They seem small, innocuous, inconsequential, those little conversations we have with our children. As parents, we instruct, admonish, encourage, console. As I look back over the years on conversations that I’ve had with my son, I find myself wondering what he will remember. There are so many conversations I remember having with my mother, conversations that she doesn’t recall, but which are seared into my memory so deeply I can remember the light in the room, the furrow of her brow, and the feel of my head against her shoulder. Usually, they started with a question I had, something that occurred in the news that didn’t fit with my understanding of the world, or some nagging thought that just wouldn’t leave my brain.
My mother could best be described as my polar opposite…she is fairly quiet, composed, soft-spoken. She is slow to anger, and although she possesses a beautiful smile, my main purpose in life was, and still is, to get her to break into full-blown laughter. If you’ve managed to make my mother laugh to the point she cannot speak, you have indeed accomplished something truly remarkable. Consequently, I had a great sounding board for my endless contemplations—I could question life’s rewards and inequities without judgment.
This is not to say that she had all the answers, or even pretended to have them. Nor were the answers that she did provide, simple solutions. Just as I could always count on her listening ear and her unconditional love, I could also count on her infinite capacity to love others, and to challenge me to do the same. I was allowed to disagree, but only with kindness and respect. I certainly had a right to be hurt by injustices, but I was also encouraged to put myself in the place of the offending party, looking at the situation from their point of view.
Looking at life from multiple perspectives became so ingrained in me that it was, and continues to be, second nature. This is not to say it doesn’t present its own set of challenges, creating in me a tendency to analyze not only others, but my own thoughts and actions, constantly re-evaluating why I believe what I believe and why I do what I do. If there was ever a poster child for over thinking, I am she.
I am obsessed with Joni Mitchell’s song, “Both Sides Now”. The lens through which we view the world colors and shapes the reality in which we live, and that lens is ground by our experiences. Just as clouds are constantly changing, things change, we change, and just when you think you have it figured out…life changes yet again. This is so beautifully expressed through the lyrics, and when I feel the world shifting under my feet, it has become the mantra I sing to myself, finding comfort in the words that acknowledge and embrace the uncertainty and inevitability of change. And then one day, I realized that this could be the focus that might tie my writings together. So, in honor of my mother’s 85th birthday, I am launching my blog, “Now…from both sides.”
Now... From Both Sides 