Posts tagged ‘maturity’

December 3, 2014

Let go of the pen in your hand

Thought for the day, courtesy of writer Mary Beth Danielson:

If growing up is the process of creating ideas and dreams about what life should be, then maturity is letting go again.

Life doesn’t follow any set script. Loose your grip on the pen in your hand — the pen that’s trying to write a storyline for the days and years ahead of you. Let that pen fall to the ground. Let it stay there. Free yourself from the bounds of any set destination. Allow life to come to you as it will.

Sometimes the act of letting go is actually the act of welcoming in.

September 27, 2013

Book Recommendation — “Have Mother, Will Travel” by Claire and Mia Fontaine

It’s a book for women of all kinds, but it’s especially a book for mothers and daughters seeking insight into their own relationships. In Have Mother, Will Travel, mother-daughter (and author) duo Claire and Mia Fontaine embark on a four-month journey around the world together. The ultimate goal of their trip is to revive their flagging relationship, but along the way, 51-year-old Claire and 25-year-old Mia gain fresh insight into their own life journeys, as well as new appreciation for what they each have to offer — to themselves, to each other and to the world. Well-written, funny and very reflective, this book is definitely worth picking up!


“Have Mother, Will Travel: A Mother and Daughter Discover Themselves, Each Other, and the World” by Claire and Mia Fontaine

Here are a few of my favourite quotes from the book:

I’ve become very clear that finding my way forward in life isn’t going to come from figuring out what I want to do, but by staying grounded in the person doing the wanting. The very core of my being, my essential, authentic, whatever-you-call-it self, never has any trouble knowing what she wants, and certainly never worries about how she’s going to get it. (Claire Fontaine)

Sometimes I wonder if we make big moves because we underestimate the importance of smaller ones. Years are just an accumulation of thousands of hours, and what we choose to do with each of them matters. (Mia Fontaine)

Adulthood isn’t a destination, it’s a process, and, as women, we are always coming of age. (Mia Fontaine)

There are some advantages to stumbling around lost for a while. It allows for discovery. (Claire Fontaine)

Change happens in the small moments, when a sliver of light finds its way through the cracks. (Claire Fontaine)

All relationships happen in stages, with varying depths, multiple layers. You invariably reach a point where you hit the ceiling of a certain level of intimacy and then have the option of staying there — which risks the relationship becoming predictable or stale — or you can take it to the next level. (Mia Fontaine)

November 15, 2012

The evanescence of childhood

I love this passage from the short story “Quality Time” by Barbara Kingsolver in her collection Homeland.  The passage comes after Miriam, a single mother, has just answered a string of questions about death from her five-year-old daughter Rennie as they drive home from day care.  Rennie has ruminatively decided that she would rather live with her aunt than her father if something were to happen to Miriam, and Miriam has looped around the block a few times in order to let the conversation run its course.  Now the subject turns to dinner.  Rennie wants pot pies — even after her mother suggests a stop at Ice Cream Heaven — and declares that, yes, she’ll be able to wait the half hour for dinner to cook in the oven once they get home.

In the overtones of her voice and the way she pushes her blond hair over her shoulder there is a startling maturity, and Miriam is frozen for a moment with a vision of a much older Rennie.  All the different Rennies — the teenager, the adult — are already contained in her hands and her voice, her confidence.  From moments like these, parents can find the courage to believe in the resilience of their children’s lives.  They will barrel forward like engines, armoured by their own momentum, more indestructible than love.

To me, this passage captures the fleetingness of both childhood and parenthood.  It also catches that moment in a parent’s life when you realize that, no matter what you do, your child is a person unto him- or herself.  One day, you will have to simply step back, let go, and stand on the riverbank as the current of who your child is flows by you, cutting its own special course through the unseen landscapes ahead.