloading my car, a mom arrived with a young boy probably three years old. He had a super ball that bounced out of his hand and into the road. The mom grabbed his arm to keep him from running into the busy street.
I did not expect to hear him make the same exact sound my sisters made when they learned my dad died. It was an unmistakable death wail, spontaneous and deep from one’s soul.
What I call “Super ball moments” are brief experiences of trauma. What we associate about the trauma is more dangerous than the pain itself. There can be lifelong consequences when we decide to connect beliefs of what the situation means to our identity.
There are countless reactions that could come from this super ball experience.