Sophie definitely has a bit of my temperament. She is a happy,
curious child, but she is also intense. I'm not even sure intense is the
right word, but she could never be mistaken for laid back or
easy-going. I find it amazing that this is so obvious even from this
age. So much seems to just be hard-wired in there.
I just hope she doesn't worry the way I did. It's taken me 38 years to get to where I am now, a much tempered down, relaxed version of a completely neurotic, worried woman. Maybe I can pass on some of the coping skills I have learned (finally) to deal with my overly active imagination and hyper-empathy. Maybe she has just enough of Ron's temperament to stay in the present -- something at which he is exceedingly good and at which I, until recently, have failed miserably.
I also hope I can help her find some level of peace with her place in the Universe. That's what has helped me. Feeling some sense of, I don't know, spirituality. To let go and let God, as my grandmother says. I really didn't get how to do that until the last year or so. That whether or not this life is all we have, it's all we know right now, and it is to be enjoyed. To be kind, but that you can be kind without feeling you have to save everyone.
I just finished reading this book, Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year, by Anne Lamott. Excellent book. In one entry she tells about this story of a home or school for autistic children who were so far on the severe end of the spectrum that they couldn't walk. She says they tied a rope across the room and found that the children could walk by holding on to the rope. Then they made it just a string, then just a piece of fishing wire, and the children could still walk. If they took it away, they couldn't. So finally she says they cut up the fishing wire and gave each child a small piece and with it, they were able to walk. An amazing story, and one she uses to illustrate her faith a bit. I love that image. It's taken me my entire life to find my little piece of fishing wire. I hope I can help Sophie find hers early on.
I just hope she doesn't worry the way I did. It's taken me 38 years to get to where I am now, a much tempered down, relaxed version of a completely neurotic, worried woman. Maybe I can pass on some of the coping skills I have learned (finally) to deal with my overly active imagination and hyper-empathy. Maybe she has just enough of Ron's temperament to stay in the present -- something at which he is exceedingly good and at which I, until recently, have failed miserably.
I also hope I can help her find some level of peace with her place in the Universe. That's what has helped me. Feeling some sense of, I don't know, spirituality. To let go and let God, as my grandmother says. I really didn't get how to do that until the last year or so. That whether or not this life is all we have, it's all we know right now, and it is to be enjoyed. To be kind, but that you can be kind without feeling you have to save everyone.
I just finished reading this book, Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year, by Anne Lamott. Excellent book. In one entry she tells about this story of a home or school for autistic children who were so far on the severe end of the spectrum that they couldn't walk. She says they tied a rope across the room and found that the children could walk by holding on to the rope. Then they made it just a string, then just a piece of fishing wire, and the children could still walk. If they took it away, they couldn't. So finally she says they cut up the fishing wire and gave each child a small piece and with it, they were able to walk. An amazing story, and one she uses to illustrate her faith a bit. I love that image. It's taken me my entire life to find my little piece of fishing wire. I hope I can help Sophie find hers early on.
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