Horizon at Sandy Point

Friday, September 29, 2017

Child of the child

It is a soul-stirring experience when the child of your child is born. The son is at the age you were when you birthed him. That moment when you first held him comes flooding back: this tiny fragile loud human separate and apart. You knew everything then and you see it in him; every person at 33+ is old beyond their years, all-knowing at the peak of power. You have been regressing since, less amazed by what you know, more humbled by what you now know you didn't know.

This is what the term paradigm shift was coined for. This certainty that you need no further future; investing all in these generations. This hope, these fears, for all that might or must befall your child now he is a father, a husband, a man. These prayers for the child of the child.

Whatever sure-footed certainty existed before you bore children, started disappearing the minute the first was born; by the second, you progress towards unknowing. No wonder that parents with more than two, with five or nine or fourteen, lose identity. Child bearing and rearing are, in any age, running in the dark, sometimes with scissors in your hands, always your heart in your mouth. Your lion heart learns quietude when you have a child; it learns to listen, to hear the wild howling of the world; to steal the stillness with which you surround and protect your child and what's precious to him or her.  Your boldness learns humility in the face of all the dread, that none may find your child or your child's child.

When your child has a child, you want the world to be better, to be blessed, to be alright.

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