Today I thought about my cousin, who is imprisoned for a crime I am convinced he didn’t commit. He was coerced into a plea bargain by his legal team and took the consequences for someone who is still out there. Either way, he has spent several years behind bars because he was told this would be a much easier punishment than the one he would face should he face a jury and not convince them. I hadn’t seen him since 2008 I think. Eight years. This past February come hell or high water, I was going to see him. And I did. Despite the obstacles I faced trying to get there. 

Being with my cousin for the 4 hours we were allotted was amazing. It seems he is in a crappy place, but not completely, only physically. He still had humor about him and hadn’t let the darkness of what he was surrounded with overcome the light inside of him. Sure, did he complain about the food, YES, and did he also complain that some of the people he had to deal with were just flat out messed up, YES. But his ability to laugh and to enjoy what he was told from the “outside” and to look forward to a hope about the next weeks where he would get a tablet to email and appeal his case again were inspiring to say the least. After all, we all have darkness surrounding us at times. Maybe not as steady as he does, but there are dark presences all around for sure, lurking in the corners waiting to strike on those of us most unsuspecting.

The thing I found most interesting was that in a place where darkness is the reason you’re there in the first place, is that even among that thick consuming darkness, there must be light. My cousin after all will tell you he was a hot head and it was easy to instigate a problem with him because it didn’t take much, but where he is today is an indication that this may not have been the best method for him or others. He was able to see the ere of his own ways and make new decisions day by day to do what was necessary in order to get out of the place of darkness with the least scars and bruises. He was learning change in a place that it’s easy to be “just a number”. If he could do this, why can’t the rest of us? 

I think the path of least resistance isn’t the one we learn the most on. It’s the difficult places, the dark alleys of life where we figure out who we truly are and who we need to be to survive. Before you go judging the officers that turn a blind eye when they get a ghetto district, or the guy who steals to feed his children and shows up to church every Sunday to lead the worship team, remember that we are all just trying to survive. Wouldn’t it be something if we could respect and accept that one mans trash is another’s treasure and one man or creatures attempt to survive can simply be the only way they know how? Wouldn’t it be something if we got all of these different perspectives on the table? And helped one another understand that each of our goals, fears and needs are essentially the same, just with a different mask on. Think about it!

To find out more about a place to learn, speak and listen to these stories: visit sidebarstories.org they are doing good work to open up these lines of communication and help narrow the gaps and fill the space between what we see as darkness and light, black and white, wrong and right. 

This is your little girl. The one you planned for. The one you made a decision about having before you laid down in an intimate moment. The one you hoped for, wished for, and prayed for. The one you gave life to and bought presents for, like that toddler shirt that said “future 10”, dad. The one you selflessly breast fed, mom. The one you planned to love together as a family, as parents, as lovers of my life, my own personal sideline cheerleaders. 

Now that I know what it’s like to be a mother… My God do I understand the strength, pain and heartache it can cause. Loving a piece of your own heart that is now out in the world, on its own two feet, with its own thoughts and feelings, separate from your own is the scariest feeling in the world. There is little that can comfort you in the time of fear, that the world is gonna get the best of that part of you. I know what it’s like to want to let that rage out, to want to pound your fists on the pavement and scream of the injustice, but at the same time wanting to protect the rest of what’s left of you. It’s a moment in time that while you must respect that you’re separate from this child of yours, you also must acknowledge the oneness of the experience of being a parent as well. It’s complete chaos. 

The worst part is when there are emotionally immature, toxic people involved. Government, employers, significant others… But what can you do about any of that? Nothing?! The same nothing that you could do with it when the injustice was just against you. Ugh! What an endlessly hopeless feeling that must be. Except now your wiser and more experienced so it’s easy to want to offer the advice you didn’t have when you were fighting the battle yourself. Look at all this information you can give and all the saving you can do with this child of yours by offering them your own experience and outcomes! Except they don’t want it. What the…?!?! 

Do you remember being the age of your child now? Do you remember how enabling never helped you figure out anything on your own? Do you remember how “should” made you feel? Like a failure, like a mess, like someone who will never live up to the standard of anything great because what they did and what they “should do” are miles apart. 

