Talking the Walk (Pun Intended)

(A “Notes to Self” Series)

Quote for Wednesday, 20 February 2019

“Plant seeds of happiness, hope, success, and love; it will all come back to you in abundance. This is the law of nature.”
― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

Yesterday was one of “those days.” Our internet was down as announced hours before. My youngest son couldn’t print his homework. Of course, he could have finished his tasks earlier just like what his dad told him to do. I really didn’t want to be a helicopter mum hovering over everybody and poking on everyone’s nose. However, my better half had a full work schedule (and it’s going to be the same for the next weeks), so I had to do a parent’s task that I always dread doing.

I nagged plus more. I couldn’t help but feel bad, and yet I knew I had to still do something in a way.

Now, let me explain why.

When I was my son’s age and even (until the last parts of my school years up to after college), I didn’t have my parents’ follow-through. I am not too sure if I would’ve had felt uncomfortable if the situation had been different, but I think I really appreciate what had been. I never had any feeling ineptness. Modesty aside, I may have even accomplished a lot when I was younger.

How did that happen?

To be honest, I haven’t really thought about how things turned out the way they did. That’s primarily because I never had to. (With my previous jobs, I’ve been accustomed to historical data analysis and long-term planning, but that’s a different thing though.) But, now that I’ve got two teenaged sons under my tutelage, I am more inclined to think with deeper introspection. I now have to verbalise what had merely been stored, processed, and materialised from a subconscious and instinctive level in my youth. Whereas the proverbial adage goes as “walking the talk,” what I have to do now is “talk my walk.”

With that task at hand in mind, I now have to scramble to find out nuggets of truth in my growing up years that I could impart to my young ones. I think the following could suffice as a start:

Micromanagement isn’t the only solution. Not being micro-managed made me become more independent, more responsible for my actions, and more realistic in anticipating their consequences.
Support but do not disempower. My parents were just there to support me but not do things for me. There was one single time, though, that my mum had to do one of my assignments, and I really won’t be able to forget that. But, that was the only time something like that ever happened. I thank her for helping me out, but the fact that she had to help me wasn’t one of the things I was too proud of. I also had great people in my life – our extended family, friends, teachers, and all others whose presence and gesture made a difference. Then again, they didn’t need to do what I should really have done myself. (Of course, teamwork works; each team member had to do one’s part, though, and not expect other team members to do all of the work. Some roles need to be enabling others to work, but leadership by example is a good thing.)
Focus. They never had to follow me around or remind me to study. I think I was even too studious, engrossed with extracurricular work a lot during off-school hours, and buried in my books’ pages in between that doing household stuff became bothersome for me. (I still did the house stuff, but often with a heavy heart although it shouldn’t be so.)
Do what needs to be done. I just did what I thought I had to do. I made no excuses for myself. If it needed to be done, I did it. The results were merely a bonus, and I never did work solely for them. I did what I did because I thought doing them had been important. I worked harder not to compete with anyone but to be better than I was before. Of course, positive results did come each and every time with awards and related merits to boot.
Pray and work. My parents weren’t saintly, but I’d say that they are faithful. They were part of the Couples of Christ. My father was a lay minister in our parish. My mum was a catechist and led various church activities and organisations. My mum’s side of the family may have different faiths as they belong to different religious organisations, but they held on despite the usual life struggles as well. I was blessed to have had the chance to have had Catholic schooling as my foundation. I came to believe that an honest and dedicated effort should also accompany my prayers, too. God surely did the rest.

But, the above is just my part of the whole story. (That’s for when I was younger. My most recent adult years are an entirely different story, though, for quite unique reasons.) Here comes my husband’s part, which includes but are not limited to the following:

Each one of us is unique. What may be applicable to one may not be so for another. Different strokes for different folks.
If one son can do things independently, another one may need a bit more prodding.
The kids need more of our attention to help them become as they should.
Being there for the kids means being interested in what they do, to know and celebrate what they have accomplished.
The kids could maximise their potentials and opportunities if they’ve got enough guidance and support.

At first glance, both sides of the whole story may seem contradictory. I’d like to believe that they are actually not. I won’t say that I’m the only who got everything right. I’d have to acquiesce to the obvious fact that my husband’s words are wise, as always. He’s the one who has always walked his talk. He’s the one who is able to make things happen, especially in more recent years of our marriage. His sacrifices and efforts are really worthy of acknowledgement; if I could give him an award, I certainly would.

I’d rather not focus on our differences in opinion because being married doesn’t have to make us lose our own personality and persona. What I’d like to emphasise is that he is correct and to be admired in his sincere efforts to give our kids the best that they could have for their future. His love for his sons isn’t to be doubted because it really shows. His sons are blessed to have him. I am thankful.

My youngest (thirteen-year-old) son has achieved a lot so far. (His older brother has his own line of accomplishments, too.) The list includes the following, among others:

He has written a full-length novel when he was only eleven; we’re planning to have it published one day.
When he graduated from primary school in December 2018, he became a Principal’s Mindset for Learning awardee.
Before the end of last year, he bagged his basketball team’s Most Valuable Player (MVP) award; he got the same award the year before.
Also, he has recently beaten adults in South Australia and became a Karate State Champion of South Australia in addition to another award.
Since January of this year, he has been enjoying his new set of adventures as one amongst the very few kids across the state who had been accepted in the Gifted and High Achievers’ Program. His current school is one among only three in the state currently offering the facility.

With all the above accomplishments, why shouldn’t I trust my kid when he says he can do things? Who could blame me for believing in his own capacity to learn things on his own? I agree with my husband that there shouldn’t be any room for complacency. Nonetheless, I want our son to take considerable credit for whatever he has accomplished and will accomplish later in his life, though. The two of us could agree to disagree about certain things, but what matters more is that both of our sons would be able to have the brightest future they could ever have.

To our great God be all the glory.

(For more quotes about hope, check out Goodreads.)