July: On Family

July 22

While you’re raising and shaping your children, they’re raising something in you, too. The mirror they hold up to you is reflecting and revealing—it’s guiding you and reshaping you. Their honesty is funny, but it can also be brutal, casting a light on flaws or habits you may have tried to bury back in the shadows, forcing you to confront them and move beyond them.

It’s a beautiful yet dangerous thing. For every story of a parent who was transformed into a better version of themselves, there's another about someone broken by the same effort.

It’s difficult.

It’s the most difficult thing.

So for now, if you’re a parent, and if no one else is thanking you for all of your hard work, I just want to say thank you. And if you’re not a parent, consider throwing a thank you out there to yours. And if you don’t have the best relationship with your parents, consider thanking them for trying—because nobody’s perfect—or at the very least, for bringing you into this world and giving you a chance at this wacky and wonderful thing called life.*

*If you don’t speak with your parents, or if they’re not here anymore, you can still thank them in your head, your heart, and mind. It might do you more good than it does them. You never know.

• Reflection title: A Little Thank You Goes a Long Way
• Creative inspiration: Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
• Reflection question: When was the last time I thanked a parent in my life—or myself—for taking on the hardest job in the world?

July: On Family

July 21

The important thing here, I think—and yes, it’s complicated (but what isn’t in this thing we call life?)—is that we must teach our children, the next generation, that actions have consequences. Great, we can all get on board with that. We don’t want the world falling into further chaos. But more than that, while imparting this timeless knowledge, we must remember two things:

1. Don’t just say it. Teach them through your actions. And your thought process. Think out loud with them when making decisions. Show them how to assess pros and cons. Teach them how to anticipate how their actions will not only impact them positively or negatively, but also others.

2. This isn’t a zero-sum game. We don’t want them to choose the “right” thing just because they might get caught and punished for choosing the “wrong” thing. We want them to weave their own moral fabric, to draw their own map in life that leads them to the treasure of virtuous action. We want them to choose the right thing because that’s the right thing to do.

We all know someone who believes their actions don’t have consequences—or who doesn’t give a shit about the ripple effect of their decisions as long as they’re still the ones benefitting. Too many of those people in the world. Too many in power. Let’s teach the young to slow down, think carefully, and consider their next move while considering others.

• Reflection title: Natural Consequences
• Creative inspiration: Eastin DeVerna, Lux: From the Kingdom of Darkness
• Reflection question: Do I consider the consequences of my own actions? What’s my thought process, and how am I teaching the next generation how to act?

July: On Family

July 20

As I did my daily check this morning with my coffee (Gardener’s Handbook, Rule #3: A gardener must always inspect their plants in the morning with coffee, even at the risk of midges diving in for a sip), I couldn’t quite believe the lettuce had grown so quickly. Maybe it’s the hot North Carolina summers. Maybe it was a good batch of soil from Brawley Seed Co. & Garden Center. Or maybe it’s just that Time has a way of deceiving us—that it brings us slow moments daily while working, cooking, or sitting in traffic, but then it bundles those moments like bales of straw into days, week, months, and years that will eventually dry out and turn gray and brown—and before we know it, the lettuce will have grown and been eaten, children will no longer have time for stories at night or watercolors in the morning, parents and partners will grow slow and old, and grandparents will bid their final farewell.

So it’s time to follow Rule #1: Slow down. Watch the seeds sprout and grow and notice it all, because before you know it, it’ll be harvest time.

• Reflection title: A Gardener’s Handbook, Coming Soon
• Creative inspiration: David Von Drehle, The Book of Charlie
• Reflection question: Am I slowing down and enjoying the quiet, everyday moments with my family? Where am I going too fast, and what am I missing?