Mom and dad, I love you. I always will. Today’s world is my generations responsibility to figure out. If we do what you did, things will never change. If we live in a world of “shoulds” we will never figure it out on our own. We have an idea. We need to make a plan. And while I know that you have nothing but the best intentions, fear of my wellbeing and fear of a catastrophic outcome, I’ll never grow in the way I should in your eyes, lest you want me to be miserable and only living for you. Since I know that isn’t true, I now know I need space. I need space to spread my limbs, to feel the way of the breeze and to chase the sunshine. It isn’t because I’m not rooted in your love, but because the world is changing and I need to adapt in order to survive. Thank you for all you have done for me. Thank you for planting me on ground I could find solid structure under, thank you for making sure I’ve had water and sunshine to grow. Thank you for also showing me that even though the winter brings loss of leaves and some branches to die off, that new ones will grow in their place or somewhere better. Thank you for everything. I sincerely mean it. I hope you’ll be ok for now just stepping back and watching me grow in the most organic way for myself because that brings me great joy, and great sorrow but also, the greatest lessons. 

Up until now, I have lived under the reign of a king and queen. I have walked a line in order to please and I have reported back to them about anything and everything searching for approval. 

From now on, I will rise to my place on the throne of my own life. I will take up my cross, my crown, and be held accountable for all of the choices that are made. In those, I feel the most able to consider all of the options and while I may make mistakes or sacrifice time and energy where I could’ve learned from previous history, it is also important that I take the history I have learned and regard it as reference and try something new. After all… “Anyone who has never made a mistake, has never tried anything new.” ~Albert Einstein

When I look into the world today, via Nature and even on Facebook, I realize that moms are everywhere. In your aunt that substituted when mom left the world, or town, in your friend that gently patted your head while you cried into her lap, in our pets, in our sisters, in our grandmothers, and sometimes in our daughters…. To all the beautiful women out there, who are or aren’t biological moms, who have, are missing, or are detached from their moms, remember that when you love another human enough to stand by them while they’re facing obstacles, difficulties or challenges, you are standing in as their makeshift mom. While most women, but not all, can give birth to another human being, it’s unconditional love that separates you and makes you a “mom”. Thanks for all the makeshift moms in the past and in the present that have spent all their best moments “moming” me. I love you all!

Yesterday I volunteered at a workshop for the nonprofit I work with called Sidebar Stories. The day was themed “Can the Next Generation Be Better Off?” As a group we discussed what we truly wanted for our children, our society and our world as a whole in the coming years. We embraced one another’s stories and listened with our eyes and ears. We accepted one another’s perspective and saw that once the walls of “differences” are broken down, we all essentially want the same thing. We want our children to do better, have better, and be better than our own generations and the ones before them. 

It’s a real struggle as a step mom and a divorced mom to raise all of these children to my exact standards or specifications. I don’t call them mine because they don’t only belong to me. In fact, they don’t really belong to anyone except themselves. They are individuals, separate from everyone with a few kinks of each of ours they’ve picked up along the way. I’m slowly learning that they either raise themselves and take what stands out most to them, or that they actually raise us, because over time I can see how much they teach us. 

Young children do not know the difference between who has what parts or who has limbs, as toddlers them embrace one another as they’re embraced. I watch this every Sunday I serve in a nursery. They don’t care who you believe in, or what sacraments you’ve made, and certainly don’t judge one another when a boy plays with a doll or a girl farts. They get all that junk from us. I have learned more through the innocent non judgemental children in the nursery than I have in any worship room. They’ve taught me about the difference between selfishness, sharing, and not even noticing a neighbor took the ball you were no longer using. They have taught me about letting go and how after enough time, you will really be ok without mommy, as long as someone is there to love you and hold you when you fall down. They have taught me about acceptance and how we can only resist so much before we are, or the thing we want the most is, the one that ends up broken. They have taught me that love can heal all wounds. They have also taught me that asking questions, even hard ones, like “what happened to your arm”, is acceptable and simply inquisitive. The babies have taught me that words aren’t necessary but looking into one another’s eyes and smiling can be all the communication another person needs to know you care. 

