Imagine that...Darwin was right!

“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.”

That, in essence, is one of the keys to successful parenting. Changing as they change, adapting to their growth and doing a bit of growing myself. Oh, and learning the art of acceptance. 

When one of your kids says he's going to join an ashram, it's hard not to feel a sarcastic barb coming on. I bit my lip, held my tongue and nodded my head. Oh my God that is all a lie. I freaked out, I cried, I yelled, I questioned and then I cried some more. Why would he want to move so far away and begin a lifestyle so foreign to anything he's known for 28 years? Why would he want to give up (at least temporarily) women, going out for beers with friends, living in a vibrant, fun city? Why wasn't I more aware of the internal struggles he suffered so that I could help him?

OK, that last question has a very obvious answer. Because I couldn't help him. Because he needed to live his life and figure out his own issues and work on quieting his soul. There are some things even the most conscientious mother just can't do for her kid. Especially, when  he's not a kid anymore.

As he explained his leaving, he had a pretty sharp barb of his own to throw my way, saying something that at the time, seared so deep it took my breath away. "You know, we can't all live in this house together forever." Yeah, that was hard to hear. But it was a true statement and though I was fortunate enough to have my kids around for longer than most people, it almost made it tougher as they have each forged their path and left the cocoon.

And that's another thing. Do not EVER refer to my house as an empty nest. I truly feel an urge to smack people when they ask me about my 'empty nest'. Firstly, it's never really empty. Secondly, it connotes a void, a vacuous space, hollow, devoid. In other words, quiet. I hate quiet. When my four kids were small, I never got any quiet. I longed for it, yearned for it but I learned quickly enough to be careful wishing for that, for the moment it started to become a reality, I turned my stereo louder. 

As I watch them develop into real human beings - young adults with ideas and passions and goals of their own - I feel a sense of completion and contentment. After all, this was my original goal in becoming a mom. Nuture the hell out of them and then be brave enough to set them free. Sounds like an easy and fool-proof plan. But throughout the years, I hadn't really considered the fact that in my success, I also lose them to the world a bit and I have to be OK with that.

I am still learning and growing and figuring out how to truly (and I mean TRULY) accept their choices. They don't always make it easy, but I'm gonna pass this class and eventually, I'm going to get an A.