I am easing into February this year.
In the past I have had high expectations for this month, the bridge between the coldest days of winter and the promise of spring.
This year February feels like a place to rest, a chance to accept where I am right now.
Much has shifted and changed in the past year, particularly my role in the lives of my children.
In the words of Kahlil Gibran:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the past of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows
may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran published by Alfred A. Knopf, 1966.
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8 comments:
I like this time of year, January, February, and into March. It seems like a quiet lull between the Christmas holidays and the busy-ness of Spring, a peaceful time when I'm inclined to stay home, indoors, write and enjoy the comforts there. Which in a way all parallels the place of the verse you shared here, that in between place with tuggings at either end while we consider both.
So true about "our children"; I realize this more every day, especially now that my son is married.
Another timely post, Sharon. Lately I've had some phone conversations with my son that have left me feeling empty or nagging... not sure why. Thanks for this poem to remind me that I cannot always make things better for my grown child.
My parents gave me Gibran's book when I was in college, and the words still resonate in my soul, along with those of Christ, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
I've "given" my children away in phases, the process most recently being completed as my daughter wed a wonderful young man.
Still, a mother is only as happy as her saddest child...
Blessings, dear one.
Patti
This is EXACTLY what I needed to hear today. Sometimes I forget that Naya is her own person, and that I cannot control her. Thank you.
A friend gave me a card with this poem upon the birth of my first daughter. I have always tried to heed the wise words of the author...of course that is not always simple for a mother, but I have tried. This same child was away from home (up in Maine actually) Friday and Saturday for a science competition from school. I missed her so much...knowing that she is growing up and coming closer to the day when she really will leave home. It is much harder to know this now than it was when she was a newborn. And yet, I am so grateful that this baby/child/becoming young woman soul has honored me with the joy of being her mother and will no doubt continue to be a shining vessel of light in the world when she does move out into the world on her own in a couple of years.
What a good thing to remember. Always.
Thanks for this post. I'm willing to slowly and steadily let my children evolve, but I find that the process moves in fits and starts. We reach a plateau where everyone is comfortable, and then they push for a leap that seems too sudden for me. It's always interesting, and love keeps us glued together despite the strains.
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