The Everyday Human

July: On Family

July 29

Anytime you learn something new (and I hope you’re always trying to learn something new), you’re bound to make mistakes. I try to teach this lesson to my daughter every day. She likes to get things right and can be hard on herself when she doesn’t nail it right away. But it’s also a lesson for me as a parent. This is something brand new for me, and each day brings new challenges—some of which I anticipate, and some I never see coming. I’m bound to mess up here and there. It’s natural. It’s human. Especially when it comes to family. And if you’re not a parent, you can apply this same idea to any relationship—those with your own parents, siblings, cousins, friends, colleagues, whoever.

So try your best. Enjoy your wins. Acknowledge and learn from your mistakes. 

You just have to want it, but more than that, work toward getting it right more than you get it wrong. And be okay with not knowing and making plenty of mistakes along the way.

• Reflection title: It’s Okay To Not Know
• Creative inspiration:  Robin Hobb, Fool's Assassin
• Reflection question: Can I admit I don’t always know what I’m doing when it comes to being a parent, son or daughter, or sibling? Am I still trying to learn while maintaining humility?

July: On Family

July 28

You’ll get these results, or hear these stories and they’ll hit you with the shock that comes with learning that what you believed to be true was, in fact, a lie. And it’s not just the facts that shake you—it’s the feeling of being lost, of not knowing who you are, or where you came from, or who your loved ones really are. As the days pass, you’ll have question upon question, all piling up a mile high, like letters to god. And maybe you’re trying, maybe you’re waiting for answers—why did it happen this way? What does it mean? What does it change?

The truth is, you might get some answers as you search, but chances are, you won’t—at least not all of the answers you seek. Can things like this change a relationship? Can they change the love that exists or existed within a family? Change the past experiences of joy and sorrow and pleasure and pain? Again—it could. If you let it. Like much in life, it’s out of your control. All you can do is decide what you’ll do with the information and choose how to live your life moving forward.

But I tend to think that it’s just a piece of that beautiful and messy map. But now, it’s your turn to chart. It’s your uncharted territory to explore.

And it might be that while you’re navigating the fog-covered waters of the map of your family that you feel lost and like you’ll never find land, but maybe you’re simply somewhere new . . . maybe you’re at a new beginning in the unending and grand story of things.

• Reflection title: The Unending Story
• Creative inspiration:  Angels & Airwaves, "Letters to God Pt. II"
• Reflection question: How have I reacted to truths that turned out to be lies? Am I seeking answers that will never come in regards to my family? How will I choose to live moving forward?

July: On Family

July 27

The day inevitably comes when you find your mother or father or parental figure crying at the kitchen table after learning their mother has passed. Or when they mutter the words, “I don’t know what we’re gonna do,” when watching the bills rack up higher and higher with no way out. And on that day, you'll learn that they’re just human: delicate and vulnerable patchworks of hopes and fears and dreams and love.

So whatever stage you’re at in life, and whatever relationship you have with your parents, whether they’re still here or not, try and spare a little grace for the fact that they are, in fact, just like us.

• Reflection title: They Shop at Bodegas! They Lace Up Their Shoes!
• Creative inspiration:  Paul Auster, 4 3 2 1
• Reflection question: Am I showing grace for my parents (or parental figures), understanding they are human, too, carrying all of the complexities that come with it?

July: On Family

July 26

Your family, your closest friends—those who you should have the most patience for. It’s always easiest to hurt the ones you love. 

Maybe because you know they love you back and you take it for granted that they’re there and in your life in the first place and you just expect them to be there every day for the rest of it. Unfortunately, that’s not always the case. You can push them too far, just as they can push you—it happens all the time—to the point of breaking. To the point where someone has just plain old had enough and says it’s time to move on.

But if that love is real, and you know when it is, you have to do everything in your power to practice patience, to uncover the truth of why you’re acting the way you are, or help them figure it out for themselves just the same. Keeping up those levels of empathy isn’t always easy, but these are your people. You need them, and they need you.

Attention must be paid. 

• Reflection title: Be There for Them
• Creative inspiration:  Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman
• Reflection question: Who in my close circle of family and friends do I find myself losing patience with? Am I there for them like they’d be there for me?

July: On Family

July 25

While some parents might speak with that voice and impart the wisdom and benevolence of the gods, let’s not forget that the cycle is not just that of good . . . but also of evil. And since humans are flawed, and some are fated or choose to carry out evil deeds, they will impart not some holy wisdom and righteousness, but instead a kind of profane ignorance and malevolence. And even if that is the case for some poor child being raised in such an environment—and the sad truth is that this happens—it does not mean that the child must or will carry that dark torch forward into the future. They can escape it by a will of their own and with the help of others. 

 So as a parent or model figure in a child’s life, you must remember and be wary of the sheer power your voice carries. 

What you do and say will carry great weight in the cycle, so make the choice: what will you pass down to the future generations? 

Because your words, your voice—the voice of the gods—can quickly become the voice of the devils.

• Reflection title: Voice of the Gods, Voice of the Devils 
• Creative inspiration:  Lewis Theobald, Double Falsehood; or, The Distrest Lovers
• Reflection question: Do I understand the power of my voice and actions? What will I choose to impart to be carried on to future generations?

July: On Family

July 24

Instead of confronting family skeletons or secrets, do you try to stuff them down? Keep the secret(s) safe and bury that skeleton in the sump behind the house in the woods? I think you know the outcome of this option. That thing will stick its rotting, maggot-eaten hands and head through the dirt, dragging itself back out into the light and the open air for all to see and try to take you down with it.

