There is brokenness that leads to re-building, improved character, renewed strength, refreshed creativity.
I believe this capacity lives within us all.
I have seen this with my own eyes; men and women build beautiful lives after devastation, loss, betrayal and untold grief.
There’s brokenness that leads to bitterness, regret, desire for revenge and retribution.
It, too, lives in us all.
Stubbornness, coldness of heart, perhaps based in a desire for justification, provokes a tough journey.
I’ve seen men and women “go stubborn” and “go bitter” and be lead by the nose to destinations unbearable.
Brokeness, some, not all, is inevitable, comes packaged with life, time, age, growth and misplaced or misunderstood levels of trust.
Some comes as a result of pride and selfishness — or the rather simple but trustworthy principle of reaping what we’ve sown.
What will you do with yours?
Your brokenness?
What will I do with mine?
Our response — and it need not be immediate for wisdom is seldom knee-jerk — is a crucial choice.
It is not an easy choice, but choice is where it all begins – a little like Robert Frost’s “two roads diverged in a yellow wood.”
A choice to build and learn, a choice not to defend or attack, a choice to love in the face of rejection, a choice to give people what they ask for, a choice to engage, or not – perhaps the choice less travelled, will make the difference.
All I want for Christmas has nothing to do with two front teeth as one of my aunts usd to sing when we were children.
I prefer a pre-Christmas lunch with friends of all ages seated at a large “let’s-talk-all-afternoon” table.
We’d tell stories. We’d make a concerted effort to listen to each other.
We’d speak of risks that paid off and those that didn’t.
Some of us would cry at least a few times for the losses endured, but even those who cry easily, for some have much to mourn, would also laugh a lot – we humans are like that.
As conversation ebbs and flows I know we’d marvel at our former naivete; the big ideas that turned to nothing, small ones that changed our worlds.
There’ll be talk of lost baggage, delayed flights, expired passports and some will go very quiet and silently recall the pain and the power of deep, trusted friendships lost.
I don’t want a tree or flashing lights tacked around my house but I would like to take friends home a few days before Christmas and have quiet hours together appreciating the simple joys of companionship, undeserved forgiveness, being seen, being heard, laced with supersized helpings of all-round Grace.
Everyday, everytime, under all circumstances, no exceptions, you (and I) get to decide what you (and I) will bring to every, yes, every, interaction.
Yes, this one, right here, right now at Wimpy, the bank, with my sons, with your daughter, at this busy traffic intersection.
We have a question we are answering with our behavior 24/7/365: Will you (and I) be agents of love and forgiveness and long-suffering, or will you (and I) settle for the usual combative or irritable or unloving behaviors that seem to come so naturally and easily to so many?
In the heat of the moment – the bad traffic, the wait at the bank, the poor service in the restaurant when you are hungry, whatever – does not make you (or me) unloving or unkind, it reveals who we are.
Challenging circumstances expose, they do not cause.
They reveal.
Love and loving responses take planning, require decisions long before decisions have to be made or require or evoke a response.
Love and forgiveness can only come from you (and me) if love and forgiveness are living within you (and me) already.
What’s within you (and me), will come pouring out, no matter what the circumstances.
You will know your young matriculating adult sons and daughters have transitioned into adulthood when:
Your efforts as parents are acknowledged, appreciated, articulated and somewhat or approximately understood. They are aware of the commitments you made to facilitate their arrival at this juncture in their lives.
Your shortcomings as parents are not denied but are not used or held against you as weapons or as excuses for thier own shortcomings. Your sons and daughters are living without blame.
“Thank you” and “please” comes easy and both are expressed near – to you, to family, to loved ones – and far – to strangers and servers and to those who can do nothing for your young adults in return.
You are able to recognize there’s an acceptance of “the way things are” and that within the way things are there exist multiple opportunities and challenges. Some challenges are to be addressed and solved, some will not. Your budding adult is identifying what it means to “go with the flow of life” and when flow ought to be resisted.
Your young adults respond to your calls and texts because they come from you. They may “ghost” others but choose to respond, when possible, to you. They recognize that as parents, you occupy a unique place in their lives, deserving of appropriate and efficient responses.
As a caucasian man traveling alone with my African American son (5) and African American infant I realized I was triggering intrigue in some parts of the world, well, most parts.
“Where did you get your boys?” a person may randomly ask.
Yes, I specifically recall it happening on a plane or two and in an airport bus. It even occurred once in the London underground, where in retrospect, the person must have really wanted to know given the “no talk” rule.
I recall being flippant or playful or casual in my reply and I learned quickly a few ways to express “it’s none of your business.”
But, I did not always respond this way.
Sometimes I detected a longing in the questioner, an ache, and, if there was time enough to really answer the question I did.
I found myself answering fully if children asked.
One morning during Nathanael’s kindergarten days one of his classmates approached me.
“Mr. Smith, where is Nathanael’s mommy?” and as gently as I knew how I told Andrew we did not know (which remain the truth) and that I was Nate’s only parent.
Tears steamed down Andrew’s face and he ran off.
All I could imagine was that the boy, in that brief encounter, had imagined his own life without his wonderful mother.
