Because: A love letter to my children

When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.  ~Sophia Loren

Because: A Love Letter to My Children

In the past year, my children, now in their late teens, began very seriously understanding their future potential. As their mother, I had always seen the gifts that lay deep inside them as individuals. I also saw the incredible strength they have together, as siblings so close in age. The joke in our household as always been: they are twins, just born two years apart. They each possess a powerful work ethic, an amazing sense of purpose  and a fully defined view of self. They also are endowed gifts that are the opposite of one another.  I respect their individuality. I love them fiercely. I am a Mama Wolf, and they are my cubs. I would do anything to protect them, to encourage them and to help them achieve their dreams. 

And yet, both children, at different times, have expressed a regret that I didn't "push" them more. As my son and daughter ventured out into the world without me, they saw the credentials that other kids have to be at the top of their 'pools'. My daughter wishes that I had not encouraged her to sail, swim, and work each summer. She has expressed a regret that she didn't, like so many kids, go to SAT camp the whole time. She now feels that she'd have gladly given up our Spring vacations to take AP exam cram session courses.

My son, however, feels he did just fine in school and is content with that piece of his life. He wishes, however, that I hadn't encouraged him to golf in the summers, and play soccer and baseball each Fall and Spring. He wishes that I'd enrolled him in intensive skating clinics and that he'd been tutored so that he could have spent as many waking moments as possible on the ice. He wishes that he hadn't wasted so much time with other activities...wondering where he'd be now in his hockey career if he'd had no other distractions.

My daughter is a wonderful student. My son is a fantastic hockey player. Perhaps they aren't exactly where they had envisioned themselves at this point. My daughter isn't yet the youngest woman to ever receive the Nobel Prize for Biology. My son hasn't yet been drafted to play Center for the Boston Bruins. They are working towards their goals, and I honor their ambitions. 

Therefore: this note is to them, my Sun and Moon.

Because I love you, I not only let you have mud fights, I brought out the hose. I let you get as dirty as you possibly could and never once worried about bringing dirt into the house.

Because I love you, I let you stage dramatic battles between G.I. Joe and Barbie, even if it meant finding tiny pieces of plastic ammunition for months afterwards.

Because I love you, I let you bring a bunny into the house without my consent...and promptly fell in love with her because you did.

Because I love you, my heart broke the first time yours did. I cried with you, both on the inside and on the out. I kept a prayer in my heart that you would continue to fall in love, and love would find you right back.

Because I love you, I cheered loudly at sporting events, even when I had no clue what was going on, or who was winning.

Because I love you, I let you wear your pajamas inside out the night before snow was predicted and then danced along with you when our district was announced for a snow day.

Because I love you, I snuggled with you and watched The Lion King (over and over) with you like on rainy days.

Because I love you, I let you just be kids...kids who built forts, who made sand castles, had sleepovers, roasted marshmallows. I wanted you to be kids who'd learn to water ski in summer and snow ski in winter. I let you camp in the back yard, build a tree house with your Daddy and made you picnic lunches to eat 'in the great outdoors'. 

Because I love you, I've encouraged you. I've subtly pushed you out of your comfort zones. You may not have noticed, but I love you enough to just helpfully spread your wings ever so slightly. And when it was time for you to fly? You just didn't realize your wings hadn't always been opened a bit...making the transition to fly that much smoother. 

Because I love you, I am not just encouraging you to continue on your journey. I'm encouraging you to soar.

Because I love you, I am confident that you gained strength from just being normal, happy, laughing, playing kids. And, now I'm confident that  you will be amazing adults. 

In fact, you are already are. And I love you.

Living life to the fullest...without the hoopla.

Whatever you are, be a good one. ~Abraham Lincoln


There has been a great deal of media attention, in recent years, about "living up to one's potential". Self-help books abound that explore the practical side of personal development, by investigating topics such as time management, home organization and home decorating to 'inspire' you through Feng Shui. Other books and movies, such as "What the Bleep?" and "The Secret", explore the spiritual, esoteric side of maximizing your life's possibilities through prayer, requesting from the universe and meditation. Women's magazines encourage us to unlock our 'inner power'. People are attending motivational speaker conferences in record numbers. They are meeting with Life Coaches and counselors to help better themselves. Western culture, in particular, has a passion for wanting its citizens to *be* passionate. Goal oriented means goal oriented at all costs to many. And yet, are we better directed, and more evolved, than we were twenty, fifty or even one hundred years ago?


