60: (March 2018)
My firstborn daughter’s 28th birthday was yesterday. I remember vividly how I felt in the days shortly after giving birth to her—terrified! I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to protect her from all the dangers in the world. I held that little baby and felt a sense of helplessness; how could I ensure her safety in such an unpredictable world? The maternal instinct to protect roared within me as I struggled to allay my fears, while also being keenly aware that I didn’t want to raise her to be afraid of the world. Days turned into years, another daughter was born, and somehow they grew up.
Last week my husband and I went to visit my firstborn in Mexico City where she lives and works. Mexico City is huge and vibrant, teeming with life and color, and my daughter lives in the midst of it in joy. She’s competent and capable, and lives life like it is just one big adventure. She doesn’t seem willing to miss a second of it! She travels around the world photographing animals and their protectors, combating wildlife trafficking. She’s definitely not holding back; she takes life head on. I’m so happy for her.
I didn’t have to worry.
I visited my younger daughter in Berlin, Germany, five months ago. She too is courageous. The city is big and moves fast, and just maneuvering around the public transportation system made my head spin, but she does it with ease. She moved to Berlin with the hope of finding a job and getting a work visa. She did both. Berlin is a gritty city with a thriving arts scene, predominantly comprised of young people. My daughter wanted to be part of it, and so she is. A music major in college, she teaches at an electronic music and sound engineering school, which is her musical niche. She also does sound for shows and works at a synthesizer shop. I’m thrilled that she has designed the life she envisioned.
I didn’t need to worry.
My daughters have not played it safe. They’ve gone after their dreams, not hampered by considerations that photography and music might not be easy career paths. They didn’t become beholden to cultural dictates of pursuing money over dreams. They don’t seem to give a second thought to tackling moves across oceans or borders, learning new languages, or navigating in complicated cities. I’m so glad.
My daughters don’t need protection. Yes, the world is just as dangerous and scary as it was 28 years ago. But it’s also beautiful, and it’s filled with fabulous animals and new strains of music—and they are experiencing them. Bad things are always possible and happen to people every day. There are many, many things that are out of our control. Given that, the best we can do is teach our children to use good judgment and be grateful when they decide to treat life like the ride of a lifetime and book themselves a front row seat.
40:(March 1998)
“What happens if a gift is given to someone and it is not accepted?” a friend asked. It was an odd question, yet one I had been pondering over for several months. I had been thinking about this question because I have observed how “gifts” are sometimes offered to people—intangible gifts, like love, gratitude, praise, forgiveness—and the person they are offered to is not ready or willing to receive them, for whatever reason. Intangible gifts cannot be forced upon people, any more than a boxed gift can. If the recipient does not want to open it, the gift remains in the land of potential, for a gift is a two-way street; it requires both a willingness to receive as much as a willingness to give.
I have noticed this a lot with respect to love. It is ironic that the world revolves around people trying to get love to such a large extent, but many people seem unable to receive it when it is offered; it has to come from the “right” person, or at the “right” time, or in the “right” circumstance. Then, some people seem to fear losing love so much that they sabotage themselves and never open the “box.” Others want different wrapping paper, so discard the love offered, only to seek it in a more attractive container. Perhaps some people decline gifts because they feel unworthy of them. Still others are afraid to accept the gift because they do not want to feel obligated to give a reciprocal gift.
But a true gift is given with no strings attached. A true gift is given wholly out of the heart. I know someone in my town who gives like that. She does so much for the town, be it running events, visiting the elderly, offering free workshops for children, and so much more. She does not want money in return, or accolades; she experiences joy in giving to the community simply to see the pleasure people get from her efforts. She is, herself, a rare gift.
Then there is the endless bounty of gifts the earth gives us: sunrises, sunsets, fall foliage, the sound of water tripping over rocks in a stream. Do we receive them? Or are we too busy to notice the offerings? And if we do not acknowledge the gifts surrounding us, how do those missed opportunities affect us? Might heaven be available to us now, if only we could open our eyes and see it? Are all of us standing in rooms full of unopened, beautifully wrapped gifts that are waiting for open arms and hearts to receive them?
I look around my kitchen. My children’s artwork is covering one wall. Crystals, hung in the window, cast dancing rainbows about the room. My pantry is full of food. I am healthy. And I hear a big, silent thank you uttered from somewhere deep within my soul.
60–40:
As I look back over the years, certain themes are very clear: 1) struggles to overcome fear and 2) learning to practice gratitude, which is essentially learning to receive all the gifts that are given to us on a daily basis. As I reflect on this, the amazing thing is that so many years have passed. So much time, made up of moments and days, and then weeks and months, and finally years. And ‘suddenly’ children are grown and you’ve lived six decades!
The fear recurs. I don’t know if everyone confronts this or just me, but I routinely have to beat it back. For example, if someone in my family gets sick, the battle is on. Or more irrationally, if I have a bad dream, I think maybe something happened to someone in my family, and I panic. It doesn’t happen a lot, but enough to realize that I do indeed need to practice fearlessness on a regular basis so I don’t fall prey to it too often. I need to literally tell myself not to be afraid.
Likewise, I routinely tell myself to be grateful, to be awake to the world around me and all its gifts. It’s easy to slide into a state where your senses are blunted and you no longer startle at the colors of the sky or the sounds made by birds. It is a practice, because it’s something you have to train yourself to do regularly in order for it to become a habit. I love practicing gratitude; it makes me happy.
Maybe practicing fearlessness will get easier for me over time . . . I’ll check in with you in another 20 years.
60-40 