I've been doing a lot of thinking.
I've been thinking about our purpose on this earth; thinking about the gifts of life and agency; thinking about the difference between happiness and joy; thinking about what matters and what does not and which I'm giving my energy to.
As mother of younger children I read an article which set me to thinking. This article talked about the gap that usually occurs between generations regarding values and beliefs. I read that parents shouldn't just assume that their children are going to automatically take their parent's value system as their own. I couldn't imagine this would be true! When every part of the day and night was full of our value system, when everything I tried to do with and for my children spoke our value system, how could they not know and understand?
Dang. I didn't think enough about one thing. That gift of life called "agency".
While these thoughts-and many others-have been swirling around in my head, I read the book The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck. I had never read this book all the way through, and never as a 53 year old mother.
This is what stood out to me from this book:
Our children won't necessarily adopt our value system as their own, even if they've seen us sacrifice for and work and LIVE that value system their whole lives. There isn't an automatic transferral.
hummmm...
What is it that causes some children to automatically walk into their adult lives with the things they've been taught deeply rooted in them and other children to not? Why are some children more easily swayed by the winds of change? Does birth order really matter? What about the space between children? How much of it is just the kind of spirits they came with? How do I, as a mother who wiped away tears and cleaned up blood and tried to always have a hug and a you-can-do-it cheer ready, how do I stand by, and let a child figuratively run out onto a busy highway, without jumping up and down and yelling "Stop! Stop! You're going to get hurt!!" Do I really have to let them get so scratched up?
I guess I do. That agency thing.
I just hope they know that they will always be able to come home for a rest and a mother-hug, there will always be a place for them in my heart and home. I know I can't fix all the hurts the way I once was able to do, but if my arms wrapped around any one of my children can make a difference at any time then I'll do that. I've always been a somewhat ferocious-mother-bear-with-her-claws-out when I sensed any of my children were in danger, and I'm finding that hasn't changed even as they start moving into adulthood.
It is a hard thing to be a mother bear.
5 comments:
Sigh...
How's that for a comment. I don't know what else to say....
-Jen
Shaun, wasn't The Good Earth amazing?
I know what you mean about being Mama Bear. I also value our agency very much even though I don't always like the choices my children make. One of them scares me quite a bit sometimes but we just pray and pray and pray. Nothing bad has happened but I sense a tettering going on that evokes concerns. But bottom line, they have to know for themselves. There are no shirt sleeve testimonies.
Oh that Agency thing----but it also has to do with that Cortex in the front of the brain that takes a number of years to develop. That is why young drivers take chances, or teens go for bungee jumping and other risks. They think they are mature and invincible. Most adolescents assume they are mature and even smarter than their parents. Their emotions rule rather than the thinking park of the brain. You just hope they don't make choices during this time that they will regret down the road but have to live with.
Your adult children are too old to run home to mommy for comfort. Sorry, but that's how it is. It is up to them to make something of their lives, beginning with getting at LEAST a 4 year degree and then decent jobs. Until then, they are caught in a netherworld. They can't defend their way of life if they don't have a "resume" to back it up.
Once they begin to show some success in their lives, then it's difficult for Mommy to complain or be sad.
Oh, and one should never have a serious romantic relationship before age 25. Tom Leykis says, and it's so true, it's a sign of low self estemm. One needs to experience many people during that time, but focus on education and career. The person you are in love with at 16 or 18 or 22 isn't someone you want when you are 30. If that's the case, I would have a bald husband who worked at a gas station.
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