On the uses of being strong; by Cai Walker, age 7
My 7-year old son Cai and I were talking about the difference between men and women's bodies earlier today.
A little while ago Syd, the baby girl, saw a picture in my art history book of a classical Roman statue (naked man) and asked, pointing at the genitals, "What's that?"
I explained to her, and to Cai who had wandered over, what that was and pointed out how beautiful the human figure is, flipping pages and showing them all different male and female statues. We used to be quite the naked family, when all the babies were young and we lived in Florida, throwing boy and girl babies in together with whatever parent happened to be in the shower at a convenient time and of course all changing into and out of bathingsuits all the time. But once my eldest son got into the pre-teen years and ch4rm and I separated (but lived in the same house) it has been most convenient to throw the boys together and the girls together in separate showers and I travel back and forth between them, washing hair and checking behind ears. The baby doesn't remember showering with her father at all, and we don't all change together anymore, so on accident she's been sheltered from all but the basic knowledge that boys and girls are 'different'. The effect of this new knowledge of anatomy has been lots of good conversations and a flurry of questions from the two youngest kids.
But being children, after the initial information has been stored they are nonplussed about it - not being religious, they understand modesty and discretion but have no connection to any sort of shame. This leads to awesome matter-of-fact conversations like the one Cai and I had today.
I was cradling Cai on my lap, his feet puled up to his chest: he is much to big to be held like a baby, my solid and tall Cai, but he loves it so I will not stop trying. We were talking about how men and women have a lot of the same parts, though it looks different sometimes.
"Like arms, Cai," I said, holding my arm up and flexing, "see how I have a muscle there, and you do too? But it's not big like daddy's, is it?"
"No mommers. Daddy's is bigger, like... strong."
"Right! Men sometimes like to get strong and big, bigger than ladies, mostly. Of course," I said, thinking of many men I know, "sometimes men like to be tall and thin, too. You can choose whatever you want, Cai."
He nodded, staring off in space, likely thinking of the men he knows. Too few, I noted silently in the parenting part of my mind: Cai needs more good strong men in his life.
I know my little guy and I can see how he's growing: bigger in stature than his father, and more like my dad. And as his mom I think I know what sort of man he wants to be, so I couldn't help adding, "But I hope you can be strong someday, Cai - I think you would be happy to have big muscles and a strong body to do powerful things. Would you like that?"
"Oh yes mom I will be," he said matter-of-factly, "I will be strong so I can defend for Good."
It was one of those transcendent moments where I get a glimpse of a child's character, soul and future. It's usually linked like this: the future of a child is a magnification of present qualities; the destiny of their soul is what they have inside themselves already, only expanded. This realization of their future is never something that surprises me, but the quality I glimpse is much bigger than I have recognized before in them. Accompanying my brief flashes of vision for my children is a dizzy feeling in my head; it's like a resonant gong strikes and the universe hums for a moment in sympathetic vibration. St. Theresa would know just how I feel, I suspect. It's hubris to think I can experience visions of my children, I know, but we will see. Though I don't know how these qualities I think of as 'part of their destiny' will express themselves, I watch for it from then on.
Cai lay in my arms, looking calmly into my shining eyes and waiting for me to come back to him.
"Very good, my little guy," I said, smiling down at his answering gap-toothed grin. But then I thought of what a life of Defending for Good might entail, and introduced a concept that might be important for him by adding, "and will you defend me for Good? I will not be as strong as you, not in that way."
"Oh yes, mommers!" He said enthusiastically.
"OK! You can defend with your strength, and I can... I can talk to defend for good, then; convince people if I need to. And Auntie," I added, looking over at the table where Courtney was eating snack, "Courtney can ...game, to defend for Good?"
"I can challenge, to defend for Good!" Courtney corrected triumphantly.
Of such little moments as this are a mother's day made up of. This and tickle fights and making scrambled eggs and doing laundry: the running of lives and also the shaping of them, perhaps. Trying to educate myself to earn a good and happy living on my own I am often too busy, now, to take such time as I'd like to with each child. I trust they will come to their own somehow, relying on all the people in their lives to help bring this about, these days. I feel privileged when it's me, though, who glimpses such destiny.
Of course the situation of 'defending for Good' has been on my mind all day and I have been thinking of each of my loved ones in the context of it. This same question stands before you: would you wish to defend for Good? And how would you, given your own strengths?
