They must continue to weather the rough seas and seek the answers to the larger questions. They must broach the “pathless wood” with fear yet resolve. The rest is and has always been up to my children. I can only be who I am, no more and no less. Reading this poem on the eve of Mother’s Day I am moved to be kinder to myself. Parenting is synonymous with nature: nurturing, protecting, and wildly unpredictable. “I believe the choice to become a mother is the choice to become one of the greatest spiritual teachers there is.” As a parent, I make every attempt to share this wonder with my children by being the best example I can be. I have only ever wanted to “mingle with the Universe” to seek out the greater truths. It is more a stumbling along, a rocky ride begun with the best of intentions to guide young and impressionable minds. One never really knows how to raise another human being. It never gets easier a parent will always worry for their child. With many dark woods and rough seas left to encounter, this will serve them well.Īs Byron states so well, parenting is inherently a “pathless wood” of uncertainty and trepidation, but one in which a parent must strive to continually find the beauty and grace in this uncertainty. Character has always mattered to me and I am exceptionally proud that they possess strength of character and a genuine love for life. More importantly, they are two of the most loving and generous people I know. The kids have had their foibles, as most will during painful periods of growth, but they are doing well. Thankfully, having the benefit of time to reflect always puts things into greater perspective. “Having kids-the responsibility of rearing good, kind, ethical, responsible human beings-is the biggest job anyone can embark on.” I began to ask myself, had I done enough? Had I given them everything that they required to move forward and be well functioning adults? I spent so much time during the children’s rocky teens and early adulthood questioning and wondering if I had really missed the mark as a parent. At times I heard them share childhood memories and while most were idyllic, I heard a sprinkle of cringe worthy moments that gave me pause. I became racked with guilt and worried about my children’s development. They are sponges and while nothing need be said, they are observing and learning. They see, hear and absorb their world more acutely than adults. You see, children are smart, much smarter than given credit for. ― Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler’s Wife The mothers have to stay at home and wait for the children to fly in the window.” “Think for a minute, darling: in fairy tales it’s always the children who have the fine adventures. The problem was…all was not well and they knew it. Sadly, being in a volatile relationship that was less than loving, I often over compensated for this lack by creating an “all is well” mentality. My every intention and action was made with their well being in mind. As a young mother, having my daughter at 20 and my son at 24, I fought to provide a steady and stable environment for them. Upon reflection, I see these words demonstrate the ebb and flow of parenting in many ways. Everything does not need to be analyzed, planned and accounted for. To walk in the woods without a path to guide the way, sit on a “lonely shore” and feel the breeze of the morning tide coming in. Life events can feel so contrived at times that one begins to forget what it means to experience things in a natural state. Reading George Byron’s piece, I was immediately struck by the opening line, “There is a pleasure in the pathless woods…” Byron was certainly a poet after my own heart. ― George Gordon Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal I love not Man the less, but Nature more,įrom these our interviews, in which I steal There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
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