I appreciate the defining of "integrity," and this really speaks to me: "I had to grieve those stories I’d carried so close to my heart about his future. This required me to recognize they were just stories— mine, not his. But if letting go of those stories was hard, loving him wasn’t."
I think this is probably something all parents have to do to some degree, if our children are going to be able to be their full, true selves with us. How can any of them match the stories we create for them? Our stories are based in our time, in the world as we've known it, which is never the world they grow into. Neither of my children are living the lives I once imagined for them--the ones I felt it was my job to shape them into--and I've found such peace in (finally, it was a process!) letting go of my visions and seeing all there is to value and love in them as they are.
"Would I continue a pattern of exile, or do the necessary work to throw the doors of my heart open wide enough to hold all of who he is?" Oh yes, that's exactly the question. Thanks for this beautiful piece that speaks right to this mama's heart. 💜
I also encourage my children to live their lives with integrity, even if that means I might get hurt or disappointed or feel like I don't belong anywhere. It's not an easy road, but it also allows me to live my own path with integrity. Thanks for exploring this topic. I'm hopping aboard!
Beautifully said. Raising kids these days is so tenderizing - most days I feel a little beat up, but also so soft, and if I let myself, more open too. Thank you for the alok interview - I just that Hannah gadsby hosts a new Netflix special as well (I think it’s called the gender agenda) and alok is the closing act!
"The only way to feel connected, to feel like I’m inside anything, ever, is to stay in constant, open-hearted conversation with the people I love and the world as it transforms endlessly around us." I love this.
Out of choice—choosing to live in different countries and cultures—I have found myself in the position of being an outsider, albeit, at times, a relatively privileged one. Sometimes it's been comfortable, sometimes the opposite. I wish I'd read your words a long time ago!
I am childless by choice so I am answering in two different but conjoined ways by means of poetry and philosophy which I studied under the tutelage of William F. Buckley Jr. from 1966 to 1999 watching “Firing Line.”
•
The query you've posited, "Who are you? Who am I?" is a veritable Gordian knot of existential contemplation, one that has undoubtedly vexed the minds of philosophers, theologians, and poets alike for millennia.
The stories we spin about ourselves and the world around us are, in essence, the very fabric of our identity, the warp and weft of our individual and collective consciousness. These narratives, as varied and multifaceted as the individuals who weave them, intersect and diverge in a complex mosaic of human experience.
The crux of the matter lies in how we navigate these intersections and divergences. Do we, as a society, possess the requisite empathy and intellectual flexibility to create a space for the Other, to acknowledge and embrace the myriad perspectives that comprise the human condition?
In an age of rapid change and uncertainty, where the very foundations of our social and moral order seem to shift beneath our feet like so many tectonic plates, finding common ground and forging authentic connections becomes an imperative of the highest order. It requires a willingness to step beyond the parochial confines of our own experiences and preconceptions, to engage in a dialectic of mutual understanding and growth.
Ultimately, the key to navigating this labyrinthine journey of self-discovery and interpersonal connection lies in approaching one another with a spirit of open-minded inquiry, to listen with the intent to understand rather than to rebut, and to recognize that our stories, though unique, are all threads in the grand tapestry of the human experience.
In this way, we may perhaps find the courage and the wisdom to embrace the unknown, to chart a course through the uncharted waters of our shared destiny, and to emerge, not as disparate islands, but as a unified archipelago of the spirit, bound together by the enduring ties of our common humanity.
I appreciate the defining of "integrity," and this really speaks to me: "I had to grieve those stories I’d carried so close to my heart about his future. This required me to recognize they were just stories— mine, not his. But if letting go of those stories was hard, loving him wasn’t."
I think this is probably something all parents have to do to some degree, if our children are going to be able to be their full, true selves with us. How can any of them match the stories we create for them? Our stories are based in our time, in the world as we've known it, which is never the world they grow into. Neither of my children are living the lives I once imagined for them--the ones I felt it was my job to shape them into--and I've found such peace in (finally, it was a process!) letting go of my visions and seeing all there is to value and love in them as they are.