A little while ago Syd, the baby girl, saw a picture in my art history book of a classical Roman statue (naked man) and asked, pointing at the genitals, "What's that?"
I explained to her, and to Cai who had wandered over, what that was and pointed out how beautiful the human figure is, flipping pages and showing them all different male and female statues. We used to be quite the naked family, when all the babies were young and we lived in Florida, throwing boy and girl babies in together with whatever parent happened to be in the shower at a convenient time and of course all changing into and out of bathingsuits all the time. But once my eldest son got into the pre-teen years and ch4rm and I separated (but lived in the same house) it has been most convenient to throw the boys together and the girls together in separate showers and I travel back and forth between them, washing hair and checking behind ears. The baby doesn't remember showering with her father at all, and we don't all change together anymore, so on accident she's been sheltered from all but the basic knowledge that boys and girls are 'different'. The effect of this new knowledge of anatomy has been lots of good conversations and a flurry of questions from the two youngest kids.
But being children, after the initial information has been stored they are nonplussed about it - not being religious, they understand modesty and discretion but have no connection to any sort of shame. This leads to awesome matter-of-fact conversations like the one Cai and I had today.
I was cradling Cai on my lap, his feet puled up to his chest: he is much to big to be held like a baby, my solid and tall Cai, but he loves it so I will not stop trying. We were talking about how men and women have a lot of the same parts, though it looks different sometimes.
"Like arms, Cai," I said, holding my arm up and flexing, "see how I have a muscle there, and you do too? But it's not big like daddy's, is it?"
"No mommers. Daddy's is bigger, like... strong."
"Right! Men sometimes like to get strong and big, bigger than ladies, mostly. Of course," I said, thinking of many men I know, "sometimes men like to be tall and thin, too. You can choose whatever you want, Cai."
He nodded, staring off in space, likely thinking of the men he knows. Too few, I noted silently in the parenting part of my mind: Cai needs more good strong men in his life.
I know my little guy and I can see how he's growing: bigger in stature than his father, and more like my dad. And as his mom I think I know what sort of man he wants to be, so I couldn't help adding, "But I hope you can be strong someday, Cai - I think you would be happy to have big muscles and a strong body to do powerful things. Would you like that?"
"Oh yes mom I will be," he said matter-of-factly, "I will be strong so I can defend for Good."
It was one of those transcendent moments where I get a glimpse of a child's character, soul and future. It's usually linked like this: the future of a child is a magnification of present qualities; the destiny of their soul is what they have inside themselves already, only expanded. This realization of their future is never something that surprises me, but the quality I glimpse is much bigger than I have recognized before in them. Accompanying my brief flashes of vision for my children is a dizzy feeling in my head; it's like a resonant gong strikes and the universe hums for a moment in sympathetic vibration. St. Theresa would know just how I feel, I suspect. It's hubris to think I can experience visions of my children, I know, but we will see. Though I don't know how these qualities I think of as 'part of their destiny' will express themselves, I watch for it from then on.
Cai lay in my arms, looking calmly into my shining eyes and waiting for me to come back to him.
"Very good, my little guy," I said, smiling down at his answering gap-toothed grin. But then I thought of what a life of Defending for Good might entail, and introduced a concept that might be important for him by adding, "and will you defend me for Good? I will not be as strong as you, not in that way."
"Oh yes, mommers!" He said enthusiastically.
"OK! You can defend with your strength, and I can... I can talk to defend for good, then; convince people if I need to. And Auntie," I added, looking over at the table where Courtney was eating snack, "Courtney can ...game, to defend for Good?"
"I can challenge, to defend for Good!" Courtney corrected triumphantly.
Of such little moments as this are a mother's day made up of. This and tickle fights and making scrambled eggs and doing laundry: the running of lives and also the shaping of them, perhaps. Trying to educate myself to earn a good and happy living on my own I am often too busy, now, to take such time as I'd like to with each child. I trust they will come to their own somehow, relying on all the people in their lives to help bring this about, these days. I feel privileged when it's me, though, who glimpses such destiny.
Of course the situation of 'defending for Good' has been on my mind all day and I have been thinking of each of my loved ones in the context of it. This same question stands before you: would you wish to defend for Good? And how would you, given your own strengths?