On the cusp of skiing a real mountain.
On the cusp of swimming.
On the cusp of sitting with a book for hours on end, hopelessly seized by a story.
All this latent potential, this ability waiting to be possessed, realized...
He has it. He's growing it. Little by little. Day by day.
But he waits for it. He works steadily. He rushes nothing. There is no frustration, no impatience, no impetuous stomping of feet.
"I love riding my bike," he says as we put his bike away to head in from the cold. "It's fun to learn."
"I love learning how to ski," he tells me at the foot of the bunny hill.
After he finishes our bedtime story, he says, "Learning to read is fun."
The outcome, the goal, the skill itself is secondary to the joy of acquiring and building and improving.
I get his perspective, understand his love of learning completely. But I am amazed he has such insight at five.
May he always be so wise.