Stolen heart

This morning as Lily turns 14

Lily turns 14 today. In fact, she already has ... at 1:47 a.m., to be exact. She bounced into the world rather quickly (7 hours compared to 29 with my first – I have a theory about birth experience/length and how it relates to later behavior) and mostly without the assistance of the physician, who ran in to catch her. The nurses, Lily and I did all of the work. That day and her fragility seem so far away. I do remember rocking on a yoga ball to ease the pain, that I took the epidural after careful consultation with the anaesthetist to ensure it would not re-injure a spinal wound and, 45 minutes later without breaking much of a sweat, this sweet thing was here!

She was a gorgeous, jolly baby always looking for a cue from her beloved older sister. She hasn't changed much. Except when she and I do battle, which has decreased and taught us each something from the other. No one has ever gotten under my skin the way she does. She irks me to no end, but also shows me the endless depths of love. I wrote about her on her 10th birthday:

She shows me what it's like to be wild and free. I model responsibility and discipline. We each desperately need each other, although it's hard for either of us to admit publicly.

Young Lily, busy at the computer; some things never change

In that post, I also wrote about how she whined our entire vacation that summer. That was my fear this summer, when we took the girls to Europe on a long-awaited, hard-earned trip. She was a gem, possibly because I shared the daily plan with her ahead. She likes to know what's coming. The four of us spent a lot of time together in close quarters for those two weeks. That experience eked into the rest of summer and we all liked being together. I sensed this time as ripe for that as both girls are now high schoolers and, all too soon, will be going off into the world on their own.

One of the surprisingly unexpected and wonderful gifts of the trip is how exceptionally close my girls have become. They were always cozy, but in a push-me, pull-me way.  Now, they respect and depend on each other, while each is quite independent. Lily is having the time of her life as a freshman, sampling so many activities, earning new friends and easily picking up a new language. Autumn is off to college classes two night a week as part of a post-secondary education option. They seem to be running in different circles, but after school they often walk somewhere to study or for a snack. That's about the only time they have together.

That means I see them each separately these days, which equates to less drama and more quality one-on-one. I have observed Lily grow into herself, keenly so. She is such a problem solver and always off on some creative adventure like making videos, sketching or having a scavenger hunt with her BFF. 

Lily and her BFF: Dr. Who Halloween

Under her confident smile and sometimes bristly facade lays a huge and tender heart. She still occasionally mentions the homeless woman we encountered in Chicago years ago laying in the alley: How do you think she is now, Mom?

As I have delved the past couple of years into astrology, I have grown more appreciative of her characteristics as a Virgo. A few weeks ago she asked me one of her incessant questions: "What's the most-hated astrology sign?"  I don't know, I answered, fearing it was my own. "Virgo – mine," she answered rather sadly. My wise friend Char shared an affirmation for Virgo with me that I will give Lily today. Here is an excerpt:

"I  accept deeply my keen analysis

and enquiring mind.

I accept fully my high energy

and amazing memory.

I accept fully my ability to see details,

to transform separate parts into meaningful wholes.

I am dependable.

I am precise.

I am meticulous yet practical.

I am industrious and self disciplined.

With great ease I refine, soften, and direct

my inexhaustible energies,

express my discrimination and wisdom

with courage, self reliance, and strength,

my power with delicacy and appropriateness

my invincibility with protectiveness.

I accept my extraordinary ability for self-sacrifice

and my high intuitive gifts that are rooted deeply

to my instinctive human sympathy.

The birthright of Virgo is

to pierce the Grand Illusion of Life."

Lily is ALL of these and more; she's my private wild child who has stolen my heart. Like when Max leaves the wild things, they cry:

“Oh please don't go  – we'll eat you up – we love you so!"

• Who am I close to that gets under my skin?
• Why is that?"
• What do I have to learn from that person?
• What do I have to teach?
• Where is Spirit in this relationship?


tangled hair,
but perfectly
made-up eyes

though I don't
see why

she has a natural,
wild beauty

but, I suppose,
at age 14, she's
fallen prey
to teen experimentation
and off-kilter
marketing that
says otherwise

she has to
discover these
things on her own

as I stand back
and witness
her growing
more and
more into
herself

beautifully

Listen to this post:

Not elementary any more

I am beginning to hate junior high. And I didn't realize what a touchstone it is for me.

All summer, I regaled my oldest with stories about the possibilities of new friendships with untapped groups of students just when it seemed you'd outgrown some of your old ones and elementary school. All summer, we shopped for school supplies on sale, making it a kind of hunt. All summer, we slid into a relaxed schedule with some shape. All summer, we looked forward to this new experience.

And now it is upon us.

I think my daughter is taking it much better than I. It is making me realize when some of my personal issues evolved: IN JUNIOR HIGH. At the time, it just seemed like the flow of life and progression toward adulthood. Now, I see it as something very different and so extremely counter to what my intuition tells me.

So far, it's all about rules, pleasing this teacher and that. Rules probably aimed at troublemakers, but sucking the life out of everyone else. Since when should using the bathroom be a privilege? Of course it must be monitored, but when my kid comes home saying she had to wait hours, it bothers me. Reminds me when, in seventh grade, I was late to class by two mere minutes. My time of the month and it was all new to me and too embarrassing to tell my male science teacher why I was really late. So, I said I was sick. I got my choice of a paddling or writing sentences. Pretty humiliating for a good student never before in any trouble.

Now, I would loudly boom: "Oh, Mr. Ross, I was changing my tampon and it took a little time as it's kind of new to me." Wonder what the punishment would have garnered? His reddened face?

Now I clearly see it as ego. Not mine. Maybe not even the teacher's. Maybe an institutional or cultural ego that snaps: "You will NOW do things as I say."

A rude awakening from the nurturing arms of elementary school.

That ego commands: buy MORE supplies in two days when stores are wiped out, well past back-to-school and into Christmas. Find a very, very specific calculator that none of the three office-supply or three big-box stores nearby carries. I could order a teacher's set of 10 for $200 or travel over 50 miles to another location. How difficult, really, would it have been to put that on the summer list?

I have a lot more gripes, some stem from a rather rude introduction last year and treatment as a number and not a child.

So I ache for my daughter and pray for the wisdom to guide her through this messy maze that could wound her.

Why aren't we teaching kids this age to be more of who they are, not form them like little drones into what a system says they should be. Boxing them in so they forget they ever had a sense of themselves and begin to conform to other's expectations and demands.

I now realize that's when it began for me. When I became part of the system. A system that just spits us out.

As I grieve that for myself with recent awareness, I also pray the lessons help me be a better mother in guiding my daughter into being more of who she is regardless of what any institution tells her.

Not elementary any more, is it?

• Can I identify a time early in my life when my wounds were inflicted?
• How can I safely explore them?
• How can I use them as spiritual growth for me and, possibly, in guiding others?
• When and where have I encountered institutional damage?
• How can I counter that?


My child


not really
a child anymore


forced
to
grow up


just because


some
system
somewhere
says
it's time


and I
try to
offer
the
respite
of her
own time


as
my heart
aches
and breaks


remembering