This day will always be important to me. My son was born on this date and it has been a constant source of enjoyment watching him grow up. Now that he has reached the age of majority, we see each other far less than when he was a child, but fortunately, he makes the time we do get to see one another worth the waits in between. I know that the rest of the world may not care or understand, but in his case, those who get to know him are rewarded for their efforts by finding out that he has a quick wit that is enhanced by excellent timing. Jade is not a pun factory, nor will he pounce on every opportunity for making a joke, but when he does, it is made that much funnier because he's usually the quiet guy.
I try not to be the gushy parent, detailing the life events of my children. This post, however, has some elements that could be at home in the average blog written by a mother or stay at home dad. On the one hand, I want to base this entry on what my son has meant to me, but it is not to brag or share my feelings of pride and respect, rather, I mention my son because our children are a physical representation of hope. The only actions that ever really pay off are those that involve significant risk. Planting a seed for instance, or a tree. Chances are good that some of our plantings will grow, but a friend sent pictures of hail damage that nearly decimated her garden yesterday. Some years I have had entire crops wiped out before I got a single morsel and likewise, after spending a weekend (my first ever) planting hundreds of trees, we did get one of the worst droughts their firs summer and they shriveled and turned to matchwood under the baking sun.
When we invest, there is always an element of risk. Hope alone cannot change the world, but it allows a chance to try. I want to sprinkle an appropriate story or two from my first twenty or so years with Jade, so that you might have a bit of the insight and joy that I have felt along his path to adulthood, but this post is not just about him. I find what he has taught me to be far beyond his years. In his youth, there was a time that he wanted to have candles in his room. First off, let me say that his "room" stretches the meaning of that word significantly. He had a place just wide enough for his single mattress and tucked way back in the corner, there was a desk that hugged the chimney. The whole space was wedged in between the sloping ceiling of our story-and-a-half in the space between a central stairway and the knee wall. Instead of a wall, separating him from the living space, he had a very long, floor to ceiling curtain. Anyway, because of his youth and with all the fabric and limited space, there are few parents that would allow a candle to be part of the decor.
When I told him, I fully expected some protestation, but instead he went directly to his desk, which doubled as workstation and began feverishly constructing something. I did not know what, but it kept him quiet for hours. By the time he emerged, all he wanted was some tape and colored markers. I had no idea that he was constructing a battery operated fire. it was complete with a battery, a computer fan, colored lights and tissue paper which danced like the real thing. In fact, it was better than a candle in several ways and served for many years without being dangerous or worrisome to his parental unit. This illustrates the need for each of us to determine what the differences are between what we want and what we really need. In Jade's case, having a warm dancing flame in his room was important enough that he was not going to live without it. We could all take a lesson from his choices and decisions.
As you know, I have remained silent for ten days because of the slaughter of innocents in both Ukraine and Palestine. I had to make a choice between what I really wanted and what I needed. On the one hand, I wanted to scream out in protest, to shout down all those who believe that the death of others will make their lives better. I wanted to lash out at the small-minded, the short sighted and the bigots who believe that some innocent children are better than others and that the deaths of people they have labeled as sub-human are warranted to get their way. I mention this last bit because oftentimes children who grow up having been allowed to be tyrants often grow up to become tyrants as well. What I really needed was peace and my life has improved so much during these ten days of not reacting that I want to share that with my readers. Sometimes what we gain from pondering, musing over or sifting through things is far more valuable than just being reactive. Perhaps as we slide through the end of summer into fall, we can all take some time to understand and suss out the differences between wants and needs. The payoff for investing in our own peace of mind cannot be put into words exactly, but the feelings of peace and security that come from knowing that our feet are firmly planted in the earth and that our direction upon the surface of that Earth is appropriate can have benefits not only for us, but for those around us as well.
