I was twenty-five when I had my first child. He went everywhere with his two young parents – weddings galore, hiking adventures when he was just a couple months old in a colorful baby carrier, and a trip to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico where his favorite part was the bumpy ride on the public bus. Yesterday, when we were reminiscing with him about these times, before his three younger siblings were born, it occurred to me how somewhat reckless and fearless (and maybe even clueless) we were, and yet thankfully, it all turned out just great. Our eldest son is as independent and adventurous and “alive” as they come, and we still have a blast adventuring with him. Sometimes I wish that fearlessness and that bravado of my youth would come back to me. I long for that inner assurance to trust life, and to go at it with pure gusto. I desire to easily let go of so much caution, and to allow that caution to be thrown to the wind. Interestingly, I do feel my courage circling back again, now that I am into the first few months of my empty nest. However, it’s not blind anymore. This courage is not a cocky courage. This courage is full of knowledge, experience, and wisdom about the frailty and the preciousness of life, and all things in this life. And thus, it is a clearer courage. My middle-aged courage is clear and conscience about risks, and also clear and conscience about what you miss out on, when you don’t take risks.
I am headed out on an adventure with my curly, ginger haired 26 year-old baby boy today. He towers over me. My son teaches me a lot about the things that are popular with his young generation. Yesterday, he ordered a rare Korean thistle for dinner. (and I tried it and it tastes like chicken – kidding, it tasted like spinach) When we go on our adventures for today, we will both be brave and excited. He will have that fresh, free, unscarred curious courage of youth, and my braveness will come from my wisest most weathered place in my heart, which fully understands the risks of almost everything, and knows that it is important to take some of these risks in order to experience the uncontrollable exuberance of a fully lived life. The circles of life constantly circle back, in slightly different form, but always with the same simple lessons: to live fully, to love unabashedly, and to trust the experiences you have in life, and all that these experiences have to offer you.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.