Learning hard lessons

I am reminded that learning is not just about books and academic subjects -- Life itself is a constant lesson and, unfortunately often Life lessons are painful.  For me, perhaps the hardest part of being a mother is watching/re-experiencing those painful lessons as my children encounter them. It would be so nice to hold out my own learning and say 'Here, take this, it won't hurt as much.' But, of course, that is not the way that Life lessons are learned. The best I can do, as a parent, as a person, is to be there, to hold a hand, to wipe away tears, to offer loving arms while my child learns.  Knowing that does not make any of it easier. I wish something did.

One thing I have learned as I have grown older is that compassion for others is an under-appreciated, rarely offered gift. People generally find it easier to offer judgment than compassion. The first has the advantage of placing the Judger in a position of power, authority and immunity from pain. The latter requires empathy, an understanding and recognition of the other person's essential humanity. 'Walk a mile in my moccasins' is not a popular past time. Too painful, too scary.  But it seems to me that if this world and the human race are to survive, we really MUST step into those other shoes. We cannot allow ourselves to be anesthetized to the pain of those around us. It is very human to try to avoid pain but to hide from the pain of others, is to hide from others and that is not living.

That said, as a mother, I wish I could ease the pain my children experience.  Sometimes I fear for my sons: both are extremely empathetic and they absorb the pain of those around them to an alarming degree. Both want so desperately to heal the injuries of the world but they lack, as yet, the experience and wisdom to know what they can do and what they cannot.  And, of course, pain untreated can turn into rage -- rage at the helplessness they feel, rage at the source of the pain. Another lesson, then: Anger is the path to the dark side.  In truth, I think that that may have been the most powerful moment in the Star Wars series, when Anakin, mad with grief, seeks out and destroys all the Sand People, the people who tortured and killed his mother.  When he wakes from his grief induced madness, he wakes in horror at what he has done. That moment is crystalline. It has mostly been ignored by the watchers of the film. Most concentrate on Anakin's conversion to Darth Vader and enjoy the wild ride... but the lesson is there, just as it is in 'Frankenstein'. Both Victor F. and Anakin want to save and protect. Both are driven by a sense of grief and rage at what they perceive as their weakness and failures. Both seek Power, hoping to use it well. But Gandalf the Grey recognized what they did not: Power tempts.  There is that moment, in the first book of the Ring Cycle where Frodo offers Gandalf the ring:

Frodo: Take it!
Gandalf: No, Frodo.
Frodo: You must take it!
Gandalf: You cannot offer me this ring!
Frodo: I'm giving it to you!
Gandalf: Don't... tempt me Frodo! I dare not take it. Not even to keep it safe. Understand, Frodo. I would use this ring from a desire to do good... But through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.

Gandalf's wisdom is resisting the temptation of power is something we all need to practice. Too many times, when we are given that power over another, we uses it abusively -- all the while thinking that we are doing it for the well being of the one we control. But how is a parent to know when to step back, to let his/her child stumble and fall and get scraped and bruised, to allow them to rage and cry and recover all on their own? That is the issue I struggle with -- fighting to find a balance between protectiveness and doing harm by stopping my child's growth. Ah well, perhaps I shall re-read The Hobbit: 70th Anniversary Edition and The Lord of the Rings: 50th Anniversary, One Vol. Edition and get their take on the subject. Grin. They always provide me with unusual perspectives...