The Prophet by Khalil Gibran
"Let there be spaces in your togetherness. And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love. Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each of you be alone. Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together, yet not too near together. For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."
What an amazing statement is the above quote from Khalil Gibran. Gibran never married yet he believed strongly in women. He was an outspoken critic of what he saw as prejudice and suffering, and he received death threats. His books were burned in Beirut, and he lived in poverty in Boston. He understood that to be truly together, it was necessary to be strong within one's self and to understand one's self as being of a divine nature. He understood individuation as put forth by Jung. “One cannot individuate as long as one is playing a role to oneself; the convictions one has about oneself are the most subtle form of persona and the most subtle obstacle against any true individuation. One can admit practically anything, yet somewhere one retains the idea that one is nevertheless so-and-so, and this is always a sort of final argument which counts apparently as a plus; yet it functions as an influence against true individuation." (Carl Jung)
When an artist creates, he is placing a piece of himself in physical form for the world to see. He is extending himself and allowing the external world a glimpse of his soul, his creativity, his heart. I know when I create in my writing, this is what I am doing. I am becoming vulnerable to the world and allowing the world to see me. It is a scary process, as it places me in a position to be judged and to receive comments, both good and bad. In order to do this, I must be strong within myself and allow myself to embrace myself fully and without reservation. To be an effective artist, I must love myself and who I am. I must be secure in this knowledge.
It is the same with parenting. The child is the creative effort of two souls who have come together and have a child…whether the child is adopted or biological. It can also extend to relationships that we, as adults, have with children in schools and our neighborhoods, but especially so within the family. The child is the creative expression of who we are as humans. It is the creative expression of all of us, whether we are related directly or not. This child is an expression of our love for each other and for humanity.
There is a law of physics that says "for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." What I give to my child, it gives back to me. If I give my child anger for being born, hatred because it is in my way… then what comes back? BUT if, when I look at my child, I see an amazing, beautiful creature to whom I will provide guidance and assistance, one with whom I intend to create a beautiful canvas that is his/her life, then what do you think will be received in return? I did not say there would not be problems and issues. But because we realize love, we can work through issues together and we can achieve healthy and loving outcomes. Through loving in this way, we grow in strength and ability to face our world. Our memories provide us with sustenance and courage to face the unknown and to do it well.
I think back on my own memories, and I remember a brother who lifted me high into the air to ride on his shoulders. Oh, how tall and wonderful I felt. He was my big brother, and he would take me for rides on his bike. I remember a mother who loved to bake and cook, and I watched her create masterpieces of Lebanese cooking. And I am here to tell you, her cookies, her bread, her food were masterpieces, and I still miss them. When we have such precious gifts, we tend to think we will have them forever. She continues to cook forever, in my mind. I also remember my sister, who protected me and encouraged me to have my own thoughts and value them. She could not do it for herself, but she gave me this precious gift. And my father, who gave me the gift of being treated with love and respect. He spoke with me and spent time talking to me and listening to my opinion. To do this, my father crossed a cultural barrier that preferred women be seen and not heard. He loved to listen to me, and I know it is his precious gift.
I know there were issues in my family, and I will talk about them from time to time. But I am who I am because of the canvas upon which they painted with me. My mother was married at 15 and my father was 35. Yet I remember a conversation when a man came to the house to inquire about marrying me. I was 15, and I remember hearing my father say, "This is a new world; times are different. She is too young and has not had time to live her life." My dad gave me the most precious gift ever: the gift of being able to make my own life choices and to learn from them. This was a gift reserved primarily for males in his culture. His sister desperately wanted to be a doctor, but she was not allowed, nor was she permitted to marry. My father gave me this precious gift, but little did he understand the costs of doing so. If he could have seen the future, he may have taken that gift back, seeking to keep me from experiencing the pain ahead. But then I would not have experienced the joy to come. In order for the light to know itself, it must experience the dark and come to love both. This is the gift we all give to the children as we give them the courage to select the colors and to paint the canvas of their creation.