The Unhurried Child

Children play hopscotch in the sun.
Photo by Pablo Merchan from Studio Colombia


By Sarah Russell

 

"What are some of your favorite childhood memories?" I curiously asked a friend, as we watched our young children climbing, swinging, and digging in the sandpit. My friend turned to me, her eyes misty, as she recalled possibly some of her most carefree and magical moments. "I spent hours outside," she began, "Making mud pies, picking flowers in the garden, giving the trees different names and personalities. On a sunny, balmy night, my dad would take us out for a bike ride. I can still remember the smell of the summer's night, the sounds of the cicadas. But my favorite memory is skipping in the backyard with my siblings, until our legs hurt and got tangled in the rope..." She trailed off, lost in her own memories, her stories catching in her throat.

Watching our children wipe beads of sweat from their foreheads with sandy hands, while the others ran barefoot across the grass, I replied, "I remember moments like that too." My voice was tinged with sadness amid the cheerful chaos. "Not only does that seem like a lifetime ago, it feels like a life lost for children," I continued, almost at a whisper, for it felt too sad to speak aloud.

A slow childhood

I fondly recall growing up in Australia with ample space, neighborhood friends, and playing in the neighbors’ houses, all while my mother managed the delightful chaos of three young children and a sizable home. Childhood felt magical, fun, and expansive. We could move about freely, we could explore readily: jumping on the trampoline, running under a sprinkler on the grass, and climbing ladders to explore cubby houses. This was the magic of my generation's childhood. 

What then feels different and lost, as I raise my two young boys, some 35 years on from these cherished memories? A lot. I’ve come to know that the childhood legacy I long to hold onto for my children is known as a “slow or unhurried childhood”. This approach to childhood “is a conscious decision to prioritize quality over quantity in your child’s life. It’s about stepping back from the pressure to over-schedule and create a more relaxed, connection-focused environment.” Core principles include: embracing unstructured play, focus on quality time with your children, simplifying schedules, and following your child’s lead (1).

With depression on the rise for children and young people I’ve come to understand that the problems with children’s mental health are heavily influenced by a shift in the way we as adults view children and therefore raise them (2). There is a robust debate addressing the fundamental belief that children are exposed to more pressure and stress each decade, made worse by the overarching issue of developmental readiness or reality vs expectation. Being in the modern day parenting bubble it’s obvious that: education is generally more academic; school days are longer; children are typically spending more time involved in sedentary activities, engaged in more screen time; schedules, activities, and entertainment extend beyond regular school hours; and weekends are packed with sports, classes, and organized activities. Childhood today is becoming a mini adulthood.

Therefore, turning to a slow approach to raising children might be key in:

• Reducing childhood related stress and anxiety

• Strengthening parent–child bonds

• Boosting children’s creativity and independence

• Enhancing children’s social and emotional development 

• Supporting children’s attention and self-regulation through more regular, meaningful movement.

Living abroad in Bangkok, a bustling city with minimal similarities to my suburban childhood—with differing cultural expectations that shape how we view and raise children—I've found myself increasingly drawn to this concept, and its profound importance in nurturing a healthy and joyful childhood. My interactions with children, whether my own or my clients, are centered around a simple yet powerful mantra: to respect and protect childhood. And in this fast-paced world, that often means actively choosing to slow down and embrace the fundamentals of a childhood that feels most relevant and important to me: slow and unhurried.

How to embrace an unhurried childhood

Embrace a slower family life: Change starts with us as parents. Try to spend more time outdoors, away from technology and screens, especially when in the presence of your children. Discuss and model to your children what downtime, rest, and relaxation looks and feels like. 

Prioritize unstructured play: A cornerstone of childhood, unstructured play allows children to develop creativity, problem-solving skills, and social–emotional intelligence. It fosters imagination and provides a vital outlet for physical activity and exploration without the constraints of adult-imposed rules or goals. 

Embrace boredom and downtime: It might seem counterintuitive, but allowing children to experience boredom can be incredibly beneficial. In our on-the-go society, children are often overstimulated and bombarded with sensory input. Develop a rhythm where children have rest periods and quiet time.

Connection over competition: Focus on nurturing genuine connection within your family. This means prioritizing family meals, reading together, spending time in nature.

Address your own internal underlying beliefs around childhood: Are your thoughts and feelings driven by genuine need, or by external pressures and a fear of "missing out”? For me, slowing down has meant saying "no" to some activities, even if they seem "beneficial". It’s meant embracing the messiness of play, even when it makes me slightly twitchy. It’s meant prioritizing outdoor time, even when the weather isn’t perfect. And it’s meant consciously carving out pockets of unscheduled time in our day, allowing the children to complete chores with me and cook with me.

Of course, this isn't about striving for some unattainable ideal of perfect parenting. There are times when my children watch a screen, when days feel over-scheduled and tightly managed, and when I feel far from the calm, slow-living mum I aspire to be. But it’s about intention, about consciously choosing to lean towards a slower rhythm whenever possible. Respecting and protecting childhood isn’t about shielding our children from the world, but about providing them with the space and time to truly experience it, at their own pace. And in this beautiful, messy, and profoundly important journey of parenthood, slowing down might just be the most radical and rewarding act of love we can offer.

References

1. World Humanitarian Movement (2023) Can Less Be More? Exploring the Benefits Of Slow Parenting. wohum.org/can-less-be-more-exploring-the-benefits-of-slow-parenting/#:~:tex 

2. Twenge, JM; Cooper, AB; Binau, SG; Joiner, T; and Duffy, ME (2019) Age, Period, and Cohort Trends in Mood Disorder Indicators and Suicide- Related Outcomes in a Nationally Representative Dataset, 2005–2017. Journal of Abnormal Psychology 128 (3) 185-199. apa.org/pubs/journals/releases/abn-abn0000410.pdf 

 

Recommended Reading

Free to Learn: Why Unleashing the Instinct to Play Will Make Our Children Happier, More Self-Reliant, and Better Students for Life, by Peter Gray.

The Gift of Failure: How the Best Parents Learn to Let Go So Their Children Can Succeed, by Jessica Lahey.

Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids, by Kim John Payne and Lisa M Ross. 

  

 

About the Author

Sarah Russell is a mother to two young boys and a children’s occupational therapist. Her passion is respecting and protecting childhood, for which a slow and unhurried childhood is a foundational cornerstone. You can connect with Sarah via stamburrini@gmail.com