While I believe that there are some incredible tools to help us improve our outlook, our skill set and our ease of life, I am afraid that just as many tools exist that make us feel worse about ourselves. I am often in the camp that finds far too many of these programs to be overwhelming. As I listen to the many ways in which my life could be vastly more meaningful, I am left with a feeling of dissatisfaction with the way my life is at this very moment. I am left wondering if I'm missing a critically urgent element in my development. Because I haven't joined a pyramid plan to create my own wealth, invested in international corporations, left my family to go on a pilgrimage to Israel or India or gone to France to study cooking, I feel as if I've missed the boat to emotional, spiritual and financial success. As much as I did enjoy reading Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love", I kept comparing myself to the author, and for lack of a better term, found myself sorely 'wanting'. Elizabeth Gilbert accomplished her own 'bucket list'. The author left her home for a year, and divided her time between Italy (learning Italian), India (immersing herself in yoga) and Indonesia (to find inner peace). I was enriched by this thoroughly entertaining read, but ending up feeling quite depressed by the end. I realized that I divide my own time between the supermarket (to shop for fast and easy meals), the studio (to work) and the house (to clean and supervise the mayhem). Was I leading a life of meaningless busywork, and therefore, wasting my time on Earth?


I realize that I'm not alone in these feelings. Most of us have them from time to time. Many of us, in fact, still have no idea what we want to "be when we grow up", even if we're actively working and raising families. In our 6th grade essays we wrote that we'd like to cure cancer, become an astronaut or be President of the United States. Yet, those are not attainable goals for the vast majority of the population. While books, coaches and motivational speakers can open our eyes to the potential that lays within us, I believe with all my heart, that it's okay to just be yourself. We all have positive traits and negative ones. We all have skills that come easier to us than others. For example, my cousin, Lori, is extraordinary with numbers. She can see them and feel them as a part of her being. I, on the other hand, am hopeless. Should I try to become a financial officer, as she is? Absolutely not. It goes against my nature and my innate abilities. Some self-improvement philosophies would tell me that I'm poorly equipped to handle finances because I don't "really believe" I can; that if I just 'sent it out to the universe' that I would like to become a mathematician, I will be one. Frankly, I believe that it's okay for me to let that one slide. Why? Because I've been blessed in other areas. If we can look inside and honestly assess ourselves, our strengths (no matter how subtle) and our weaknesses (no matter how enormous), we can begin on our own journey of self-improvement.


Our personal journey doesn't have to come from "A Program". It doesn't need to cost thousands of dollars and a course guide to follow. It doesn't require anything from you but some time and space in which to be quiet and thoughtful. Turning off the television, putting aside your 'have to' lists and simply taking a few moments just to ask yourself "Am I happy?", "What can I do to become happy?", "What can I do to enjoy life more?". For some of us, the break from a busy routine, in and of itself, is enough. For others, we may be inspired to make a career change. Even more us may realize that our work doesn't define who we are; that we can explore our own sense of happiness outside of work. In my own case, this means volunteering at the local library. Although I'm not a librarian by career, I am passionate about books. I have learned valuable skills from helping the librarians in all areas of the facility. I enjoy sharing my love of reading with library patrons. I have found something to help boost my self-esteem, as well as my sense of community, by exploring this area of my life.


Not long ago, I was reading a biography of Abraham Lincoln, one of my personal heroes. Obviously, he was an exceptional man and one of our most dedicated presidents during an unthinkable time in history. But, one area I admired most about Mr. Lincoln was his ability to see himself for what he was...to know his gifts, and to know his shortcomings, but not to allow either of these to keep him from fulfilling his destiny. The fact is, the man lived a tough life. He was looked down upon, when first elected to Congress, for being too "country" and for his lack of refined ways. He was married to a highly dysfunctional woman. He lost his beloved son. He was President during the worst war in our nation's history. He was attacked by critics from all sides. And yet, he called himself "content" most of the time because he knew who he was. He lived an authentic life.

As you go on your own journey of self-discovery, be kind to yourself. "Don't judge yourself by other people's yardsticks" (A. Lincoln) and remember that just being you is the greatest gift possible.