My adult child is gender fluid and I felt the same when they presented as masculine, like it was in conflict with a story I had in my head
"Would I continue a pattern of exile, or do the necessary work to throw the doors of my heart open wide enough to hold all of who he is?" Oh yes, that's exactly the question. Thanks for this beautiful piece that speaks right to this mama's heart. 💜
I also encourage my children to live their lives with integrity, even if that means I might get hurt or disappointed or feel like I don't belong anywhere. It's not an easy road, but it also allows me to live my own path with integrity. Thanks for exploring this topic. I'm hopping aboard!
Beautifully said. Raising kids these days is so tenderizing - most days I feel a little beat up, but also so soft, and if I let myself, more open too. Thank you for the alok interview - I just that Hannah gadsby hosts a new Netflix special as well (I think it’s called the gender agenda) and alok is the closing act!
"The only way to feel connected, to feel like I’m inside anything, ever, is to stay in constant, open-hearted conversation with the people I love and the world as it transforms endlessly around us." I love this.
Out of choice—choosing to live in different countries and cultures—I have found myself in the position of being an outsider, albeit, at times, a relatively privileged one. Sometimes it's been comfortable, sometimes the opposite. I wish I'd read your words a long time ago!
I am childless by choice so I am answering in two different but conjoined ways by means of poetry and philosophy which I studied under the tutelage of William F. Buckley Jr. from 1966 to 1999 watching “Firing Line.”
•
The query you've posited, "Who are you? Who am I?" is a veritable Gordian knot of existential contemplation, one that has undoubtedly vexed the minds of philosophers, theologians, and poets alike for millennia.
The stories we spin about ourselves and the world around us are, in essence, the very fabric of our identity, the warp and weft of our individual and collective consciousness. These narratives, as varied and multifaceted as the individuals who weave them, intersect and diverge in a complex mosaic of human experience.
The crux of the matter lies in how we navigate these intersections and divergences. Do we, as a society, possess the requisite empathy and intellectual flexibility to create a space for the Other, to acknowledge and embrace the myriad perspectives that comprise the human condition?
In an age of rapid change and uncertainty, where the very foundations of our social and moral order seem to shift beneath our feet like so many tectonic plates, finding common ground and forging authentic connections becomes an imperative of the highest order. It requires a willingness to step beyond the parochial confines of our own experiences and preconceptions, to engage in a dialectic of mutual understanding and growth.
Ultimately, the key to navigating this labyrinthine journey of self-discovery and interpersonal connection lies in approaching one another with a spirit of open-minded inquiry, to listen with the intent to understand rather than to rebut, and to recognize that our stories, though unique, are all threads in the grand tapestry of the human experience.
In this way, we may perhaps find the courage and the wisdom to embrace the unknown, to chart a course through the uncharted waters of our shared destiny, and to emerge, not as disparate islands, but as a unified archipelago of the spirit, bound together by the enduring ties of our common humanity.
Who are you? Who am I?
—in shadows we
dwell,
In Stories spun
—a Library's swell.
Mysteries veiled in familiar
Tell,
Intricate Patterns—
where Truths rebel.
Are we but Echoes
in a cavernous Space?
Or Light converging
—at a meeting Place?
Our Narratives diverge,
then entwine
—lace,
In the vast Cosmos
—a shared embrace.
How do we chart the uncharted,
share a Sphere?
Making Space
—for both the Far
and Near.
In every Whisper,
in every Tear,
A common Cause
—in the Heart, we steer.
As the World evolves,
unknown Paths we tread,
With every Story
—unraveled,
unread.
Finding Connection
in what's unsaid,
In the silent Growth
—our Spirits
are led.
Who are you? Who am I?
Questions
profound,
In the seeking,
sometimes
—we are found.
In the Overlap
of Sound
with Sound,
In the Merging,
all Boundaries
confound.
We are but Travelers
in a transient
Phase,
Each a Beacon
through the Foggy
haze.
Making room,
as the Universe
sways,
Together
—we navigate
the Maze.