Maggie struggles with math. I don't know if it's her, or us, or school, or numbers, or circumstance...or all of the above. But, true to her heritage, she communicates, she reads, words come naturally and she understands their uses and spelling and usefulness without trying. On my side of the equation, we have the gift of gab. On Megan's side of the equation, deliberation and empathy.
I know I've bitched ad nauseum about how Maggie's weakness ruins school for her, and that hasn't changed, but I'm going to focus on the positive.
To talk, to really talk, is a heartwarming experience. Her life and energy are a jumpstart after the drains of a day full of thinking, thinking, thinking. To talk to her is to live.
Religion is important, not because of any complete truth that it holds, but because in each form, the truth that humankind is diverse exists in its observation of God.
Here's something that has always baffled and, frankly, terrified me: introducing friends of mine to each other.
How do people successfully combine groups of friends? I am always totally consumed by the negative possibilities: what about all the things they DON'T have in common?; what are the expectations established by this introduction?; how do we get out of this situation if they don't like each other?; what are the expectations being established for the future?; if this is a party, will they be invited to the next party?; will anyone actually tell me if this was a bad decision?; what if one side thinks it was and the other doesn't?; am I completely insane?
All of these thoughts, and memories of past failures, most often lead me to steer clear of "group mixing."
I think some of my terror stems from the fact that I consider myself to be pretty good at social maneuvering, and mixing friends is a big chink in my armor. I feel personally responsible for the possibility of failure, not to mention liable for ACTUAL failure!
I wonder what Maggie and Lennon will be? What will they be?
This is not a consuming question for me, one that drives each decision and direction with a pre-determined outcome in mind. It's one that only rarely occurs to me, but each time it leads to an interesting self-study. I have never much felt myself to be anyTHING. I think the closest I've ever been was in high school when I viewed myself as The Actor. I enjoyed theatre, always felt good at it, and received a lot of validation. Even so, though, I enjoyed sports and classes, though I never felt them to be a niche. I sort of dabbled in a little of everything, and my friendships reflected that. My social circle dabbled in a little of every group, with no strong attachment to any one.
The few times I've had to ask myself as an adult, "What will I DO, what will I BE?" I haven't had an answer. As we awaited Maggie's arrival, and as I finished my degree (two standout "adult" moments in my life) I distinctly remember these questions being completely bewildering to me. Still today I have no strong sense of self or direction, no overarching identity to which I cling. I told someone recently that if ever I leave Bethel, I would not likely seek a job as a fundraiser. I don't consider myself a fundraiser, I fundraise FOR BETHEL. I suppose something else may ignite a passion for me down the road, but I have no idea what it is.
This lack of a self image that "fits" is a little ironic. I'm admittedly narcissistic, spending more time than I should meditating on how I "came off" in certain situations, very interested in how people see what I do. Part of that narcissism keeps me talking in mixed company, though I often go into social situations telling myself, "Sit back and watch this time, learn from other people." That self-centeredness definitely manifests itself primarily as behavior that assumes everyone wants to hear what I'm thinking, unfiltered and unencumbered by "appropriateness of situation." But I have a real distaste for aloof arrogance, so I present as kind of a blushing, self-depricating narcissist. See, total shallow presence in disparate identities with no serious residence in either!
In fact, digressing in this post from "What will my kids be?" is clear evidence for my narcissism.
I only want them to love and be loved. In the pressure cooker of child-rearing (how early to start sports, arts, reading, learning, social interaction, religion, etc.) I want them only to be loved and to love others.
And I wish for them freedom to be. May we grant them the freedom to be. To paraphrase Nanci Griffith, there in their future, I hope I've not failed them.