July: On Family

July 19

As a parent now—living in what I think is safe to say a beautiful, yet crazy world—I’m more conscious than ever of the things I say, and more than that, my actions. I’m not sure truer words have ever been spoken: Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them. I’ll tell my daughter she should exercise, that it’s good for her—No thanks, I’d rather play Barbies. But the next day, she’ll tie a headband around her head and follow me into the workout space in the basement and spend half an hour in there with me swinging her five-pound kettlebell around. You should read, I’ll tell her—it makes you smart. It’s how you learn more about the world and other people—No thanks, I’d rather craft. An hour later, I’m reading a book (if godwilling I get 20 minutes to sit), and she’s right next to me flipping through Falling Up by Shel Silverstein. I’m fortunate to be able to work from home. I imagine when she comes into my office she sees the screen full of words and the back of my head, wondering what I’m doing all day just typing away. I’m writing, I say. It’s what I went to school for, now I’m able to do it for work. I write stories. And then she drags in her foam cushions, grabs a pen and notebook and sets it all up as her “desk” and begins writing stories of her own. Be kind to nature, I’ll say—they’re living creatures too, with feelings—Dad, it’s just a bug. But as we’re in the pool and a lost butterfly falls in and I run to grab the skimmer, she beats me to it, rescuing the little thing and placing it in the zinnias for shade and food.

Kids . . . they’re always watching. They’re always imitating. So you’d better make sure your actions are worth emulating.

• Reflection title: Do As I Say, Do As I Do
• Creative inspiration: James Baldwin, Nobody Knows My Name: More Notes of a Native Son
• Reflection question: Am I leading a good example for those younger than me with my actions, not just my words? Whose actions—those of someone older than I am—do I look to imitate?

July: On Family

July 18

Humans . . . we’re not objective or utilitarian creatures, are we?

No—we can be infinitely bullheaded, romantic, and idealistic. We persevere through untold hardship and crushing pressure, forming social bonds harder than diamonds in the process. It could be your brother, sister, friend, colleague, comrade—it doesn’t matter. It’s something deeply human: that is, the ability to endure the most challenging trials life throws our way and stand beside one another ‘til the end.

• Reflection title: Bullheaded, Romantic, Idealistic, Human
• Creative inspiration: Lord Huron, "Brother"
• Reflection question: Who would I stand beside until the very end? And who in my life would stand beside me?

July: On Family

July 17

Sometimes your immediate family, those closest to you, won’t get it as you drift farther and farther away. But know this: you’re not alone. Despite what the news, social media, or certain politicians might have you think, there’s a whole world of humans out there who care and would be more than willing to throw you a line. Your friends. Your coworkers. Your book club. That one person in an online forum who’s been through, strangely enough, the same exact thing.

Just start looking, and don’t be afraid to ask. That’s all you have to do, and you might find the support you need in the most unlikely of places, from the most unexpected of people. Sometimes, it’s okay to look elsewhere.

• Reflection title: Sometimes, It’s Okay To Look Elsewhere
• Creative inspiration: Josephine Miles, "Family"
• Reflection question: If my family or those closest to me just aren’t hearing me, where else would I look? Am I missing the signals from someone in my family? How can I better hear them?

July: On Family

July 16

When it is in the nature of a parent to believe they always know what’s best and it is in the nature of a child to make their own way, there comes a time when one of them must willingly consult with their nature and persuade it to make a concession. For good or for bad, this must be the parent—or they risk becoming someone who would interfere with their child’s fate or destiny. They risk becoming someone who keeps their child from becoming the person they are meant to be. There comes a time, inevitably, to step aside.

But what is a parent to do if the concession leads to harm—or worse, to their child losing their life? Does the parent risk losing the child’s faith, trust, and even love in order to protect them?

The battle is long and continuous, but . . . I know what I would do—do you?

• Reflection title: Would You Do It All Over Again?
• Creative inspiration: The Last of Us Part II
• Reflection question: Am I willing to make concessions to let those I love carve their own paths? How far is too far?

July: On Family

July 15

Your early years were when the first lines of your morality and understanding of what it means to be human were etched. But as you grew, you found that there were others—sometimes even yourself—who would attempt to continue or rewrite some of those lines—sometimes for better, sometimes for worse.

And this is a part of life. Your tablet is constantly being written, and written over—if it weren’t, you’d be dead. But you must never forget the foundations—those first lines or your thesis: do what is right. Help those who cannot help themselves, show courage in the face of hardship, protect the weak, act with justice, speak the truth, practice patience, forgive others and yourself, lead by example not by force, give freely to those in need, and stand firm in virtue.

And if these were not the first lines of your tabula rasa, if you were never raised this way, know that it’s never too late to learn and write the lines yourself.

Remember this, and you will always find a home in your actions.

• Reflection title: A Scribbled Tablet
• Creative inspiration: Maya Angelou, Mom & Me & Mom
• Reflection question: Do I have a home in my actions? Does my moral compass lead me there?