I remember a canoe trip that Jade and I took years back that wandered down the Wisconsin River, from the bottom of the dam that creates Castle Rock Lake, down through the Wisconsin Dells, past Portage and on down to the Mississippi River and Wyalusing State Park. For two weeks we were nearly always within a few feet of one another and we shared thoughts and ideas that many fathers never share with their children. I remember day three or four, when everything we had was contaminated with sand, how we looked at one another as the soft food we ate crunched under our teeth and the grace and insight which Jade used to deal with it. He seemed to be almost as amused as I was that we still had ten days of crunching sand in our food before we would leave the river's serpentine embrace. I remember when we got to the "popular" part of the river on a Friday night and how he let me in on his decision making skills about what island to camp on.
You see, the weekend warriors were out in force and it seemed that every island was already being camped upon. He was listing pros and cons about each island as it came into view. Music too loud. Way too much firewood. Motorboat. No children. Dogs. It seemed that he was running scenarios in his head that I was just too tired to deem plausible. I must admit that at eleven, far too few children would be able to spin out the eventualities that could befall us based on a single decision. Do we make landfall here, or push on into the unknown and ever deeper darkness? As it turned out, he found us an island that had both adults and children and as soon as we landed upon their shore I knew that Jade had made the best decision possible. The people were all great and the children were very well-behaved. How he could pick up on their vibe from hundreds of yards away, I will never know, but I can tell you that from what I saw going on on other islands and sand bars that night, I'm glad we were not on those!
I have always enjoyed camping with my children. My only regret is that we did it so rarely. Paring down our lives to what fits in a backpack or a canoe teaches us more about who we are than about what we must do. Of course, there are always things that must be done, but in the woods, or on the water, it is hard to forget that the most important thing we can do is accept our serenity and grace at all costs, lest we lose track of the sublime beauty that surrounds us. Knowing that there are millions who want an experience like the one you are having, but who cannot fight their way free of the shackles of wage slavery to do it seems sad on one level, but on another it enlivens every moment with feelings of appreciation and joy. This day will be spent on water with my daughter and son in law, with a bit of luck and a fair amount of serious intention a great time will be had by all. Whatever we can do to get our peace of mind back needs to be done, not just for us, but for the future of our planet as well as her people. Waste not, want not and do not be quick to anger, for in anger there is only darkness, dissolution, fear and hate. Take time to look around, especially at nature and appreciate that in nature there are no wars, no waste and no wishes, only making a living and casting off resources for our neighbors. If we want to grab the ring of sustainability, we need to understand what is wonderful, miraculous and poignant in nature so that we might model our own lives after it.
I try not to be the gushy parent, detailing the life events of my children. This post, however, has some elements that could be at home in the average blog written by a mother or stay at home dad. On the one hand, I want to base this entry on what my son has meant to me, but it is not to brag or share my feelings of pride and respect, rather, I mention my son because our children are a physical representation of hope. The only actions that ever really pay off are those that involve significant risk. Planting a seed for instance, or a tree. Chances are good that some of our plantings will grow, but a friend sent pictures of hail damage that nearly decimated her garden yesterday. Some years I have had entire crops wiped out before I got a single morsel and likewise, after spending a weekend (my first ever) planting hundreds of trees, we did get one of the worst droughts their firs summer and they shriveled and turned to matchwood under the baking sun.
When we invest, there is always an element of risk. Hope alone cannot change the world, but it allows a chance to try. I want to sprinkle an appropriate story or two from my first twenty or so years with Jade, so that you might have a bit of the insight and joy that I have felt along his path to adulthood, but this post is not just about him. I find what he has taught me to be far beyond his years. In his youth, there was a time that he wanted to have candles in his room. First off, let me say that his "room" stretches the meaning of that word significantly. He had a place just wide enough for his single mattress and tucked way back in the corner, there was a desk that hugged the chimney. The whole space was wedged in between the sloping ceiling of our story-and-a-half in the space between a central stairway and the knee wall. Instead of a wall, separating him from the living space, he had a very long, floor to ceiling curtain. Anyway, because of his youth and with all the fabric and limited space, there are few parents that would allow a candle to be part of the decor.
