If you don’t mind, whatever day it is when you read this blog, please wish my son an exciting, challenging, and evolutionary 18th year (it’s his birthday). Thank you!
Okay, so here is the latest incantation of my machinations.
I have spent my life being a Decider. As a young girl, I was put in the role by my parents, and I have been a proud card carrying member of the Super Duper Decider’s Club ever since. Over the course of my life, I have developed (probably like a lot of you) laser-like abilities to size up a situation, weigh the potential choices and their possible and/or probable results, and decide what needs to be done. I believe I even carry a certain amount of arrogance about the superhuman level of skill I have acquired. And, once the decision is made (usually in a single blink of an eye), it is full steam ahead…no course correction allowed.
Now, I have happily habitually followed my Decider my entire life without so much as a moment of reflection about it. It is a big part of who I am. So why, you might ask, would I think about it now? Because exactly 18 years ago to the day (and just about the hour and the minute), something entered my life that always stops me dead in my autopilot tracks.
Yes, that “something” would be my son.
I have been content to go merrily along in my life, not noticing how my decisions for or about others affects them… until I finally see it through my son. And this is exactly what bubbled up for me yesterday. I realized that I may have affected my son’s ownership of his uniqueness because I had, on some level, decided who he was going to be and refused to see anything else.
I sat down and really thought about this way of living my life.
And I don’t want to live here anymore.
I don’t want to live here anymore because it is constricting for me and for others whom I love. It closes doors that could lead me to a more accepting, and more exciting, and a more supery-dupery evolution of my thoughts, beliefs, and experiences.
So, I’m packing up and moving across town into Inquiry and Curiosity. They sound a lot more interesting to me at this point in my life. If I am curious and inside asking questions instead of producing answers, a lot more doors and windows are available to walk through, to invite others in through, to let in the sun and the breeze, and, yes, even the rain can enter and be woven into the fabric of my life.
Time to reserve my truck at U-Haul.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, I didn't decide to make this move in my habitual single-blink-of-an-eye way.
Eighteen blinks felt just about perfect.
No comments:
Post a Comment