Brick Walls

I read a lot. And when I read, I make connections to many different parts of my life.
When I read for pleasure, I sometimes align myself so deeply with the hero or heroine that it is almost hard to say goodbye to the characters when I get to the last page. I feel compassion for their struggles, as well as joy in their successes, as though it was actually something that was happening to me.
When I read for teaching, the ability to focus on the theories and practices can sometimes blur on the page. But, there are times when I feel the excitement of finding that one strategy that will help the little boy in my class who just can't get it. I find a problem to solve that I can't wait to share with my class, to see the "aha" moment of discovering the solution. (See if you can figure this one out- my grade 2/3 class could: You can't hold it. It weighs nothing. You can see it. When you put it in a can, the can weighs less. What is it?)
And when I read for self-discovery, for personal growth, I get to experience my own "aha" moments, and I apply them to my life. They aren't always successful. The changes that I make aren't always well-received by the people closest to me. But, the impact that some of these ideas have had on my life makes the unbalanced chaos that the people around me might see and feel, worthwhile.

In my last post, I described how I had been struggling with writer's block the past few weeks. Ironically, there were many other brick walls that I was faced with during the same time frame which were frustrating and, at times, zapped the energy out of me. This analogy of the brick wall was something that I first read about in the book "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. Terminally ill with pancreatic cancer, his book was a tribute to the last lecture that he made- a lecture about achieving our childhood dreams. One theme that repeated itself throughout his writing, was the idea that we are all presented with obstacles or "brick walls" on our quest to achieve our childhood dreams. But, these walls aren't there to make the acquisition of our dreams impossible, or to let ourselves believe that the dream is so out of our reach that we should just give up. Instead, "Brick walls are there for a reason. They give us a chance to show how badly we want something." (p. 79, Pausch). "The brick walls are there to stop the people who don't want it badly enough. They're there to stop the other people." (p.73, Pausch).

One of my dreams, or perhaps three of my dreams, has been to first nurture, then guide my children to be responsible, to be kind and compassionate, and to be happy and at peace with the choices that they make. There are many days as a mother that I feel as though I am sliding down the brick wall, back into a pit of mud at the base of it. Can that look of annoyance, of pure negative attitude really be directed at me? Can those angry words being thrown at me truly be what my child thinks, how my child feels? Not only have I slid down the wall on days such as these, but I am buried in that thick oozing mud up to my waist trying to find a desperate handhold on the wall in front of me, trying to pull myself up and out. How do I get out? How do I start the climb up that wall again? I remember what the dream is. I remember that the brick walls of parenting are there for a reason. Some days it is easy. There are days that are filled with laughing, teasing; days filled with pride in each other. These are days that I feel as though I am almost over the wall. But, then the other days- the days of anger, the days of being scared- suddenly creep back in again. But, I know how badly I want the dream. I remember that I want my children to be caring, responsible, and happy. I know that I want that dream for my children more than anyone else does, and that makes the brick wall surmountable.