In the world we live in today, it can be scary as a parent. Everything we do and every decision we make has a direct result on our children. If we don’t put them in the sports they like, they could say we didn’t support their dreams. If we put them in one each season, they could say we pushed them too hard. It’s so hard to find the line of where to push and where to take push back. But what seems really simple to me, may be a struggle for another. Even if you support your child in whatever you think they wish to do or be, they will find their own way. You cannot control every interaction they have or every heartache they’ll suffer; and you certainly can’t prevent them from ever having heartache, because sometimes you may be the cause of it and not even know it. What you can do, is try to love them through whatever they have to live through, tell them you’ll be there when you can and then be there… When you can. Let them know when you’re not, they will figure it out, or can ask for help from others if they’re really feeling defeated. You can accept whatever mistakes they’ve made and love them anyway. You can encourage them to figure things out on their own, not fix it for them or do it for them, but let them try and then when they ask for help, ask questions… Like “what happened?” or “what do you need?” Be inquisitive, don’t suggest. Trade curiosity for advice. They’ve got all the answers they need inside of them, all they need now is the space to be vulnerable and honest and authentic where they can hear their inner voice and grow their own confidence. Give them that space. Don’t hover, but don’t shy away either. Just be there, in that space with them, because that is the space they will live in forever and they need to figure out that it’s safe, it’s secure and that they’re in it, not because of you or despite you, but with you, because you chose to be there and watch them grow in it. 

Up until now: I worried too much, I tried to fix it all and make it all better, I’ve hovered too much and then walked away when it didn’t go my way. 

From now on: I’d like to share space with people, this space, right here, where I can be me, and you can be you. Where we can chose to be here in it together, or we can chose not to be, but it’s our individual choice, not a demand on the whole. There is healing in that space. I’ve seen it, felt it, and heard it. That’s the space I want to live in. 

On that note: here is a short poem/writing/whatever you want to call it about our children and my dream for them:

I Have a Dream Too
My dream for our children is that they won’t belong to either of us, or any of us, but to themselves and to one another.

My dream is that they find a connection to us in unique and compassionate ways.

My dream is that they find balance between structure and spontaneity,

That they find space to breath in the moments between,

That they know the difference between work and play and they find a way to enjoy both regularly.

My dream for our children is that they find understanding in their hearts for our mistakes, for our desires and needs, and sense joy in giving us some of what we want while following their own paths more than ours.

My dream is that they don’t walk upon one another, compare themselves to each other, but that they find their own self image and respect that each persons is different.

My dream is that they learn to trust the God in their own gut without needing to follow any strict regimen or formula, religion or rule book to find it. 

My dream is that they can listen to their own instinct over the voices we have ingrained and become in their heads. 

My dream is that they find balance between caution to keep them safe and courage to keep them taking risks.

My dream is that they will be brave in both of those moments, and never allow embarrassment, guilt or shame to drive them anywhere but toward humility.

My dream is that they search for their own dreams, and when they find them, follow them without reservations. 

My dream is that they will see how blaming others DOESN’T FIX THE PROBLEM, only postpones the resolution. 

My dream is that they will take their own inventory, take responsibility for their actions, understand consequences are necessary but that justice can no longer be weighed on an uneven scale. 

My dream is that they don’t see you’re always right or always wrong but that they see each one of us as loving beings, parents, confidants and leaders and know that we’ve been built up on what we were taught, but that it isn’t necessarily theirs to follow. 

My dream is that they will find there are not just one or two solutions to a problem, but multiple and that each one has its benefits and risks and that they may need to take risks but should never do it at the cost of the whole. 

My dream is that they love us and accept us, flaws and all, because we have accepted them. 

My dream is that we can dream together as their creators and while our dreams may differ from one another, that we can approach these dreams as hopes of our own and then allow those dreams to grow authentically and organically within them. My dream is that we don’t smash their dreams by being too disappointed when they or we, ourselves, aren’t meeting the goals of one another. 

My dream is that we can move forward in raising them as newer human beings but not as children to be seen and not heard.

My dream is that rather than assuming what they think or want, or by not allowing them the space to be honest, we can hear what they truly dream for and allow them to follow it regardless of how it affects us. 

My dream is that we can accept that what they tell us individually may differ, but that we will accept what they say to us, not what we tell each other as their advocate or representative.

My dream is that in telling them our stories they learn to tell their own story authentically. 

I hope that through our bickering, our dismissal of one another and the lies, they learn to listen to both sides of an equation and to reach a compromise. 

I hope they find that government and our legal system is corrupt in our society and find a way to help one another and build on humanity. 

I know we haven’t taught them well through modeling appropriate action, but I trust the same as we rebelled, that they will stop this chain reaction.