I'm too old for this

Dominique Browning wrote a piece for the New York Times titled, "I'm too old for this." It resonated. Not just the first part of the article about the deterioration of our looks at 60, but mostly the latter part of the article on the freedom to ditch old baggage and suffocating expectations. She was finally going to be herself. The idea of living light and right always perks me up. Then my family intervened.

And the rains came.

I'm not "chatty." When I do talk, I talk too loud. I think too deep. I care too much. In writing, particularly on Facebook, where developing thoughts should never be written lest a misunderstanding occur, I write them, hoping for a connection, or someone on the receiving end to help me grab my thinking and move forward. I always intend to be meaningful, and most of the time caring (except for incidents where hate speech is involved- but that is a different topic for another time).

Apparently, I should just shut up. Basically, that's what I think I'll do.

How does this jibe with the, "I'm too old for this" freedom we are supposed to have at a certain age? It doesn't, at least not if you care at all about what others think, which is basically the point of the article.

You shouldn't care. And I do. I do a lot.

 

Looking for a clear view

I worry about this because it means my development is stunted, and I'll never be free. I believe in my heart I've done the right thing. But, I'm shamed. I retreat and apologize. Then feel awful, because I've reconstructed the incident to be what I'm told it was. But, it wasn't. At least for me.

Not that many months ago, I sat with one of my mentors in Sri Lanka sharing lunch. He spoke about his attempts to not speak negatively. But, he said that whenever he opened his mouth, judgments came out. His answer was to meditate and be mute.

I'm with him. And I wish others would come along.

My Life's Lesson

I know my Life's Lesson.

It should be etched on my brain because I keep forgetting it, and that act of forgetting triggers some cosmic event that makes me remember it over and over again. This weekend it was an event with my son J that whacked me back into alignment. The thromping always hurts, and not less each time, like you might suppose would happen, considering that I replay the lesson again and again.

It all started on Friday night. The whole family went to a dinner in honor of one of LSU's best alumni fundraisers-- a dear friend and the children's surrogate grandfather. I was proud of all of us for showing up, despite having to meet a report deadline that night, in R's case; despite no babysitter and little grandchildren in attendance, in D & B's case; and despite it taking up a chunk of a Friday night, in J's case.

So, there I was basking in the glow of my priorities-in-alignment-family when J and I began to hyperfocus on each other. He thought I was moving too fast, and talking too loud, and I thought he seemed a little too pulled apart, at loose ends; discombobulated. I'm like Pavlov's Dog. Once I see what I think are signs of a lack of focus, I start drilling him on his life. How's school? Is he going to class? Is he studying? How are his grades? Should he be going to that outdoor concert, on Spring Break, out later? This despite him getting great grades last semester, and "A"cing all of his tests last week.

This makes him talk louder, move quicker and back away. The last text I received from him before bed was, "there is always some sort of miscommunication between us."

Gah.

And even if these great academic accomplishments were lacking, I mean, really, is it my nagging that is going to steer him on the right course? I think not.

So, what's my Life's Lesson?

My lesson is the pain I inflict on myself and my loved ones when I try to control them. It's not like I want to keep J -- or anyone else for that matter -- from having fun. Really. It's just that I don't want him to do anything that would make him experience something bad. So: go to class everyday; do your homework; get enough sleep; don't overdo it; find a nice girl; Then you won't: get bad grades; drop your classes; flunk out of school; lose your scholarship; be arrested; get hurt.

You think this is normal for a mother, don't you? Well, I did too until I realized -- over and over again unfortunately -- that if he doesn't experience these "bad" things, or others like them for himself he won't be able to learn the life skills to be able to achieve the very things I want for him.

It's not when will he ever learn?


It's when will I ever learn?

I am so dense.

It's not the things I want for him.

It's the things he wants for himself.