Wanted: Parents Who Rock Their Own Lives!

Dear Mom & Dad...

I don't want to be your Everything.

That's not why I'm here.


That's not what I need.


Love me, yes, 

and love me madly, 

but PLEASE!


I don't want to be your 

Only Sunshine.


I want to see the vista of You


stretching far beyond the circle 
of you and me.


I want to feel your attention spanning the horizon.


You ascending, striving, 

 & ever-growing...
    

You rocking your own life.


I want to see you creating new things 

and keeping your dreams.


I want to see 

how you get back up 
when you fall -- 


just like me.



Itty bitty though I am, 

I am a whole person.

And I am resting in a very BIG LOVE 

(even bigger than yours)

I am a whole person


and so are you...
even though you're big!


So BE big!  
Fascinate me!
Show me your glory!

Every day
you are
 telling me
a story...


The story of "What Adults Are."


Please don't make it boring.


My secret hope 

is that growing up


will be an outrageous adventure!

 Is it true?

I am following your gaze...

And here's the rub ~


If YOU 

think too much 

about me...




then I might 

think too much

about me...

& 
something tells me 

that's not why I'm here.

What if instead...

I get to watch you 

diving into others

& loving your friends deeply--


so I know how 

to be a good friend too?

What if I get to watch you 

serving a cause with 
all your heart...


so I learn

how to carry Big Love 
like you?

My Parents,


If I'm blessed enough 
to have two of you,


there's something else 
you should know.

Your love for each other

is a thousand times more nourishing


than a steady diet


of affection

for just 

me, me, me.

(even though that's pretty great too!)

What I really want to see is

just 
how 
BIG

a heart can be...

You teach me the best love

when you lift off and LIVE 
with wild abandon...

When you be what YOU came here to be.

And that ultimate gift
you really, really want for me?
(i.e. to be happy)...

You plant the seeds 

of my future joy

when you show me 
what true happiness looks like...

That's a good story.

So thank you Mom,

thank you Dad,

 for being so fully, beautifully

yourself.

The real you 

(still rocking your own life!)

& loving the real me...

that's 

what I always wanted

when I picked 

Wonderful You

to be my live-in storyteller!

 










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Last Child in the Woods

I often find myself parked on the side of the road 

in a moment of decision.

Go clean the house

OR

Magic...

Wonder...

Discovery.

Golden moments with my boy.

It isn't always easy, 

choosing to be the last child in the woods,

but today it was...perfect.

It's always a major expedition

going down to the river valley floor 

with a 3 year old.

You can't have a timeline.

They do not keep record of the fact that

the farther they go 

the farther they will have to return, 

uphill.

Just the sidewalk to the field is a 10 minute excursion,

then the field to the forest edge will be another 20

because there are bottle caps to collect,

then the forest edge itself will be half an hour 

of helicoptering maple seeds and picking berries.

Interject another 10 minutes because a tractor 

is moving dirt around 

(and it simply must be supervised 

by three year old eyes)

and at last you can begin the descent.

A little object lesson arises on the hill:

There is a lovely yellow pencil hiding in the leaves.

Which quickly becomes a pencil in the hand -

 - in the hand of the boy running down the root-clad hill.

"Oh, I better take that...

if you trip and fall you will poke your eye out!"

or

"Davis, look at all these amazing roots you are going to need two hands to grab onto!"

I tried both.

Amazingly, his grip tightened 

with the first phrase

and loosened when his gaze 

was directed elsewhere.

The right phrase will guide the gaze.

As I said, a little object lesson...

 for me!

How shall I talk to myself?

Like a naggedy nag,

"you shouldn't be so....just stop that...

why are you always..." 

  

What if I just

lift my gaze instead,

to all the things I need both hands 

and my fully present soul 

to really grab on to?

What if I deep breathe, 

loosen my fingers, 

turn off the car,

and go to the wood.....

to the wide open sun drizzled lonely old wood.

Where I,

and my scallywag son

can play 

as One Child...

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