When I told him, I fully expected some protestation, but instead he went directly to his desk, which doubled as workstation and began feverishly constructing something. I did not know what, but it kept him quiet for hours. By the time he emerged, all he wanted was some tape and colored markers. I had no idea that he was constructing a battery operated fire. it was complete with a battery, a computer fan, colored lights and tissue paper which danced like the real thing. In fact, it was better than a candle in several ways and served for many years without being dangerous or worrisome to his parental unit. This illustrates the need for each of us to determine what the differences are between what we want and what we really need. In Jade's case, having a warm dancing flame in his room was important enough that he was not going to live without it. We could all take a lesson from his choices and decisions.
As you know, I have remained silent for ten days because of the slaughter of innocents in both Ukraine and Palestine. I had to make a choice between what I really wanted and what I needed. On the one hand, I wanted to scream out in protest, to shout down all those who believe that the death of others will make their lives better. I wanted to lash out at the small-minded, the short sighted and the bigots who believe that some innocent children are better than others and that the deaths of people they have labeled as sub-human are warranted to get their way. I mention this last bit because oftentimes children who grow up having been allowed to be tyrants often grow up to become tyrants as well. What I really needed was peace and my life has improved so much during these ten days of not reacting that I want to share that with my readers. Sometimes what we gain from pondering, musing over or sifting through things is far more valuable than just being reactive. Perhaps as we slide through the end of summer into fall, we can all take some time to understand and suss out the differences between wants and needs. The payoff for investing in our own peace of mind cannot be put into words exactly, but the feelings of peace and security that come from knowing that our feet are firmly planted in the earth and that our direction upon the surface of that Earth is appropriate can have benefits not only for us, but for those around us as well.
I remember a canoe trip that Jade and I took years back that wandered down the Wisconsin River, from the bottom of the dam that creates Castle Rock Lake, down through the Wisconsin Dells, past Portage and on down to the Mississippi River and Wyalusing State Park. For two weeks we were nearly always within a few feet of one another and we shared thoughts and ideas that many fathers never share with their children. I remember day three or four, when everything we had was contaminated with sand, how we looked at one another as the soft food we ate crunched under our teeth and the grace and insight which Jade used to deal with it. He seemed to be almost as amused as I was that we still had ten days of crunching sand in our food before we would leave the river's serpentine embrace. I remember when we got to the "popular" part of the river on a Friday night and how he let me in on his decision making skills about what island to camp on.
You see, the weekend warriors were out in force and it seemed that every island was already being camped upon. He was listing pros and cons about each island as it came into view. Music too loud. Way too much firewood. Motorboat. No children. Dogs. It seemed that he was running scenarios in his head that I was just too tired to deem plausible. I must admit that at eleven, far too few children would be able to spin out the eventualities that could befall us based on a single decision. Do we make landfall here, or push on into the unknown and ever deeper darkness? As it turned out, he found us an island that had both adults and children and as soon as we landed upon their shore I knew that Jade had made the best decision possible. The people were all great and the children were very well-behaved. How he could pick up on their vibe from hundreds of yards away, I will never know, but I can tell you that from what I saw going on on other islands and sand bars that night, I'm glad we were not on those!
I have always enjoyed camping with my children. My only regret is that we did it so rarely. Paring down our lives to what fits in a backpack or a canoe teaches us more about who we are than about what we must do. Of course, there are always things that must be done, but in the woods, or on the water, it is hard to forget that the most important thing we can do is accept our serenity and grace at all costs, lest we lose track of the sublime beauty that surrounds us. Knowing that there are millions who want an experience like the one you are having, but who cannot fight their way free of the shackles of wage slavery to do it seems sad on one level, but on another it enlivens every moment with feelings of appreciation and joy. This day will be spent on water with my daughter and son in law, with a bit of luck and a fair amount of serious intention a great time will be had by all. Whatever we can do to get our peace of mind back needs to be done, not just for us, but for the future of our planet as well as her people. Waste not, want not and do not be quick to anger, for in anger there is only darkness, dissolution, fear and hate. Take time to look around, especially at nature and appreciate that in nature there are no wars, no waste and no wishes, only making a living and casting off resources for our neighbors. If we want to grab the ring of sustainability, we need to understand what is wonderful, miraculous and poignant in nature so that we might model our own lives after it.
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