Drawing by Janine Carnihan*
Some goals: To connect more deeply with others. To communicate authentic messages. To reveal enough of yourself to be truly seen. To be open enough yourself to let others feel truly seen and heard by you. To create a circle around you of genuine, caring humans, and to be a part of that circle for others…
One of my favorite things to do is to spend time with a small child while they explore. It has been a while, since my boys are 15 and 22. I had the pleasure of spending a day last summer with my great-nephew, a non-stop bundle of joy, energy and independence. He was then not quite two years old, and his verbal repertoire included about 50 words and many high-pitched squeals. He is a good walker, but still subject to toppling over on a small stair, steep hill, or stiff breeze. I have always been fascinated with watching how children learn, when left to their own devices and not steered or coached. I love to walk behind while they toddle about, and enjoy letting them make their own path, offering an occasional finger to hold when needed for a step up, and a pick-up and redirection if they are headed for a thorny bush or the edge of a pond. I enjoy letting them stop to investigate whatever little thing catches their eye, and spend as much time as they want watching bugs, inspecting a stick, and circling the yard for the umpteenth time…
My whole life, I have made New Year’s resolutions. They are like anyone else’s, I’m sure: Lose twenty pounds, exercise every day, cut the sugar, add the fiber, try to be more punctual. And like most people, I do not keep them. Last year, I decided to keep it simple, and so my one resolution was to use my electric toothbrush for the recommended full two minutes, rather than the 27 seconds I had been allotting. By February, my teeth felt like they were covered in raw nerve endings, and my dentist advised me to back off, way off, as I was on my way to receding gums. So much for good intentions…
Exodus 2:22
I made a solo trip to New York last week, to visit my favorite aunt. I have been to New York a few times, and have visited most of the tourist attractions at one time or another. My aunt is 90, and suffering from some (hopefully temporary) health issues, and my mission this trip was to visit her, accompany her on as many medical and other appointments as possible, and to offer assistance in whatever areas I could. I purposely scheduled my trip to include as many full weekdays as possible, so that there would be appointments to accompany her on, but I did have a full weekend there, as well, and my aunt insisted that I take some time to do something fun…
Driving home from work last night, I was thinking about what I was grateful for this Thanksgiving. As the answers came, and there were many, each one was tinged with guilt. I have so much to be grateful for that the abundance is embarrassing, and saying out loud all that I am thankful for makes me uncomfortable.
I have been looking at all of the social media posts from people expressing their thankfulness for their children and loved ones. It’s all very nice, and I also am thankful for those things. Most people are also grateful for their spouses, but one hopes that they are grateful for the right reasons. Most people say they are grateful for their parents. I am grateful for mine, and grateful that they are still alive. But then I start to examine whether my actions throughout the rest of the year support those words, and if I am being truthful, I have to admit that they do not. So I feel guilty. I begin to doubt myself…if family comes first, why am I still at work at 10:00 at night? If I am thankful for my parents, why do I get so impatient with them? Why don’t I help them more? Why am I not a better sister, mother, wife, friend? Suddenly, my recitation of what I am grateful for sounds hollow. If I open that door a crack, I am afraid the flood will drown me…