The Landscape

Recognizing that certain times are more complicated in life is important.

As we reflect on our lives, imagine we are looking through binoculars at a landscape. We can see for absolutely miles and miles and it is an uninterrupted view. But the terrain varies. We can see meadows and forests, pockets of tranquility and downhill, but those spaces are intermixed with mountains. There can be ice-capped ranges, maybe gorges and crevasses- some so deep they disappear from view.

But most importantly it is not uniform. I try to use that visual when I am thinking of my life, as well as my moods.

It is a simple fact that we have harder and busier times in life.

As parents, having younger children requires different energy, more physical energy and the fatigue is real and nights can be sleepless. Older children require more complexity. Who are they and who are they becoming? Are we doing all the things to give them the tools to survive and function? Are they happy? What is the balance between hovering, fostering independence, and too much room?

How do we help them make the right choices for themselves, while simultaneously attempting to not make them our choices for them? 

I think of these mountain peaks and valleys as transitions. I close my eyes and I remind myself that there are meadows ahead, but for this moment we are busier than we want to be. We have more on our mind than it seems there is room for. The worry is big and real, but it is temporary. It accompanies change and growth.

Like all animals in many ways transitions are a metamorphosis. A birth. When a family makes a transition it taxes the system. Preparing mentally, emotionally and physically is challenging. When young kids start school parents deal with separation. Standing outside classrooms, peeking in the tiny window of the classroom while their equally tiny precious children learn how to survive without them. It is draining and exhausting.

But then suddenly school becomes normal. Drop off becomes simply a task and not an ordeal. The layer of stress we were managing evaporates. Having a son going through the college process, and the process of becoming a grown-up I am reminded of those early times.

The not-knowing.

The preoccupation with their happiness and well-being.

Feeling pressured to help them do all the things, but not wanting every conversation to revolve around tasks and logistics, and pushing.

I find myself yearning for earlier times, or later times when there was and will be less stress. Less complexity.

I force myself to remember that this is not permanent. Just as drop off became routine without me realizing it, this period of time will ease. For him and for me. We will resume our pattern of much more tranquility when we start the descent of this mountain.

And I try to give myself the space to be stressed and overwhelmed by reminding myself that this too shall pass. I will not beat myself up because I cannot do all the things. There is room for error in our lives, and I have to accept that I just do the best I can.

I remind myself that intention behind behavior is what is the most important thing, and I know my intentions are for good. And I remember more importantly- that his intentions are too.

He is just as determined as me to be good, and whole and happy. Even if he does not use that language and would roll his eyes at me, I do feel safe and sure in that knowledge.

And I know he is also waiting for the meadow on the other side.