Happy Birthday!

Sometimes, I am amazed that I actually continue to learn day in and day out. You would think that as I approach another year and another birthday, in the middle of my life, I would have learned all that I need to know and would be applying and imparting that knowledge.

But I am continually surprised by the fact that there are more nuanced meanings to the things that I thought I had already learned... For instance, I remember on my 16th birthday, my Mom gave me a hand-made paperweight with Raymond Duncan's quote:

"The best substitute for experience is being sixteen."

At first, I took this as a compliment; as a sixteen-year-old, I believed I should and could do anything. The meaning of those words was clear to me as a young adult... Go forth and do, don't let anything or anyone hold you back.

Then, several years ago, my oldest daughter turned thirteen, and for the first time, I realized the extended meaning of Duncan's words. Teenagers think they know everything (at least mine do) and can do anything. I know that I felt that way. But over time, experience showed me that I clearly didn't know everything, and some things should not be done (under any circumstance).

But that kind of experience only comes through trial (and error). So how the heck can you get a teenager to understand that? The answer is you can't. So the trick for me, as a parent, is to give my children the benefit of my experience without forcing it on them. Give them the space, time, and cushion to learn things independently- this is the magical parenting trick. And if I am being quite honest, I still don't have a handle on how to do this. With my two oldest kids in high school and my youngest just entering her own pre-teen years, we have too many fights because I haven't quite learned how to get them to accept some of my hard-earned experience, nor have I learned to just let go and keep my experience to myself.

However, I'm sure it made my Mom smile when I told her I "figured out" Duncan's words. I hope my epiphany gave her some satisfaction, knowing that by age 40, I had learned a lesson she started teaching me at 16. I only hope I am as successful with my kids.

Which brings me to my thoughts today, the anniversary of my birth. I've spent some time reflecting on the first half (or so) of my life this week. In particular, thinking about what the second half will have in store for me. I don't think this is uncommon for someone to do on his or her birthday. It is like a mid-year performance review at work.

But each time I start to reflect, I remember reading and discussing the words of Walt Whitman's poem, Youth, Day, Old Age and Night, in my high school American Lit class:

Youth, large, lusty, loving--youth full of grace,
force, fascination,
Do you know that Old Age may come after you with
equal grace, force, fascination?

Day full-blown and splendid--day of the immense
sun, action, ambition, laughter,
The Night follows close with millions of suns, and
sleep and the restoring darkness.

I am sure that the common interpretation of every student in my class was that Whitman's poem was an admonition to us (young people). What I remember from that American Literature lecture was the admonishment that "you won't always be young and that old age and death are approaching." The takeaway was to enjoy your fleeting youth because it doesn't last.

I know that when young people act selfishly, their "fleeting youth" is part of the reason. But that doesn't make the actions any less selfish. I worry that if the selfishness goes unchecked, it will grow into a pattern that will continue throughout their lives. At the same time, I can see that I was (on occasion) selfish, and I turned out okay (at least according to most).

So, while I do want my children to enjoy their youth, I also want them to learn from the mistakes I've already made. I do understand and recognize, in the logical part of my brain, that they need to make their own mistakes. But when they make choices that seem to be selfish to me, this paradigm of learning from experience does seem like a no-win situation.

What I'd really like my kids to learn is something that I know now, twenty-five plus years from high school, I know to be true: Youth is certainly fleeting, but life isn't always a zero-sum game. Most things are not a "me or them" or a "right or wrong" exercise. When I first read Whitman's words, I got it wrong. Youth is not at the expense of Age, nor vice-versa.

Just as I realized there is more than one meaning to Duncan’s experience quote, I know that Whitman's words have a more nuanced meaning...

There is beauty, strength, and wonder yet to be found for the young and the old. Whitman was not lamenting aging; he wasn't saying that night and age are stalking us, lying in wait to steal our grace, force, and fascination. His words have a deeper meaning. As we grow older and more experienced, all of these things can be found in abundance, in ourselves, in our children, in those we love, and who surround us -- each of them a bright star in the darkness of our individual nights.

As I blow out the candles on my birthday cake this year, my wish will be two-fold. First, I will wish to find better ways to impart my newfound wisdom to my kids (in ways that they won't see as lessons). Second, and more importantly, I will wish that the individual action, ambition, and laughter of every "sun" in my night sky not only measure up but burn so brightly that they exceed the grace, force, and fascination of the brightest day.