The Borg said it so well
A few weeks ago one of my yoga teachers was chatting during class with her usual yoga banter, it is sort of a distraction from the 110 degree heat and the effort it takes to hold a 60 second pose in that environment, when she divulged a nugget of wisdom I have held dear since that class. It went something like this: every breakthrough is not necessarily a physical one or a spectacular one. Some breakthroughs are simply an acknowledgment that you can't achieve a certain goal today and the peace you find in such a discovery. Her words had such an impact on me and I find myself mulling them over on a daily basis. Partly because I am a lifelong underachiever but also because I often believe that progress must be magnificent and shiny in order to merit any satisfaction.
Today my teacher's words again surfaced in my mind when I found myself battling Loren. I was on perhaps my third argument with him about chores, time management and why I couldn't/wouldn't hop in the car and drive 90 miles to pick up an iPhone for him. I kept wondering why his debating was chewing on my soul in such a fierce manner when it hit me: it wasn't just that argument, it was the ever present resistance I feel when dealing with the children. Loren is focused on himself 100% in the way that only a teenager or an infant can be. Cassidy must win all situations at just about any cost to the players involved. Devon simply wears at my existence like a steady water drip in a Chinese punishment camp. Okay, maybe that is a bit drastic, but seriously, I often feel that no matter where I turn I hit a wall. Not a comforting padded wall but the sort of wall that prevents me from sitting or relaxing or breathing. And there doesn't seem to be a damn thing I can do about it. I made these kids. I parented them to this stage, shaped them and this is what I have created. Fuck. Not so comforting at times. I only have a few years left with Loren and this is who he is. Why wasn't I more strict with them? Perhaps I should have implemented more chores and basic living skills into their daily agendas.
After about an hour of self-flogging and a mandatory time out from Loren, he sat across from me in the car and said, "Maybe I really should go to law school someday. It would definitely suck to go to school for so long, but maybe it would be a good way to spend some of my energy." I wanted to hug him and tell him that yes, using his natural God given powers for good and not for torturing his mother was a good goal indeed, but I knew he was only buttering me up so that I would stop being cold and distant to him. Instead I thought about the resistance, realized it wasn't going away and took a deep breath in before I let it out. On the next breath the resistance was still there in the car beside me but it wasn't as weighty as earlier in the day. It looked like my son and I loved him all the more for it. Surely that is some sort of progress? Or maybe resistance really is futile.