Getting Out of the Way, Seeing My Son Soar............... 9/16/11

A stunt kite. The type I use. On the west end of the
 island where I live, I can fly a kite daily. It has
two strings, making this airborne item controllable
and plenty of fun.  It's one way I decompress. 

      It is easy, getting enmeshed with others.

      We rescue them from their problems and drama.  It is a common way of ignoring our issues.  Focusing on the needs of others distracts us from facing our disturb-
ing feelings.

      Rescuing people is exhausting, we are crossing boundaries.   It's an important distinction to care about, but not for others----in the sense of doing their duties for them.

       For a better idea about what I mean, I leave the following excerpt from another page in this inn:

  To let go doesn’t mean to stop caring:

            it means I can’t do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off:
    it is the realization that I can’t control
    another.

To let go is not to enable: but to allow learning 
         from natural consequences.....

To let go is not to care for, but to care about. 

To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

For the complete version of this text, please click here. 

Parenting and Flying Kites

      I spent several hours with my oldest son.

      He's on break from school this week. We walked around town and had an early dinner.  At a Chinese restaurant we ate; it's a favorite style of cooking we both like.

      We camped at the restaurant for an hour and a half, bonding, catching up on each other's lives.

      I'm not with him much.  He has a girlfriend, a large social network, is president of the local chapter of the American Marketing Association. He is completing his college education and works as a manager.

       Other than that, he's not busy.

       I've let him know he's my son, not my child.  Of course, he's my biological child.  I don't mean it that way.

      I'm referring to parenting him.  I no longer have an upper hand, telling him what to do.  I have gotten out of his way, stepping aside.

       For a long time, he's not been my child.  As my adult son; he's my equal.  I learn and grow when in his presence.

       It's terrific enjoying him for the fabulous adult he is.

      I value his insights.  He helps me grow: he challenges me, providing added perspec-tive.  I marvel at the gift of him being in my life.

      I am hum-bled, in a good way, being his father.  What an amazing gift he has been for me. He provides connection, closeness, clarity and  emotional safety.

      He appreciates me in ways that deeply nurture me.

      Writing the last three paragraphs brings tears to my eyes.  I strongly love and cherish him.

      Raising children is similar to flying kites. with one exception.

      I enjoy flying-two stringed stunt kites, similar to the one featured at the beginning of this post.  As a child, I flew the one stringed version of those contraptions.  In college it was a box kite.

      I'd fold it up, kept it in the trunk of my car.  I'd let it loose in the wind when I wanted to unwind from the pressures of attend-ing U.C. Berkeley.  Of course it wouldn't hurt taking a female coed.  We'd fly the kite at the beach in Santa Cruz or the Berkeley Marina.

     Back to parenting.  It's like flying a kite.  Once in flight---gradually---you let out more and more string.

     We don't cling unto the kite, hugging it close to our chest, smothering it.  This colorful, tailed object was made to dance, at length, among the clouds.  The difference between parenting and kiting is---at some point, as parents----we heed the quote at the beginning of today's post.

     We let go.

     I'm proud seeing my son untethered, soaring brilliantly in the sky of his life, dancing among the clouds.