to my daughter
April 18, 2016 § 2 Comments
Yesterday afternoon we stole away for a moment of girl time among new acquaintances and old friends. It was your second birthday party since our move and the first one that pushed you outside your comfort zone.
I’m convinced the world can be divided into those who can roller skate and us.
I considered demanding you skate, there was even a fleeting moment of guilt induced pressure for me to lace up and drag us both through a painful display of determined whimsy. In the end, I decided to leave my socks at home and allowed you to bring along a quiet activity to fill the time between the others’ laps.
I told you in the car that it can be brave to go against the grain, to recognize your fear and stand safely where you can breathe. There are going to be times in your life when that reservation will keep you safe and give you the clarity to work through the risks and consequences of your choices. I secretly hoped you might change your mind, but allowed you space enough to choose.
It was only after pizza, when the party was winding down, that I spotted you trading your tennis shoes for skates. It may have been the longest, slowest test of will, there was no natural ability or mastery in your effort, but there was an exquisite vulnerability in stepping outside your comfort zone and wearing your fear in a demonstration of stubborn optimism.
Just as it is brave to stand in a solitary self truth, there is strength of character in reaching past your fears and holding tightly to another. We don’t have to be brave alone any more than we have to be perfect. Friendship gives us a safe place to fail colorfully.
Love, Mom
trust
January 3, 2016 § 3 Comments
As part of my wholehearted year I am embracing exercises in self; unique opportunities to challenge my assumptions and grow more open to a perspective that encourages accountability with greater understanding.
A perpetual student of curiosity with messy, imperfect efforts at intentional living I am consistently encouraged by the work of Brené Brown who speaks on subjects that intrigue and elude me; inspire and inform greater consciousness. This morning, coffee in hand, I listened as Brené spoke on the subject of trust.
In her lecture, Brené sounds out the significance of trust within the intimacy of our most vulnerable confidants; identifying the ways we trespass trust when we speak unkindly, disingenuously, or share information that is not ours.
I have sacrificed relationships that consumed considerable space in my life for the peace of security when my trust was undermined by this very behavior. Individuals who spoke ill from different sides of a mouth that smiled falsely.
It is a heartache I elude with avoidance, but what of my offerings? It would be easy to shy away from my errors in judgment, so I am looking tenderly today at those places where I may learn from difficult mistakes.
I have broken others’ trust with passive dishonesty; dancing around uncomfortable conversations with polite silence or performing acts of complicity as currency for trust. This year I want to wade into the discomfort of my vulnerability and honor, with integrity, those boundaries that demand respect to preserve trust.
To live wholeheartedly in trust.
within reach
December 12, 2011 § Leave a comment
This holiday I hung my children’s advent calendars lower on their doors, a gesture of trust and an act of faith. I heightened temptation placing tiny indulgences just within reach. I simultaneously raised the bar for good behavior.
Silly or trite, this one act is a metaphor for greater lessons. Each day I try to guide my children towards a future filled with opportunities where risk and ethics challenge them to make choices that will reward them with meaningful relationships, personal success, and emotional fulfillment. They must be able to navigate around danger mindfully, without living in fear of a mistake; secure in their own boundaries but not limited to the sidelines.
I watched bemused as my children noted the lowering of the candy and stood taller with heightened pride. The treats were always within reach, I just eliminated the need for a chair with trust.
these boots were made for talkin’
October 1, 2011 § Leave a comment
For years my daughter favored an inexpensive pair of black mary jane dress shoes. So well-loved were her shoes that she would fill in scratches with a black permanent marker until we were forced to replace them in a new size. Recently, my daughter has outgrown old favorites, creating a new experience.
Not one for shopping, I appealed to my daughter’s love of playing dress-up and we set out to try on new favorites. I met my match in creative opposition over a pair of shiny, black knee-high boots that seemed to scream “not old enough.” I am sure my daughter heard my doubts clamoring noisily in my head.
Stubborn, she stuffed her feet and baggy pants into the boots and paraded around the display tables. Eyes sparkling, she gauged my reaction, clearly anticipating a no. Instead, I countered and caught her off-balance. I said yes.
Once home, I embraced her new exercise in independence by outlining appropriate clothing choices for her new look. Together we felt around blindly at new boundaries. We broadened our choices from color and size to embrace self-respect and self-expression. The following day, dressed in her boots and an outfit I approved of, my daughter’s feet barely touched the ground as she walked to school.
Hand in hand, my little girl thanked me for her boots. She said they made her feel respected. I listened, entranced as my daughter opened up. My yes was really a validation of my daughter’s independent spirit, and an exercise in trust. She knows I am listening and I know she hears me.
a question
March 16, 2011 § Leave a comment
In an empty classroom, with only a teacher and myself as witnesses, my son approached a classmate and inquired, “Why do you treat me differently when other people are around?” There was no anger in his tone, but confusion and hurt in his large, unblinking eyes. Looking at the boys I touched my son’s shoulder and stepped just outside the room giving him a moment to receive whatever answer the boy offered; my absence inviting honesty in a neutral space.
This is a familiar heartache; my son seeking acknowledgment among his peers. I recall a moment when he was younger; smiling and eager he raced toward his Kindergarten classmates, a tangle of arms dramatically high fiving. My son reached the boys, arm raised overhead, only to be greeted by their backs. Confused, he lifted one boy’s arm high demonstrating the greeting they saved for one another, but could not share with him. The boy’s arm fell heavily to his side and my son’s smile fell from his face. As his classmates poured into the school, my son remained rooted to the sidewalk, head down. I waited beside him, until he was ready to look up. It was my son’s first rejection, a moment of childhood unkindness that could no more be explained than it could be erased.
Years later, pausing at the threshold of another classroom, I held my breath and waited perched to protect. Seconds felt like an eternity and then my son, standing tall and serene emerged. As we walked to my car, I turned to my son and asked if he wanted to share the child’s answer with me. He shrugged slightly and told me the boy said he “didn’t know why”. There was no clear explanation, but there was something more: self-respect. My son in the sub-context of a sole question sought honesty and fairness.
I stepped to the side and my son stepped forward; each of us trusting he was strong enough to embrace a challenge and accept the outcome. I offered him faith and gave me a beautiful reason to believe. We cannot make everyone like us, but we can insist others treat us with respect.
scribblechic 