as lauryn gets older and i become more ... (what's the word? i know!)... and i get older, i start to see the parallels between us and i can't help but wonder if in some cosmic blessing-as-joke kind of way, i am not getting the chance to raise myself, as it were.
i may or may not have mentioned before that she abhors, detests, cannot stand being told what to do. it's like splashing cold water on a hot griddle. so inasmuch as i can afford her that luxury, i attempt more, well, gentle ways of inviting her to do things. this way we all have a much better experience.
it's taken me kind of longish to realize that - (sheepish demeanor here) - i feel the same way. (i have a particular disdain for arbitrary - read: stupid and pointless - rules.)
the other thing is that she also resists any form of direct instruction/teaching. any scenario that involves me using too many words to impart knowledge invariably ends with me noticing her glazed, distant eyes, trailing off and then abruptly (but not at all bitterly) changing the subject or plain old shutting up. she'd much rather find things out for herself. instead of me telling her about white blood cells, it was far better to watch the video animation (after video animation, after fun, interesting video animation) of how they work. instead of me telling her how to sound words out, it was and has been far better to give her the tools and let her decipher the code of written word for herself.
it's taken me kind of longish to realize that - (you, guessed it: sheepish demeanor here) - say it with me: i feel the same way too.
now isn't that better?
why yes. yes it is.
which causes me to wonder if i was as dreamy and loam fairy-like as she is. was i the kid who may have had feet on the ground but rarely had my head engaged in any thoughts about nitty gritty stuff like "reality"? rather, Other People's dull, boring, completely irrelevant to my experience Realities.
lauryn and i appear not only to be cut from the same cloth - but cut from the very same Bolt. mine has been patterned and cut and that's for the best.
she gets a chance to find her own pattern, or not (!!). she gets to take her fabric and run with it. she has a rare and wonderful gem of an opportunity to do it frank sinatra style:
her way baby.
i watch her learn and i learn more every single day about the way both of us - alike but individuals - learn best. in revealing her self to me, she is gifting me in profound ways with glimpses into parts of my own, yet-unknown self.
i am conscious to watch for the potentially stifling pit fall of thinking she is me. of thinking i can somehow re-live my own history through her. this is Definitely Not About Me. sure, i get some speaking parts, but i'm not the lead in her story - She is. and, lucky for me, i have been given the role of producer.
this. this is a magnificent place to be. a wondrous (and i believe on going) experience of discovery of so very much that there is to learn out there.
and, equally (possibly more) important, in Here.