Orientation Days

Written six years ago ...

I am sitting here on a wooden stool in “PROJECT Forty Nine”. Groovy music is playing. Other people are in here, busy with their morning coffee meetings, joined by their laptops, mobile phones and other gadgetry. I become aware that I am using a pen to write on paper!!! “Sacrilege” my children would say to me. But I smile and feel fine. I like keeping “old” technologies alive. Using a pen allows me space between my thoughts, free from distraction. I want to keep my power of attention.

The weather is changing. A cooling breeze wafts through the door, and the sky has become overcast. Perhaps it will rain? Yes, there’s a light shower. I hope it doesn’t get too heavy, or walking and window shopping while I wait for Tali, may be difficult. Never mind — part of the day’s adventure. This is a lovely cafe. It will be nice to return with Tim and the kids soon. It seems to be a favorite spot for workers around this block.

Time seems to stand still during moments like these; interludes of quiet amongst the busy fray of family life. I enjoy peaceful moments of reflection. Today is a bit surreal because I have a few hours to myself. I have imagined strolling through Melbourne streets, wandering into bookshops and clothing shops unhurried, looking at nice home wares, writing while I sit peacefully in a nice cafe sipping a hot chocolate, and watching life pass by for a while. I will take the opportunity to enjoy this day with my daughter, and to be myself. Mothers need to keep a strong but peaceful sense of self while we nurture our next generation.

I have loved being a wife and mother for nearly 22 years now. And my youngest little girl is turning 10 tomorrow! Life has been full, and full of meaning, and I look forward to the next stage. I sense that this chapter, with adult children starting to create their own lives, will involve practice of a lot of trust (in my Motherhood so far). I can say that I have tried more than my absolute best to care for and make capable. I look forward with great anticipation to seeing them create their lives as they see fit. As I finish my hot chocolate and get ready to wander for a while, I remember some words from Kahlil Gibran’s poem on children:

‘They come through you but not from 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.’

I think he’s right.