April 12, 2013

In a society that preaches and teaches being powerful, what teaches us how to be powerless? As I watched Life of Pi, this question seized my heart. Watching Pi fight for survival, using the supplies he had, and his will to live; powerlessness still came at him over and over again. How do we learn to live with powerlessness in day-to-day life? How do we know when to use our will and when to surrender? The obvious answers that came from the film were nature and life itself. There are things we cannot control.

Then, another answer clearly spoke softly to me…and parenting.

Parenting is a life long lesson in powerlessness for me. As a young parent, I expected myself to be all powerful as the ‘big’ one to this ‘little’ one who had been gifted to me. It was not long before this myth began to shatter.

There were fevers and boo-boos I could not prevent, including a small one biting through her tongue while jumping off a coffee table. I felt powerful in my ability to comfort and give medicine knowing that I could make this better. Then there was the time when my overly tired child had a full-blown tantrum in the middle of the shopping mall. Wallering in the floor, thrashing about, screaming and wailing, I sat and waited it out. Strangers walking by would look about to see if a parent was nearby, would see me 15 feet away (the nearest seat), I would nod and they would walk on. Some shook their heads in disgust or disbelief; others smiled knowingly. I was powerless and could only wait out the storm. The tantrum lasted less than five minutes. It felt like eternity to me. Slowly, I learned to embrace this state with grace.

When my oldest was 13, she was crying in her bed over something or someone that had hurt her feelings. There was nothing I could do except love her and be a witness to her pain with faith in her to help herself. I remember vividly saying to her, “When you were little, Mama could make the hurts better. Now you are bigger and I can’t fix everything anymore. I can hold you and love you. And I believe in you to be big enough to get through this on your own.” She cried harder as I held her. When I went to bed that night, I cried too. She was growing up and out of my reach.

As our children grow and spread their wings, this state becomes more constant. As they drive away for the first time in our car (yikes!), have their first adventures/mishaps in love, choose which parent to live with, and on and on. Each time I learned more about trusting them and their angels because there was nothing much I could do.

I came to see that parenting is a journey in letting go, a little more each year, until they know they can fly on their own. This is evolution and is supported by our belief in them.

This is powerlessness with grace.