“Where well-established rhythms exist, there is much less parental verbiage, less effort, and fewer problems around transitions.” – Kim John Payne
Navigating the connection to one’s parents while developing an independent self is a natural part of child development. Early on, children discover they are separate beings with individual ideas, desires, and autonomy. If they have developed a secure attachment to their parents, one- to two-year-olds will venture some distance away, glancing back to ensure their parent is watching before moving on, reassured by their presence. As they enter the toddler years, the desire for autonomy intensifies, leading children to resist parental directives and sometimes even their presence. Around age two, children realize they can say “no.” Now perceiving themselves as individuals, they can refuse to eat, brush their teeth, go to bed, or even be near us by asserting their will. While this newfound power feels exhilarating for them, it can be frustrating for us. Some adults often feel compelled to explain and reason with these small individuals, believing that our explanations will make perfect sense and prompt conformity. Instead, children repeatedly resist our requests, and our explaining leads to weariness and impatience. Frustration may boil over, causing us to raise our voices and demand compliance to overpower their resistance.
When our son was very young, persuading him to get ready for bed was challenging due to the lack of an established routine. Eventually, I noticed him recognizing and remembering sequences, so I established an order for his tasks. Sequencing makes the world more comprehensible and predictable for small children, helping them feel secure. How often do they ask us to read the same stories or play with the same toys? This fondness for the familiar can be traced back to evolutionary origins—preferring the faces of their tribe kept young ones safe, and recognizing familiar places helped them find their way home. Repetition ensures not only survival and security but also cognitive development. Children learn through repetition, whether it’s the sequence of building blocks for motor skills or reading a story that helps them make sense of the world. From birth to three years old, the highest quantity of neural connections in the brain are formed and as these connected neurons are used repeatably, the strength of their bond is reinforced. This is why the pathway to learning something is through repeated experiences. The cognitive skills learned during preschool focus on ordering tasks, which is a not only an aid to remembering but a precursor to reading and writing comprehension. In short, young children are wired for learning via the rhythm of a repeated, well-ordered routine.
Ordering tasks can be as simple as teaching children a sequence (e.g., brushing teeth, putting on pajamas, reading books, going to bed). You can cut out task-related pictures and place them on the wall or fridge, as children seem to enjoy learning and recalling them. The rhythm of an often-repeated sequence helps ease transitions by creating predictable expectations about what will come next. With older children, they can gradually take ownership of the sequence themselves. Rudolf Steiner, an Austrian philosopher and social reformer, said, “Rhythm replaces strength,” meaning that once a routine is established, it acts as a strong structure that reduces the need for constant direction. You won’t need to explain as much, because the meaning is embedded in the repetition—it becomes implicit.
“Rhythm calms and secures children, grounding them in the earth of family so they can branch out and grow. The rhythms of family life provide consistency; the best ones offer connection.” -Kim John Payne
As a child, I felt the rhythm of time as it passed with repeated events. I awaited the beginning of a new grade with fresh notebooks and sharpened pencils. My sister and I swished through crunchy fall leaves along the sidewalk on our way to school. Autumn signaled trick or treating was near, and after consuming the last pieces of Halloween candy, my family gathered by the fire for Thanksgiving dinner at my grandparents’ house. As winter came, the view from my childhood bedroom gradually became covered with snow, and I watched the flakes swirl beneath the streetlamp outside during the night. A lush spring brought Easter dresses, egg coloring, and preparing for warmer days when we could play in our yard and run through the sprinkler to cool off. Educator and author Kim John Payne eloquently states, “The rhythm of the year and the seasons allowed for joys of anticipation as we waited for what we looked forward to and the security that these events could be counted on.”
While reading Payne’s book, Simplicity Parenting, I was struck by his description of the rhythm of family life as an anchor, creating security where young children begin to see their place in the world. His words resonated with my own experience; this anchor was something I sensed as a child but could not articulate. Through the rhythms of the day and the seasons, I was not only connected to the important people in my life through time and events, but expectations for how I was supposed to act were set for my child self. As a teenager and young adult, whatever struggles I faced regarding identity, romance, or my place in my family or the world, our holiday celebrations, traditions, family vacations, and gatherings anchored me to what was close, personal, and enduring about myself. This secure anchor helped me relate to others and develop diverse friendships, as I was less inclined to let others define me. My journey into adulthood, like many, was fraught with mistakes but also filled with unique experiences and enduring relationships. Those anchors—the familiar rhythms of my life—made me feel secure through difficult times.
As I grew into adulthood, I needed to let go of beliefs and traditions from my upbringing that no longer resonated with me to develop my own identity. Because I was connected to fundamental values and important people in my life, letting go felt possible. As a mother, I strive to provide my children with experiences that are meaningful to me while blending with my husband’s childhood traditions and negotiating his propensity for novelty. Wherever we go, my husband finds great new restaurants and fun activities—he’s adventurous and loves to “change it up,” but he’s less attached to routine and tradition than I am. I’ve come to understand that the goal is not for our family to remain unchanged forever, but to stay connected so that while we evolve, we can maintain what is essential, joyful, beautiful, and meaningful. Additionally, as family and friends evolve, honoring their uniqueness while finding ways to stay connected is vital.
In our home, I have a new window through which I watch the swirling snow alongside my children, sharing the rhythms of our lives. I hope to offer them the same connection to us and to the values we hope they will embrace as they grow into their separate beings. Circling back to the seasons, the traditions we repeat become not only grounding and connecting but also integral to forming identity and making meaning in our children’s lives. Through understanding the self, we make sense of the world around us. “I think, I feel, I remember” is the language we use to process events and find meaning within them.
Lastly, the rhythms of our lives serve as an anchor of security for children in an uncertain world. We won’t be able to control the chaos of our time. Nevertheless, regardless of the generation we inhabit, we can provide rhythm as the anchor that keeps our children intact as they hear, think, feel, and make sense of events outside themselves and the experiences within as they grow up.