Trust Yourself

Dear Ashby,

A song by Paul Simon to his daughter came on the radio about a week ago.  I had heard it before, but it struck me this time because he advised her to trust her instincts.  He didn't say, don't talk to strangers, don't do drugs, don't be a sore loser...this concept intrigues me!  What a fabulous and brilliant instruction!

What are instincts and intuition?  We are born with them, they are built in.  Our parents try to convey the weight of their life lessons to enhance their offspring's intuition.  Also, is built in.  I feel certain that the sigh and eye-roll response from the child is also built in.  Talk is cheap.  Experience is a better teacher than a parent.  This is hard to admit as a parent, and I don't plan to share this with you for a long time!

While the desire to try out our intuition comes early in life, as a parent I see now that it's harder to let you experience failure authentically, than it is to protect you from it.  If I'm shouting with my inner voice, how will you be able to hear your own?  I want you to have the chance to choose good over evil as you learn the consequences.  If you learn that your instincts are valid when the stakes aren't as high, then you'll be a pro by the time your life may depend on it.  I have to trust that I've done my job.  If you have the chance to fail and succeed on your own (based on your own best judgement), then you'll know who and what to avoid and you won't question or ignore your inner voice.

The fact of the matter is, I don't want you to need me to get by.  But letting go isn't an easy task, nor is the process clear-cut.  I'm not going to let you stay up until midnight, eat unlimited amounts of candy or watch TV until your big blue eyes turn red.  Instead, I have been practicing asking you questions to get a feel for your perspective.  My goal is to uncover and observe your strengths first, then help bring them to light and develop them into what will serve you best.  It's hard not to ask you leading questions once I form my opinion and it's really hard to not tell you what I think or what you should do or how you should feel...I'm pretty sure by the time you read this, you will understand that this is an understatement.  The practice benefits me, too. I want to trust and act on my own instincts more reliably and this keeps me focused on it.  

I've seen you choose to do the right thing in an unprovoked way. You'll tell me that you already had a bath at dad's as your eyes dart away from mine.  If I try to call you on it, you'll deny, deny, deny!  But if I ask a follow up question in a non-accusatory manner, you'll pretty much confess that you haven't bathed by the end of your next sentence.  I can't tell you how happy I am when that happens.  What a brilliant child you are!  I don't blame you for testing me, you're a worthy opponent.  I grow more proud of you each day.

“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.” ~Albert Einstein

I hope to help us both remember our gift.  I love you.

Mom

Death and Love

Dear Ashby,

Your dad used to say, 'He's just sleeping,' if we were watching a movie that showed someone dead lying there to make me feel better.  When you and I play you often say that you got killed but your story always contains your return to life.  Oh, how I wish that were true and that you would never realize that death isn't temporary.

We have recently lost some family and friends and how wonderful it would be if they would return to us.  How wonderful it would be if we could have stopped time when we were singing Delta Dawn on the front porch, or when parents laid eyes on their children for the first time, or when we would gather together in a backyard and share our family's signature recipes as we enjoyed eachother's stories of the past and present.  How wonderful it would be to sit on a lawn chair and catch up while the second and third cousins laugh and play around us.  How wonderful it would be to hear stories again told by voices we will so dearly miss.

When someone leaves us, neither pagan nor Pope can know with certainty their fate.  Human compassion for our fellow man in the name of God (and for it's own sake) is limitless.  We cannot think that God's compassion could be less our own.  It's possible that the rules man has interpreted as God's law could be the same as a young child's understanding of gravity.  Isn't there room for more humility in our mortal interpretation?  The pain of loss and mourning is enough to bear, there's no question for me that we all return home.  You may interpret 'home' as you wish, Son.        

We come in and leave this world touching the hearts of so many people around us.  There are beloved family members that you never got to meet and some that died before you were old enough to remember them.  It's impossible to know how long we'll have the gift of their company.  When we lose someone our thoughts always return to our time with them like movies in our minds.  The pain is ours to bear, their pain has ended.  Is it possible through this pain to celebrate them?

What more can we do but remember that smile and laugh?  Remember the times you were there for each other when things weren't so good and times their existence made things better.  Remember the love given and received and all of the reasons that endeared them to us.  Maybe all that we can do is make sure the time with have with those who are beside us now is something we can look back on and celebrate.  And through the pain of loss lean on each other and know the pain is shared just as the love.



I hope it will be a very long time before you have think about these things. I hope you won't find out for a very long time that these days we live together now will one day be in the past.  But, if there's anything I want to know about death and loss, it is that love will always remain as brilliant and real as it is right now.

I love you,
Mom