Wednesday, November 3, 2010

A Page from His Book

Eckart Tolle says that worrying is useless, but pretends to be important. Most of what we have running through our minds at any given moment is repetitive and not helpful. The solution, of course, is to quiet the mind and be in the moment - in stillness.

For those of us raised with the don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today mentality, being in stillness feels like a big waste of time. The effort to be still and present is huge when the To Do list won't shut up, and when given a few minutes to gather oneself, feels like the perfect opportunity to not be, but to do.

When I am able to quiet myself through prayer, meditation, walking, even ironing or folding clothes, emptying the dishwasher, something mindless and repetitive, there is an undeniable peace that is right there for the taking if only I will allow myself to take it.

Why does giving up worrying feel like giving up? Control. I know that Mary is in full control of things, sees and knows things I can't begin to know, but I feel positively compelled to keep offering her tidbits of advice and a whole bunch of Don't Forgets.

Rojo tells me every single day now that he is not going to college and in fact, the minute he's done with high school he's getting married and having his five sons. He is not going to work. His work will be raising his boys. He will hear of nothing else. It's one thing when your three-year-old tells you he wants to grow up and be an astronaut. That's cute. That's appropriate. That's even possible. It's another thing when your 14-year-old child with some big ass special needs tells you his one and only dream is to be a father. It's heartbreaking.

And while it's true that he constantly surprises me and is able to do things now I thought we'd never live to see the day he could do, there is a fine line between being hopeful and denial. Between trusting and being naive. Between believing in miracles and being realistic.

I think, for me, the task at hand is to walk that fine line with my eyes toward all possibility, and my mind not on worry, but on being with what is. Gentle, hopeful, peaceful awareness.

And what is ain't all bad. While it's true he still can't tie his shoes or brush his own teeth, the boy is surrounded by angels. He is happy. One might go so far as to say blissful. He has his moments of anxiety and stress, but they pass quickly. He has full confidence that his mother and father are working everything out for him. He falls asleep quickly and rests all night knowing when he wakes up his every need will be provided for. There will always be enough. He shall not want for anything. He will be safe. He will be happy. He will be loved.

Now it is time for me to believe the same about my own Father and Mother.

12 comments:

Wanda said...

Got my own (different) issues, but I am right there with you. By the way...many of us would have loved to have a father like Rojo.

Amber said...

The first thing I think when I rad about Rojo's wish to be home and be a dad to his kids, is that it is OBVIOUS he sees this as the best thing to "be"-- because he sees the best person he knows doing it for him every day. Him saying this is just his way of saying the best thing he can think of is to be like you.

He will grow up between now and then, and he will see he is like you already, because you gave him his heart.

:)
((love))

kario said...

Gorgeous.
Gorgeous.

But still undeniably difficult to be still and in the moment. No matter how much I practice. We want what we want and those habits die hard, don't they?

Tanya @ TeenAutism said...

Amber's comment is so lovely. And true. But I'm with you on the heartbreaking part. And the being with what is part. I'll try to focus on that too.

Elizabeth said...

I'm imagining Rojo having his five children in some way -- perhaps he'll be working with them, helping them -- they will be his in that sense. I think he's on to something although these five might not necessarily been "born" to him.

Anonymous said...

I really like what Amber said.

It's so hard when everyone is pushing our kids to decide what they want to be when they grow up. Most teenagers have so little understanding of the world, or, usually, themselves, that they have no tools or information to use to make decisions like that. And, really, how many people do you know who are doing something they thought of when they were in high school? My job didn't even exist when I was that age.

That said, it still feels impossible to give up the worry, and the grief over the shattered images of what we thought would be. We just keep trying. And breathing.

Anonymous said...

Can he work with kids? Volunteer? There are many ways to be a dad. Just thinking.

Deb Shucka said...

Yes, my friend, yes. All these shades of gray mean choices none of us can see right now, and don't get to until they're needed.

Like Rojo, we all have had dreams that shift and change as we get older. The essence perhaps the same, but the manifestation different.

Anonymous said...

deb said it perfectly.

yes.

and as always, the boy has such lessons for us all. faith. grace. peace.

Anonymous said...

Yes, Amber already spoke my thoughts... that as the time draws closer, Rojo will adjust his vision of fatherhood accordingly, will find his road to nurturing others because he has learned that value from you. A perfectly appropriate aspiration for him to express, just don't take it too literally.

-e-

Anonymous said...

There are so many parts of your son that I want to tap into for myself every single day. I admire you both so much.

Unknown said...

this absolutely confirms how truly loved Rojo is.

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