LibertyIsLife

Liberty is…

    Self-ownership.

    Personal accountability.

    Respect of others.

    Stewardship.

    Shouldering responsibility.

My life began the same as any other. Following a fleeting moment of vulnerability, heightened sensation, and connection between two persons, my body began its formation. While I was a stranger to these two, my life came into being. Cell division gave way to the beginnings of a skeleton, blood vessels, nerves, muscles, stumps of limbs, and a tiny heart began to beat. Before my eyes could see, my mouth could open, my tongue could suckle, my lungs could breathe, life flowed through my small, fragile form. Inches away from an inhospitable environment, yet I was warm, safe, and free.

The more I gained mastery over my developing senses, the more I became aware of this freedom. Free to dream, to wiggle, to wake or sleep, to soak in the sensation of the reassuring beat of my mother’s heart. Free to explore my known surroundings, to safely experience music, touch, emotions, and voices both strange and familiar. Everything was new to me as I experienced it for the first time.

Yet I was a stranger and a passenger. While I never chose to be, since the moment I came to be, my body strove for self-preservation, and every moment I soldiered on I held on to my existence “for dear life”. That old word “dear” does not even begin to describe this; no one had to teach me that my life is precious, it is of immeasurable value, that it matters, and that it is mine; I knew. With that knowledge of self-ownership came this intrinsic knowledge of my right to live. Liberty was not something I learned, liberty was at the root of my existence.

I was a stranger to these two persons, yet from the start I considered them my own. Ownership not in the sense of possession, but of belonging. I suppose when they became aware of my presence it must have come as quite the surprise. My existence had implications.

Everything I needed to prosper flowed into me from another person. I was born in debt to these two, with no way to communicate my indebtedness or pay the debt back. My existence signified change, coupled tightly with uncertainty – a sure recipe for fear and anxiety. These two were, by default, my stewards and caretakers, and what little I required to live could only come from them. My existence required new long term responsibilities, giving of themselves for me.

One of the things that sets humans apart from other creatures is the power to ponder – to hold things in our hearts, to grasp not only the tangible but the intangible, to take our thoughts captive and use them for a greater purpose – we are free and able to take command of our bodies and our thoughts.

There was no question of choice in my developing mind. I simply was; every new week of my short life I was awakening to awareness, taking joy in small things. I had no choice but to exist in this way. The two could have denied or resisted my existence, but I knew that I lived.

Sometime during the transition from discovering a stranger in their midst to accepting me as their own, they chose 

to honor the design and power of the body to nurture a new being, 

to be in awe of and support this miraculous process, 

to accept my existence,
to acknowledge my right to live, 

and ultimately to embrace the small passenger with hope, pride and joy. 

They chose not only to give what I required of them to meet my physical needs; they chose to give above and beyond – that is – love.

Parenting is Hard. So is Growing Up.

Raising a kid isn't easy. Ask anyone. Ask your mom or dad. My son inherited (or learned?) my stubbornness, which means he doesn't know when to throw in the towel. I suppose in certain situations that might be a good trait. Last night wasn't one of them. After hearing no over and over again he continued to pressure me to take him on a walk. No substitute would be accepted. Eventually, he admitted his throat hurt (from the strain of his temper tantrum), I suggested a tonic to soothe his throat, and soon he was quietly puttering about in the kitchen mixing ACV and water - and improvised an additional step that I didn't suggest, by following with coconut oil.

The moment you completely lose hope of your child's maturity he shows some glimmer that he is more self-sufficient and mature than yesterday. It's part of a child's (dare I say fallen?!) nature to push boundaries and speak for himself. It is also a parent's duty - not to repress all of the child's desires, but to distinguish for the child right wishes from wrong wishes and impress on the child that there is a right time and place for right desires. Wishes do not need to be instantly fulfilled, although right desires backed by good motives can serve as inspiration for planning the future.

I wish I could impress all these things on my child. I worry about him. I want him to learn that persuasion happens indirectly, by making someone else feel important, being kind and giving them every reason to trust you, listening to their side and respecting their choices, their terms, and their boundaries.

I believe my child will be better prepared for life if he learns to control his passions, channel his energy and look beyond his own interests and desires to the interests of others. I look forward to meeting the man he will become. For now, we go through this painful process of training. Every once in a while there is a glimmer showing progress, and often the progress occurs quietly and without mention.