What a Hermit Crab Taught Me About Slowing Down

Kids are born knowing how to be present. The rest of us have to relearn it, and often, they're the ones who teach us.

The Hermit Crab

We were on Oahu when one of my sons, who was 14 at the time, found a little hermit crab on the sidewalk.

He was completely in awe of it. He didn't want to pick it up or move it along. He wanted us to wait until it made it all the way across the sidewalk and into the grass.

So we waited.

I loved watching him. He was patient enough to let that crab take its time, and he didn't want anyone interrupting it. He wanted it to be witnessed.

Left to myself, I probably would have scooped it over to the grass or walked right past. That's the adult reflex: help it along, fix it, keep moving. My son didn't need anything to happen faster. He wanted to see it happen.

Kids do this without thinking. The question is whether we'll slow down long enough to let them show us.

 No Phones at the Dinner Table

At our house, we have a rule: no phones at mealtime. They go in the other room, and we've been doing it for almost a decade now.

It started one day when we were all sitting together and I looked around and realized we were in the same room, but not in the same space. Everybody was off in their own little world.

With a family our size, we get so little time together as one big group. I didn't want to spend it looking at the tops of everyone's heads.

So we made the rule, and here's the funny part. Everybody enforces it, mostly because everybody secretly wishes they had their phone. If someone sneaks one out, whoever else is at the table calls them on it. Nobody wants to be the only one who had to put theirs away.

It's not perfect. But for a little while each day, we're actually talking to each other.

What Denali Taught Us

When I climbed Denali with my son Jacob in June 2026, we spent 13 days on the mountain with no cell service. Honestly, you don't miss it. The days are so full there's no room for it anyway.

A few days in, the conversations change. There's no stream of new input pulling you in a hundred directions, so you get to experience each other.

You build things together and make decisions together. You hear the weather report called in, meet other climbers, and learn how they're making their decisions. Your whole world gets smaller, and somehow richer.

Why the Uncomfortable Part Matters

I've found that a few days without outside input is one of the best things I can give my kids.

It's uncomfortable at first. Then they realize how uneasy they felt without it, and that surprises them. They notice how often they'd been reaching for something to fill every quiet moment.

That second realization is the one that sticks. They see it for themselves, and you can't teach that with a lecture.

How to Be Present With Your Kids: Try This at Home

Let one moment finish. The next time your child is absorbed in something small, like a bug, a puddle, or a crab crossing the sidewalk, don't move it along. Wait with them until it's done.

Make one phone-free zone. Pick the dinner table, the car, or the first ten minutes after school. Make it a family rule, not a mom rule, and let everyone enforce it.

Take the input away for a while. You don't need Denali. A camping weekend, a cabin with bad reception, or a Saturday with the phones in a drawer will do. Expect it to be uncomfortable at first. That's how you know it's working.

Your kids already know how to do this. Today is a someday. Let them show you.

Frequently Asked Questions

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