Or do you turn that tragedy into a joke? It doesn’t have to be a haha so funny joke—because, rarely, are any of the skeletons actually funny. No, what we’re talking about here is taking that skeleton and looking it dead in its dead eyes and saying, “I know what you are. I know what you did. I know you’re family—my family—and I can’t escape you, but I’m not trying to anymore. Instead, I’m learning from you—I’m learning what I will never do, and will never become, so thank you very much for teaching that. Now, did you hear about the time the rabbi, priest, and the writer walked into a bar . . . ?” 

You smile, you don’t deny it—you ask it to dinner and ask it to dance and say, “Look here, everyone! This is our family skeleton!” You let it know that you know. Then, perhaps, you can laugh at it, at yourself, and at the absurdity of it all and of an imperfect family—and move on.

• Reflection title: Family Tragedy or Family Joke
• Creative inspiration:  George Bernard Shaw, Immaturity (or source unknown/uncertain)
• Reflection question: What family skeletons have I tried to bury? Is it time I dig them up and face—and laugh at—them?

July: On Family

July 23

Though Madeleine L'Engle wrote the passage that inspired today's reflection 53 years ago, it seems like it could have been written today. You can find the parallels yourself. Trust me, you don’t have to dig too deep. But while the evils of the past find new clothes to wear in the present, something else that rang true then still does today: we must find a way to push forward through the growing seriousness, cynicism, and alienation that’s all too easy to find as an adult, and remember to laugh. We must also remember that children are the future—they carry the fire, they are the hope-bearers. And as adults, we must remember that, at all costs, it is up to us to protect them, teach them to protect themselves, but also to let them teach us what it is to laugh again. 

Is that the cure for this world and its craziness? I’m not sure. But it certainly will keep us going—if only generation after generation, until we eventually find it.

So whatever you do—look at me—don’t laugh. 

• Reflection title: A Little Thank You Goes a Long Way
• Creative inspiration:  Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet
• Reflection question: Am I teaching the younger generation how to balance seriousness and lightness? Am I practicing this myself?

July: On Family

July 22

While you’re raising and shaping your children, they’re raising something in you, too. The mirror they hold up to you is reflecting and revealing—it’s guiding you and reshaping you. Their honesty is funny, but it can also be brutal, casting a light on flaws or habits you may have tried to bury back in the shadows, forcing you to confront them and move beyond them.

It’s a beautiful yet dangerous thing. For every story of a parent who was transformed into a better version of themselves, there's another about someone broken by the same effort. 

It’s difficult. 

It’s the most difficult thing.

So for now, if you’re a parent, and if no one else is thanking you for all of your hard work, I just want to say thank you. And if you’re not a parent, consider throwing a thank you out there to yours. And if you don’t have the best relationship with your parents, consider thanking them for trying—because nobody’s perfect—or at the very least, for bringing you into this world and giving you a chance at this wacky and wonderful thing called life.*

*If you don’t speak with your parents, or if they’re not here anymore, you can still thank them in your head, your heart, and mind. It might do you more good than it does them. You never know.

• Reflection title: A Little Thank You Goes a Long Way
• Creative inspiration:  Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
• Reflection question: When was the last time I thanked a parent in my life—or myself—for taking on the hardest job in the world?

July: On Family

July 21

The important thing here, I think—and yes, it’s complicated (but what isn’t in this thing we call life?)—is that we must teach our children, the next generation, that actions have consequences. Great, we can all get on board with that. We don’t want the world falling into further chaos. But more than that, while imparting this timeless knowledge, we must remember two things:

1. Don’t just say it. Teach them through your actions. And your thought process. Think out loud with them when making decisions. Show them how to assess pros and cons. Teach them how to anticipate how their actions will not only impact them positively or negatively, but also others. 

2. This isn’t a zero-sum game. We don’t want them to choose the “right” thing just because they might get caught and punished for choosing the “wrong” thing. We want them to weave their own moral fabric, to draw their own map in life that leads them to the treasure of virtuous action. We want them to choose the right thing because that’s the right thing to do.

We all know someone who believes their actions don’t have consequences—or who doesn’t give a shit about the ripple effect of their decisions as long as they’re still the ones benefitting. Too many of those people in the world. Too many in power. Let’s teach the young to slow down, think carefully, and consider their next move while considering others.

• Reflection title: Natural Consequences
• Creative inspiration:  Eastin DeVerna, Lux: From the Kingdom of Darkness
• Reflection question: Do I consider the consequences of my own actions? What’s my thought process, and how am I teaching the next generation how to act?

July: On Family

July 20

As I did my daily check this morning with my coffee (Gardener’s Handbook, Rule #3: A gardener must always inspect their plants in the morning with coffee, even at the risk of midges diving in for a sip), I couldn’t quite believe the lettuce had grown so quickly. Maybe it’s the hot North Carolina summers. Maybe it was a good batch of soil from Brawley Seed Co. & Garden Center. Or maybe it’s just that Time has a way of deceiving us—that it brings us slow moments daily while working, cooking, or sitting in traffic, but then it bundles those moments like bales of straw into days, week, months, and years that will eventually dry out and turn gray and brown—and before we know it, the lettuce will have grown and been eaten, children will no longer have time for stories at night or watercolors in the morning, parents and partners will grow slow and old, and grandparents will bid their final farewell.

So it’s time to follow Rule #1: Slow down. Watch the seeds sprout and grow and notice it all, because before you know it, it’ll be harvest time.

• Reflection title: A Gardener’s Handbook, Coming Soon
• Creative inspiration:  David Von Drehle, The Book of Charlie
• Reflection question: Am I slowing down and enjoying the quiet, everyday moments with my family? Where am I going too fast, and what am I missing?