Releasing Those We Love

When I practice releasing those I love, I think about Cheryl Strayed’s beautiful phrase, “Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” Those words soothe me, every single time.

Today I need to hold this idea close, as William left this morning with 70 over-excited grade 7 kids on an outdoor ed camping adventure. My son is not a person who enjoys rugged outdoor activities, new culinary tastes, sleeping away from home or doing anything remotely challenging or stressful. These factors all added up to why he desperately needed to go.

When I dropped William off with his sleeping bag, pillow and suitcase in the gym, one of the grade 7 teachers said to me, “These kids are anxious because they think about stuff instead of actually doing it.” I’ve been spouting a version of this for years and intellectually I know it to be true, but the emotional pull of our children’s fear is a powerful magnet for a parent.

When the trip was first discussed at a meeting early in 2019, several parents gasped audibly when the teachers said NO cell phones would be allowed on this outdoor ed trip. We’ve all become accustomed to reaching our kids to check in or help them solve problems. The concept of the kids being on their own for three days is a harder sell in our texting world than it would’ve been in my own childhood thirty-some years ago.

I know he’s going to do fine. They all will. At thirteen, kids need to practice building memories and skills apart from their parents. Jason was willing to sign up as a chaperone, but William insisted he wanted to go on his own. So we took him at his word, even as the trip drew closer and his anxiety began to bloom.

These next three days are a wonderful opportunity for me to release William. He’ll need to solve his own problems, create his own memories, confront his own fears. We’ve helped him get to this point, and we believe he’s ready for this step (even if he’s not entirely sure). I will continue to think about him, wondering how his activities, meals and bedtimes are going, but I will stay in that small, quiet room of acceptance.

As parents, we have to practice for the next stage along with our beloved kids. We cannot hold on, begging them to stay small and dependent. The job is to nurture a dependent baby and turn them into an independent adult. Each step the parent and the child takes toward this goal is important, so that when the day comes for them to pack up and move out, we have all improved at releasing those we love to find their own way.

Choose Hope

Choose Hope

Lately the state of the world has me in despair. The overt signs of fascism being normalized sends darts of fear down my spine.

Last week I had to order myself off of Twitter and Facebook. What I read there about missing children and legalized border atrocities was too horrible to wrap my mind around. It’s impossible to understand how this type of poisonous hatred has taken hold and why more “decent/moral/truthful” people are not doing anything about it.

I intentionally shut down the angry, terrible, cesspool internet and went for a long walk in the spring sunshine. I wrote on my deck, chapter after chapter of my novel with scenes of hope and beauty to combat my abject anxiety and despair. I went swimming in our lovely townhouse complex pool. I re-read old John Grisham thrillers. I hugged my kids, kissed my husband, texted my friends, petted my two cats.

We all have to do what we can to inject love and compassion back into our damaged world. If we truly believe that love will win out in the end, as the Allies believed in the darkest days of WWII, then it’s up to us to live each day like it’s reasonable to hope for decency and kindness to prevail over racism, bigotry and patriarchal abuse.

Part of choosing hope also means standing up to tyranny and evil. This involves using our voices publicly, while we can, to speak for those who are marginalized and oppressed. It means taking to the streets to protest. We need numbers in this fight, for democracy and freedom is what’s on the line here. If the news doesn’t frighten you yet, stream The Handmaid’s Tale season 2 and watch as they lay out the signs of democracy breaking down, step by step. Then, move away from denial, speak up and get involved.

Spread light and encouragement and hope and inclusiveness. When you see evil, hatred and cruelty, with someone’s dignity under attack, call it out (online or in person). Give your voice to those who struggle to be heard. There is no such thing as “neutral” in the political and social landscape we are in midway through 2018. You are either on the side of inclusive love or exclusive hate. A world war was literally fought to resolve this, and yet here we are again, seven decades later, facing similar and devastating threats to freedom and democracy.

I’m choosing hope. And love. And tolerance. I’m looking to the unshakeable optimism and energy of millennials and coming alongside them to offer my help. Hopefully they can achieve what us Gen-Xers have failed to do. Wringing my hands in despair is not going to move us forward into a new and better age. We need boldness, courage, grace, dignity, love.

And hope.

Content

Content

It’s no small thing to be content. To stop pursuing happiness in order to recognize, just for a moment, that you are already happy.

Everyone’s life is made up of seasons. Some are sweet, and others are agony. One month can feel like a year, slogging through shoulder-high mud, and the next can fly by in a blur of ordinary days. And yet some seasons are special in undefined ways, where we are lucky enough to see that it’s all going to plan and we laugh quite a bit and our days and nights are mostly smooth sailing.

I feel like we’re in one of those sweet seasons right now. We are out of the demanding little-kid stage and the teenaged years have not brought the promised wreckage others predicted in doomsday tones. We enjoy spending time with our kids and I love seeing the daily fruit of our number one parenting motto: Don’t Be An Asshole.

To me, contentment means not longing for something other than what you have. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, with practices like daily meditation to help me stay anchored in the present moment along with careful boundaries in my relationships making a big difference to my calm state of being.

Some of this is just a decision. My pursuit of happiness was never-ending and exhausting, so I decided to simply be happy instead. To want less instead of having more. To go simpler when the rest of the world is complex. To create beauty inside of myself and cultivate it so that it blooms. To need less from other people and ask for more from myself.

