Monday, March 06, 2006

My Son

I was cleaning up some old files on my computer, and I came across an essay written by my child, dated on the day of his 18th birthday. It was an identity assignment for his psychology class, one month before he graduated high school. I cried when I read it. I was awed, that this young man is a part of my life. He would probably be very angry if he knew I posted this here. But since my blogs are a secret from my family, he will never know.
There is a wisdom in his words, a naivety, but a wisdom also. Sometimes as his mother, I forget that. I forget that he is no longer that rambunctious adorable little boy who used to dress up in his batman costume every afternoon to watch the cartoon of the same name on television. I forget that he is young man, a wonderful young man, trying to find his way in the world. It is a reminder to us all I think, of our youthful thoughts, dreams, wishes, as I read this, I tried to remember what it felt to be 18. What I remember, is that we do know ourselves at such a tender age, and somewhere in our mid-20's we sometimes lose that knowledge, or decide that we were wrong. We start searching again, for many of us it takes another 18 or more years to find ourselves again. Maybe, just maybe, we need to remember being 18.


What are my beliefs and values? Hmm, good question. Religiously speaking, I am not a Christian, Jew, or Muslim. However, I do believe in a supreme being that had some hand in the creation of the universe and in human affairs, who this being is, well, I’m not the one to say. I believe that God (I’m calling the entity this for lack of a better term) is ultimately a benevolent being, and thus humans are also essentially good. I believe in the power of free will, and if there is one thing I’ve learned so far in life is that it is always alright in the end.

I value truth above all, and human compassion comes in close second. Honesty and trust are important to me, especially in myself. I believe there is too much sadness and heartache in our existence, and because of this no one should purposefully increase it because of this. It hurts me to see what people do everyday. But, every time it seems like there is no hope for humanity, something small brightens my day. And no one can tell me they’ve led the perfect life, for it does not exist. I do believe that however bad things get/seem that things have a way of working out. This is what sees me through every day life.

My strengths are as follows: intelligent, occasionally witty, stubborn, humble, thoughtful, creative (I love art and music, all kinds), and that about wraps that up.

Now for the fun ones, my weaknesses: I have no clue how to talk to people, I have to push it most of the time; I am stubborn; and I am one of the world’s latest and greatest procrastinators to ever be late; and occasionally I’m too arrogant for my own good. I am sure I have many other faults, but by far the worst is my inability to talk, its not on purpose, I’ve had the problem my whole life. It just seems that holding on to a conversation is impossible even if I have something to say. The only people I can talk to any degree with are those I am close with, and that’s a challenge for most people. I’ve become better as time goes on. I hope it continues to improve. I see my stubbornness as a dualistic quality, perhaps better phrased as hardheaded perseverance. It has also seen me through some tough times, and it had better do so in the future.

Dos personas que me influe? Well, there are obviously my parents, but I’ll count them as a single person for this because their influence was very much cooperative. My values are a conglomeration of both theirs; they both believe that people are at heart good, and everything else is a result of choices. They both had terrible childhoods, and decided that my sister and I should not have to go through the pain that they had. And let me say this: they have done a good job so far. Now, for the second person who has influenced my life, that is my great grandmother. When I was young my great grandfather died and my parents came to live on our farm and look after my great grandmother, she lives in the house across our driveway. I used to go over there everyday and she would have me draw or walk around the yard and help her garden, etc; and I think that she is the person who taught me to appreciate beauty and art. I should thank her for that.

Where am I going? I don’t know…

I know who I am. It is everything else that gives me trouble. I am searching for something, something that will let me know what it is that I want to do, the terrible thing is that I don’t have a clue what that is. So I keep looking.

1 comment:

Phil said...

Your son sounds like a very thoughtful young man. You obviously did a great job as his mother.