Remembering September 11th

Last night, my daughter had to interview me for her history class about where I was on September 11th. She asked questions about what happened, and how the events of 9/11 impacted my life, the U.S., and the world. Going through everything, it was strange to see how vividly I could remember and feel the emotions. 

Stranger still was that this was the first time I’d told many of the details to my daughter. She was an infant on 9/11, and for all these years, I have been afraid that if I told her too much, if I let her know what it felt like to witness what was happening on that day - I was afraid it would be too much for her to take. Although she’s older and so mature, it was still hard to talk about such immense violence, but I did let her know that it was not all sadness and pain. 

I told her about heros, like Todd Beamer on the flight that went down in Pennsylvania, and how there were countless others that showed great courage and compassion in responding to what was happening. 

And when she asked the thing I remembered most, what immediately came to mind was the great light that came out of people that day and in the days that followed. I remember a video journalism piece I saw on tv that week; the journalist rode around New York City on his bike and showed what people were doing to help others – get to safety, get medical attention, get in touch with loved ones - people just giving whatever was needed. 

There was so much love shining so brightly against that backdrop of horrific darkness. That moved me so deeply, and I suppose I remember it most because it was seeing that love that helped me move forward.   

Such a mix of sadness, compassion, love, and so many other emotions I can’t even name. . . all in remembering 9/11.

Is it kind?

This quote first crossed my path a few years back:

Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates.
At the first gate, ask yourself "Is is true?"
At the second gate ask, "Is it necessary?"
At the third gate ask, "Is it kind?"
-Sufi Saying 

Immediately, I was very attracted to the quote, but as I tried to apply it, I had some trouble.  A dilemma arose when something felt true and necessary, but I knew, or at least thought I knew, that it would not be welcomed by the person to whom I needed to say it.  I struggled with the question:

"If the receiver doesn't want to hear it, can it still be kind?"

The way the scenario most often played out was that I hesitated to speak.  And in that hesitation, I did what so many of us do, I dished about it with friends.  What started as an innocent enough intention to just get a little feedback from my closest confidantes, ended up in a heavy load of judgement.  As I tossed "the problem" of what to do around in my own mind and shared it with others, I became weighed down by anxiety and the added thoughts helpfully contributed by my friends.  Pretty quickly, all this turned into a bunch of unkind feelings, making it impossible to pass through that third Sufi gate.

But today, life has given me a chance to see that there is another way.  When there is something true and necessary, right then and there is the choice: a choice to engage the heart in kindness.

Instead of seeking advice or talking about the situation as a problem, there is a simple question that I can ask myself:

"How can I present this necessary and true statement with kindness?"

As I write all this out, it feels so ridiculously simple.  So simple, and yet this way of compassion has eluded my slick mind for so many years.  It has felt easier to avoid saying anything at all than confront the possibility that something I needed to say might not be welcome.  I've confused disappointing someone with being unkind to them.

But today, as with everyday, there is a new chance to discover deeper compassion, to be more true, and to say what needs saying.

Dear Daughter

 

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This song hits a chord for me.  When I hear that line: "how wonderful life is, now you're in the world," it fits perfectly with the simple and deep feeling I have about you.  I am so grateful for what you bring, not only to our family and to my life, but to the world.  You are such a unique, amazing, and interesting person, and watching you grow has been the most miraculous experience of my life.

And lately, I've been noticing how that little girl that needed me for everything has been replaced by an increasingly capable, witty, and independent young woman.  I'm so proud of you and honored to be your mother.

But the whole truth on my end is that all these feelings of pride and awe in watching you grow are accompanied by concern.  As you start making your way into the world on your own, I see that I'm losing control, and honestly, it freaks me out.  With each step of independence you take, I lose another way of protecting you.

And I do want to let go.  I want you to grow and explore life unhindered by an overprotective mother.  I want you to make your own mistakes.  My deepest wish for you has always been that you spread your wings and live a life really true to yourself. 

But I'm not ready to push you out of the nest yet.

The world has changed in so many ways since I was a kid: with the internet, with kids growing up so much faster, and with texting and cellphones.  I can't anticipate the exact choices and challenges that will cross your path in adolescence, but there is one piece of advice I can offer.  If taken to heart, this will be the only advice you'll need: 

Develop your intuition.

Intuition or "the still small voice within" is something we all have, and yet, so many people have not learned to hear or follow it.  The voice isn't loud or demanding, and intuition can be covered over by many other voices: voices of friends, of wants, of insecurities.  

In order to gain access to your intuition, you need to really pay attention to what is happening within yourself.  If you feel a sense of hesitation about a particular person, about going to a certain place, about taking a particular action, pause.  You may be getting the intuitive message that the person, place, or action will lead to something unnecessarily difficult.  You may also just be feeling some butterflies about a new experience.  Only you can learn to tell the difference, to tell when a hesitation is fear that you should move through or a warning you should heed.

One thing I've used in learning to develop and follow my intuition is a journal.  By writing thoughts, memories, and feelings down for no one to read but me, it became easier to sort out all the things happening within myself.  I didn't bother to edit or hold back, so it was easier to see patterns, to recognize the way it felt when intuition tried to pull me out of something unpleasant, to recognize the way it felt when intuition tried to nudge me in a new direction. 

I can only vaguely wave my finger in the direction of explaining intuition because the nature of intuitive impulses is unique in each person.  Experiment and develop a sincere curiosity about what is happening within you.  Take an interest in sensations and gut instincts that arise, and make time to be quiet and to be by yourself.  All the answers you'll ever need are within you, and the best thing you can do is learn how to listen.

That said, there are some situations or times in life that are too overwhelming to simply quiet down and listen within.  Raging hormones and the influx of so many new experiences can make it hard to get quiet enough to hear, and in those times, I hope you'll ask for help.

I wish for it to be me who you confide in and ask for help when things start to feel a little nuts, but if it isn't me, then I hope you'll use your intuition in knowing the people to trust.  Look for people that respect your privacy and know how to keep a secret.  Some people masquerade as such a friend, but will simply start the secret with "don't tell anyone this but . . ."  Look for people that listen more than they tell you what to do.  Lots of well meaning friends will be filled with advice, but the best helpers believe in your ability to solve your own problems and give you the encouragement to discover and act on your own answers.

Adolescence is a time to learn about life, sometimes the hard way.  Don't feel embarrassed for getting overwhelmed or for making bad choices that create a tough situation; I really can't imagine growing up without those sorts of things here and there.  Just know that there are lots of people who want to be there for you; please let them.

And nurture the most important relationship in your life: the one with yourself.  Spend time alone and develop a sense of what feels good and comfortable to you.  If you learn to follow your intuitive sense, life will still have challenges, but it will feel guided and safe.

Dear Daughter, the world will break your heart, and that's exactly how it should be.  My intent in writing this was not to prevent every hurt and heartbreak; those experiences are part of the richness of life.  I have come to treasure my heartbreaks as much as my greatest joys, and I wish you a life filled with both.

Rather, my hope is that you'll be in the driver seat of your own life, that you'll feel empowered by your own intuition, that you'll feel supported by those who love you, and that you'll feel able to dance through the beautiful life before you in the way that can only come from your own heart.

I love you.