A fellow parent presented me with this painting of Nathanael and me during Nate’s kindergarten years. I did see her taking a photograph of us a few days before she presented me with this treasured gift.
A week later I can think and write — this one time – more objectively about my son, Thulani’s, wedding to Alaina. The lavish event, his in-laws resisted no expense, included 175 guests, was as perfect as I can imagine.
The saxophonist and pianist played a soothing “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You” – Van Morrison’s version was Thulani’s first favorite piece of music, a smidgen ahead of anything Barney –and I was first to walk down the aisle of the historical landmark church to begin and officite my son’s wedding.
On reaching the lectern I turned to face the packed sanctuary.
There were men and women who’d walked with me through every phase of both my sons’ lives and hundreds of members of the bride’s friends, family and extended family.
The groom entered and, after his slow walk down the aisle, he threw his arms around me. Then came his brother, Nathanael, followed by 7 groomsmen. The stunning eight bridesmaids entered one-by-one to the delight of the expressive diverse congregation.
The sanctuary doors closed and we waited.
When the music changed, the congregation stood, and the bride entered arm-in-arm with her dad, and at the end of their walk, the bride’s mother joined her husband for a coordinated kiss and both placed Alaina’s hands into my son’s hands the bride and groom turned to face life-long family and friends, many of whom have loved and supported each from birth.
Learn the ART of living fully in your own head, and only, in your own head. Think for yourself. Try not to interfere when others think for themselves even when they express thoughts you’d never think. It’s allowed. MINDing yourown business, avoiding crossovers, is a crucial and necessary art in the empowering business. Like everything, it begins at home. Your spouse, adult sons and daughters, your parents, all the adults you know have unique brains capable of their own thinking. You may find this harder than it sounds if you are accustomed to living in multiple heads other than your own, and in yourown.
Why is this important? It’s fundamental to trust, growth, respect, equality, mutuality and all those good things. I’d suggest it would be highly disrespectful of me to assume I am better at doing your thinking than you are at doing yourthinking. If I focus my mind on my business and trust you will do the same, the meeting of our minds has the potential to enhance both of us. Conversely, if every time we talk or spend time together you cross over in my head it is likely much of my energy will be spent, not in thinking and exploring with you, but in attempts to safeguard my head-territory.
One of my very favorite pieces of art. It’s from Gorky Park, Moscow. Street artist — 1992.
Allow yourself to experience your emotions – even the extremes. Don’t cover or hide from your grief. If you are feeling joy, express it. Avoid constructing a wall or barrier between you and your emotions. The day may come when you cannot see over the barrier, let alone climb the wall.
Take time to hear as many “sides” to every story. Don’t rush to judgment. There are usually 7, 8, even 10 sides to every story. Hear them all. Things are often not as they appear. Listeners take all the time needed to hear things out.
As far as you’re capable, go back and make right where you have failed. Often, this may be impossible. Make a list of your regrets, determine never to move in those directions again. Learn, recover, learn recover.
Even if it’s not in your usual habit, try to talk more to people you care about about the things you care about. Don’t rehash hobby horses. Let people into unexpressed parts of your thinking.
Notice your indifference. This is where you’ve been unmoved, unaffected, by things that ought to move everybody, ought to affect everybody. Allow the world about you, near and afar, to have its impact on you.
One corner of my home office……. you’re welcome here.
I know competition is tough, really tough, but I think I win the International Best Sister Award. My Australian brother would win a parallel brother award but today I’m celebrating my South African sister, Durban’s own Jennifer Arthur.
As I’ve previously written Jen is the original Facebook. She remembers everyone she’s ever met, be it for 7 minutes on a train or plane somewhere in the world, and somehow gets them a birthday message. She keeps contact with people for years despite the brevity of a first encounter. There’s always a way to stay in touch and Jen finds it.
Jen’s adored by her 9 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild and by my adult sons. I’ve heard children, seen their longing, as they request she be their grandmother. My sister is widely known as Granny Goose.
This week, in fact 3 days ago, my sister landed in the USA for my son’s wedding, a journey booked without awareness that I’d be in need of assistance following my joust with salmonella. My kitchen is organized, my house has beautiful new touches, and recuperation feels 100 times easier.
Even Duke my Lab has switched allegiances and is under her feet as much as possible.
You may earn more than I do and live in a nicer house – but our loneliness is probably the same. When it rips us apart it doesn’t really matter who has the most cash or the nicest home. Loneliness doesn’t care where we live or about our financial status. Invite me in – perhaps we can be friends and ease our common pain.
You may be more educated than I am and you may have graduated from a respected university – but I know that if you regard anyone, anywhere with contempt, your education has given you little worth knowing. I may not be very bright by your standards but I do know that truly educated people never use it as a weapon. Talk to me – I might be able to teach you a thing or two.
You may be more travelled than I am and can talk about places I have not heard of or could afford to visit in my wildest dreams – but if travel has made you contemptuous of your homeland and its peoples then travel has not done its finer work in you. Citizens of the world find beauty and wonder everywhere. Come to my house – my culture is as interesting as any you will find on any distant shore.
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