Learning From Our Children

I think everyone agrees that children teach us many lessons.
Through them we learn the meaning of true love, patience and tolerance. One thing that’s certain, life with children is never dull.
One of my sons had struggled a bit with OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, while growing up. For those who don’t know, OCD is a condition which is mild enough to not really qualify as a disease, yet it causes quite a bit of discomfort, as the person affected is obsessed in repeating things until they get them perfectly. It could be categorized as a more severe case of nervous tics, and is often confused with Turrette Syndrome. During the time we tried to get this condition under control – until my son was old enough to learn how to control certain impulses – he was very uncomfortable with it, as he felt compelled to indulge certain mechanical actions repeatedly and was having difficulties at school because of it, both academically and socially.
Today, Michael no longer struggles with OCD. Time and therapy have worked their magic, and he is now in full control. The tics are gone, and the uncomfortable impulses toward achieving sheer perfection are a thing of the past.
Yet, that brief brush with OCD served a purpose in Michael’s life and, by extension, in the lives of the people close to him.
About a week ago, we were sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea after Michael got home from school, and we were talking about all the things that had happened in his day.
He told me about a new child who just came to the school, and said that he feels bad for him because the new kid is different and others make fun of him. I asked why he felt the child was different, and Michael said that he “makes strange noises and odd faces”. He spoke about the times he has seen this kid sitting alone and people whispering around, snickering, and related this situation to the time in his life when he felt embarrassed around friends who made fun of him because of his condition. But what truly opened my heart was when Michael sat there, cup of tea in hand and big, blue eyes opened wide to convey a stronger message, and said that he might not feel so bad about this if he hadn’t experienced being ridiculed himself because of something he could not help.
Michael’s condition taught him compassion, and opened his eyes to the fact that one has to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, sometimes, to truly understand how others feel.
He understood that it is very painful to be shunned and made fun of, and also realized that some things can be overcome.
Since that conversation, Michael and the new child have become friends, and I am sure that this friendship will teach good things to both of them in the long run.
When talking about his future, Michael has always said he would like to be a song writer, but he has now added a new idea. He mentioned that he would like to work in mental health care.
No matter what his future choices will be, I know he will be the best he can be at whatever he does.
And I know he will make a difference in someone’s life because, at a very young age, he found the key to the door of compassion.

Hidden Blessings

“Two angels were traveling the country, occasionally seeking food and shelter during their journey. They stopped at an opulent mansion, and asked if they could have shelter for the night. The owner let them in, and told them they could make a bed on the floor in the cold basement. As they prepared to turn in, the older Angel noticed a hole in the wall and repaired it. The next day they left the mansion and continued their journey. They came upon a very poor farm, and once again they asked for shelter. The farmer and his wife shared the little food they had, and offered their bed so the tired strangers could sleep comfortably. Early after the sun had risen, the two Angels were awakened by the farmer and his wife weeping. Their only cow, whose milk was their sole wealth, had died during the night. The younger Angel became angry, and asked the older spirit why he would help a rich man by fixing his wall but would let this poor man’s cow die. The older Angel replied: “Things aren’t always as they seem. When we were down in the basement, I saw gold hidden behind the wall, so I patched the hole to hide the fortune away from the greedy owner. Last night, while we were sleeping, I saw the Angel of Death coming for the farmer’s wife. I asked him to take the cow instead.”

When anything unpleasant occurs, it is always very difficult to see the hidden blessings.
The people whose alarms didn’t work - or whose cars broke down - the morning of 9/11, were probably very angry, and didn’t realize their fortune until they heard what happened.
Most often the hidden blessings are something that we will never even recognize for what they are. We may misplace our car keys and spend thirty minutes looking for them. Meanwhile, thanks to that delay we might have missed getting into a traffic accident.
We may be upset because we haven’t been hired for a job position we wanted; yet, if we had, we might have missed a better opportunity that was right around the corner.
As all gifts, blessings come in many packages. Some are very obvious and colorful, while some others are so subtle that we don't even recognize them for what they are.
Each moment in our lives is a perfect moment, whether we do or don’t realize its value. Through our experiences we grow, learn, become better people; for some, the most meaningful gifts have come from the difficult moments they have survived.
As we are reminded by the older Angel, things aren’t always as they seem. Even the worst tragedy may hold the seed of our greatest blessing.

The Gift of Now

In “Journey to Ixtlan", Carlos Castaneda writes about the Angel of Death as being always present near one’s left shoulder. If one turns fast enough, Castaneda writes, it is possible to catch a glimpse of the Angel, and remember to live every moment fully because it could be our last.
This past week, my friend Connie had a chance to come face to face with her own mortality. After becoming very ill because of an untreated kidney infection, she was taken to the hospital, and immediately admitted. For a few days, her doctors struggled to keep the infection under control, and her condition seemed to deteriorate by the minute.
Saying that Connie was terrified is a serious understatement. She knew her body was shutting down, and everything she had taken for granted was quickly spiraling out of control. Connie thought she was going to die.
When I spoke with her, the first words out of her mouth were about her children. She was afraid of how they would cope if something happened to her, and also realized how much she missed simply having them around. She talked of the times she got angry with them over trivial things, when she could have instead told them how much she loved them.
Having three children myself, I totally understand the frustrations of parenting. Yet, Connie’s ordeal seriously made me think.
What if something was to happen to me, and I wasn’t able to connect to all the people I love or respect before leaving this earthly plane? Would they know how much I care about them? If I was to die tomorrow, would it really matter that my three-year-old daughter flooded the bathroom today, or that my husband didn’t throw his dirty socks in the hamper this morning?
We spend such a large portion of our lives worrying about things that don’t matter, that we lose focus of what is truly important. We hold grudges against people we love over unimportant matters, and never think that we may not have another chance to make amends.
After talking to Connie, I thought about my own family, my children, my parents who live far away. I realized that many times I hang up the phone without telling my husband that I love him, I choose housework over going to the park with my children, I forget to call my parents and friends because I am too busy. I never think that those simple actions could be the last chance I have to let them know how I feel. If something suddenly happened to me – or them – those perfect opportunities would be lost forever.
We are programmed to allow life's circumstances to take over, to focus on making the next dollar as if it is the last chance we have to become rich, and we forget that it is up to us to appreciate each moment and the subtle blessings that surround us at all times. The dishes will still be there the next day, and the paperwork will be waiting for us when we get back, but will our loved ones be there tomorrow? Or even later today?
Each moment of our lives that is not fully appreciated is a moment we have wasted; it's a gift we have not accepted; it's an opportunity that may be lost forever.