Holy shit. She’s done it again.
I sat down to prepare for a sophomore conversation call, one in which a guide from the high school meets with my husband, myself and our soon-to-be a Junior son to reflect upon the first half of high school and make goals for the second half. I, of course, had my journal in one hand and a list of questions to contemplate in the other. My son, lounging in front of the TV, had his phone in one hand and a video game controller in the other. I sighed, let him be, and picked up my dinging phone alerting me that new grades had been posted. I don’t always click, but it being so close to the end of the semester and minutes before the reflection call, I did. It wasn’t the course grades that caught my attention, it was the “effort grades”.
B effort!
That lit me up. We’d been home for 8 weeks and school has pretty much been his only obligation! I immediately blasted out a text to him saying that I was feeling disgusted and that I’d prefer lower course grades and A effort to this average display of attention. I followed that up with a tattle call to my husband. It wasn’t until I was in the middle of texting a friend to ask if was I being/expecting too much that I snapped back into real time and space and admitted to myself that I had the answers within, and the yuckiness I was feeling and wanting to discharge was in direct relation to the real conflict at hand: the pressure I was putting on him was the same pressure I’ve been trying so desperately to shake off myself. I was literally planting the same voice in his head that I’ve been trying my damnedest to quiet.
Do more!
Do better!
Prove yourself!
I deleted the text and opened the zoom call. Our talented guide started our conversation with this poem-prayer by Henri Nouwen:
Many voices ask for our attention. There is a voice that says, “Prove that you are a good person.” Another voice says, “You’d better be ashamed of yourself.” There also is a voice that says, “Nobody really cares about you,” and one that says, “Be sure to become successful, popular, and powerful.” But underneath all these often very noisy voices is a still, small voice that says, “You are my Beloved, my favor rests on you.” That’s the voice we need most of all to hear. To hear that voice, however, requires special effort; it requires solitude, silence, and a strong determination to listen.
I really appreciate when the universe puts me in my place so quickly and decisively with her magic ways. (I hear you!) And I recommit myself to solitude, silence and a strong determination to listen — to both gentle and not-so-gentle reminders (this one was gentle, thank you) and to my kids when I pause long enough to ask them questions of the “are you okay with this feedback?” sort.