| Learning to be Driven |
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Now it is Mo’s turn. Her 16th birthday has arrived, and with it the slip of paper that spells “freedom” — or at least, freedom-in-training. My daughter has her learner’s permit. It’s time for me to get into the car on the passenger side. Oh, I can show her the windshield wipers, point out the emergency flashers, and set her on the road, but the keys are in Maureen’s hand, now. And she’s taken to it very quickly. In no time at all, she will be venturing out, beyond the neighborhood, onto expressways, snaking through rush hour city traffic, tearing across the country on insane late night whirlwind adventures, ignoring posted speed limits, failing to yield, tailgating, drag racing… Excuse me. I got carried away there. Actually, I have no doubt that Mo will soon be an excellent driver, skillful, law abiding, and responsible. While I have the usual safety concerns, in all reality I know that Maureen will be a much better driver than her mother. The problem is not Mo learning to drive. It’s me learning to be driven. Those of you who know me well (and I would venture to say those of you who have spent more than, oh, 5 minutes in my company) know that I have a teensy little problem with control. Every once in awhile I let something go, and let others have their sway. Amazingly, even after the positive results are clear, I still don’t seem to learn. The project is finished, the cake is properly baked, the class is beautifully taught, the room is perfectly cleaned — even without my being there to micromanage every aspect of it! Wow. How can that possibly be? I will confess that hearing people say “How can you do as much as you do every day?” is music to my ears. “Oh, my, yes,” my prideful self chortles silently, shaking my head in amusement, “I do seem to be almost superhuman, don’t I?” Well, the truth is, I deserve no credit for my energy level. And while I seem to keep quite a few plates in the air, I drop more than I’d ever let you know. Hard work is a good thing. Addiction to an image of being the hardest worker, is not. Learning to let go of the reins, to hand over the car keys, is more than a lesson in humility. It is a gift to those wonderfully competent others I’ve been shortchanging every time I insist on control. Observing our human family, we can see those who struggle with helplessness, who fear taking charge of anything. For them, life’s journey often takes them to the scary but amazing place where they have to learn just how much they can do, and how much they are needed. For others of us, the road leads to an equally scary, equally amazing place. In this place, it is all right to let things go sometimes. In this place, who we are is not measured by our leadership skills. In this place, we learn how to gracefully, and gratefully, receive. I’m not there yet, but hopefully I’m getting closer. And I am learning to be glad to have my daughter as my driver. This Christmas season, may God bless all of your journeys, both behind the wheel and in the passenger seat. |
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