It’s really damn good. We are capable of so much more than we think. When we push past fear, a whole new existence is on the other side. For a lifelong people-pleaser, to truly not care what others think of me or my parenting or my friendship choices or my work or my weight or my fashion is unbelievably liberating. It’s a kind of freedom I couldn’t have conceived of a decade ago. And now I’m living it and not interested in asking for anyone’s permission or approval.

When we can live as ourselves in a world that works hard to get us to be something inauthentic, we have traveled a great distance toward contentment. Anything that takes you further from your intuitive self and invites negative energy into your safe space can be abandoned. I’m learning not to put myself in so many uncomfortable situations. Life is precious and important and sacred. I make my decisions with that in mind now.

Trying to make other people happy is a dead-end road. It’s not a good goal. Figure out what you need, first and foremost, and design your life around that. The people you love most will benefit indirectly from your contentment and healthy choices. Simplify wherever possible. Your time and energy is valuable. Don’t spend it on people who give nothing back to you but stress and frustration. You simply do not have to live that way. All you need is the word “no” and you’ll be free.

Contentment is a worthy goal. Invest in whatever gets you closer. If you are moving further away, look at your decisions and see where you went wrong. And it’s okay if not everyone is happy with you, as long as you are happy yourself.

The Direction of Your Dreams

The Direction of Your Dreams

Are you walking in the direction of your dreams? Is there an activity or a pursuit that makes your heart beat a little faster when you imagine yourself engaged in it? If so, are you moving toward this?

If not, why not? Fear? No money? Not enough time?

The older I get, the more I see that courage is what counts when going after your dreams. You don’t have to be rich, but you do have to be brave. You don’t have to be organized, but that does help when it comes to managing your time. However, anyone can learn to be organized.

Guts and perseverance are really the two biggest ingredients. JUST START. Don’t think your way into the things you want most. You have to work your way in by going after it and not taking no for an answer.

This week I’m in Edmonton, presenting four sessions at a large teachers’ convention. In 2015, I submitted three proposals to a Calgary teachers’ convention after going into Ava’s grade six class to run a fiction writing workshop. Her teacher encouraged me to submit to the district conference, even though my first instinct was, “Who in the world would want to listen to what I have to say?”

I pushed through my timidity and submitted. When I was offered contracts for February 2016 I was terrified but went with my knees knocking (it was cold but I was also nervous!) to stand up in front of a room of teachers and talk about writing and run a literary salon.

Last winter I upped my courage and submitted all over the place. I spoke at three major conferences in Alberta and this year I’m traveling every week of February to speak again. I’m less anxious this time because I know I am up to this task. I have some new material this year that I can’t wait to deliver and see how it lands as I’m considering writing a non-fiction book proposal on it.

I looked over my writing, speaking and acting goals at the beginning of this year and I realized that I am actually living out my dreams. I’m still inching away toward some of the biggest ones, for sure, but the areas I’m focused on for my career and my overall life are satisfyingly real. It’s so freeing and exciting to use your best talents in our world. And after many years of not receiving an income, to earn money for the things I’m good at and I love doing is marvellous.

How about you? What’s your big dream? Are you moving closer to it? I promise you, it’s not as far away as you might think it is.

Letting Go

Letting Go

Ava went to a 3 day leadership retreat with her school this week. It was for the student government to plan events for the upcoming school year. She brought the paper home the first week of classes, her face alight with enthusiasm, and I felt, for a single moment, as though I was looking into the future with her away more than she’s at home.

It was both wonderful and sad, all at the same time (doesn’t that describe a lot of parenting experiences?). Our children grow up and away from us. Over time, we get lulled into a certain type of normalcy, with them coming and going, laughing, making messes, driving us up the wall. Then you begin to  realize that quite soon, they will fly from our nests and begin their own adventures.

I get weary when I hear parents complaining about how much they miss the good old days when their kids were babies. This is not a post about that, for I don’t pine for that bygone era. Our kids are meant to grow older and more interesting and become who they really are. This process is fascinating and stimulating and I have no interest in holding it back.

But it does go by fast. If we do the work of parenting correctly, we are to take a dependent baby and turn that baby into an independent adult. This is the job posting every one of us signed up for when we chose to have children. Some days I find it easy to enjoy the fruit of my labours as a mom when I watch my son and daughter navigating the world on their own. Occasionally I feel as if I’m preparing them well for the rigours of our modern society.

Then there are the other days. The ones where I realize that in four short years Ava will be ready to start university. In two years she will be driving (our Alberta friends can see their teens driving now at fourteen but no such luck for Ava in BC). In grade nine there will likely be invitations to parties and events where we will need to practice, as parents, setting reasonable boundaries for her and then letting go and trusting that she will be safe.

At a certain point, we must trust our precious kids to make their own decisions. This is the preparation they need to be able to succeed in life. To bounce back from hardship, they first must experience hardship. We cannot protect them forever. We should not be protecting them forever.

So much of the job of parenting involves getting out of the way. Moving past our fear and believing that we’ve laid the groundwork for our children to discern right from wrong, to lead instead of follow, to learn from their mistakes.

I am incredibly proud of our fourteen-year-old daughter. She texted a few times from the retreat, happy updates about winning a game of Manhunt in the dark and the pouring rain by hiding in the brambles and dirt, eating pizza for lunch, staying up late chatting with her roommates from older grades.

I remember these types of things from my teen years. They are a rite of passage from childhood to adulthood. We want to support Ava in these adventures and experiences, but it does help to talk openly about what it feels like to be the parent instead of the child.

How do you practice letting go of your kids as they move toward independence and adulthood?