I learnt something new in parenting yesterday.
Knowing what I know, and doing what I do, my children have both internalised high expectations of themselves. They expect much of themselves, and reach towards the stars... except that, when you are a child, the stars seem nearer and more reachable. A child's world is small. The ceiling on which we have painted fluorescent stars is no more than 3m off the ground.
Now, both are adult children. Both now look at me and The Husband, and think: "I need to at least get to where my parents are."
To my eyes, my children are about as accomplished as children can get in this day and age. If I am not pleased with them, nor proud of them, then I am an unreasonable and abusive mother.
The Daughter had a strong start in the workforce. The Son will be going to Cambridge. So, it was to my great surprise that I discovered that both felt weighed down by the stress of having to fill our shoes: The Husband's and mine. They worried that they would never achieve what we have achieved, much less surpass us.
It took me a few days to get my head wrapped around this novel idea: that The Husband and I are hard acts to follow, and my children feared they would never be able to match up, much less surpass.
The idea was novel because of 3 reasons:
(1) We never thought of ourselves as hard acts to follow.
(2) We never thought that we would ourselves represent our children's impossible goals.
(3) Our children already surpass both of us at the same age.
I always took for granted that ...
长江后浪推前浪
... and I expected my children to be better than The Husband and me. I expected it with the same naturalness as expecting the sun to rise the next day, or that when I breathe in, there will be oxygen coming into my lungs.
I still think my children are better people than we are in almost every way. To start with, The Husband and I are each very lopsided in our strengths and weaknesses profile. He excels at Math. I excel in the Humanities. He is good with people. I am not. I am good with herbs and children. He is not. In almost every way you can think of, The Husband and I are polar opposites of each other. I made sure that my children were less lopsided.
Also, compared to our peers, The Husband and I are really not very successful at all.
Yet, I begin now to understand that the stress of what LOOKS like an impossible goal will destroy my children. They will be impatient for success and perhaps, make ungodly decisions as they go through life. They will have performance anxiety and fail at critical moments to make it, when they would have made it, if they were relaxed and chill, and having fun.
So, as a mother, I examined my own heart. What do I really want for my children?
I am not sure myself what is success. I remember reading about a very beautiful woman who rejected every rich suitor to marry someone far less wealthy because she did not want the pressures of rich in-laws. I applauded her wisdom because I was then living with a NOT AT ALL wealthy in-law who gave me as much pressure as if she were dripping in jewels. What must life be like with a wealthy in-law, I wondered.
With frugal living and wise investment, this beautiful young woman courted by many, matured into a beautiful old woman lauded for her financial savvy and prudence. She had many children, and a loving husband. Is that success?
Then, there was the story of an old cobbler, who donated millions to orphanages when he died. He had spent a lifetime bent over old shoes, repairing them. He spent little on himself, saving up all his money for orphans. Is that success?
Then, there was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who lived a life in front of the Kings and Queens of Europe. He died penniless and was buried in a mass grave. He left us reams of music to enjoy through the ages. Is that success?
Then, there was also Vincent Van Gogh, the madman and posthumous genius. Is that success?
How about Jackie Chan, kung fu superstar with money flowing out his ears, but who almost never saw his wife and who fathered an illegitimate child whom he did not acknowledge nor ever looked after. Is that success?
How about Sun Yan Sen, the father of an entire country, who had a penchant for teenage girls, and seduced up to 4 that we know of. Is that success?
So, I don't know what is success. In school, success is good grades. In life, success is so much more. Even in school, we know that to measure a child only on his grades or PSLE t-score is wrong. In life, how to measure success? I don't know. I really don't.
Then, am I a success? Autistic? Have trouble making eye contact? Freeze often in mid-conversation with someone, not sure what to say that is not offensive, or that can make that person like me more. Spent 30 years stupidly allowing a mother-in-law to abuse me. Spent 30 years without money to call my own.
Since I don't know what is success, I am going to wish Life upon my children. That their lives be full of experiences, of learning, of joy, of love and of enough. I wish for them only enough money that they have to earn it, and experience the joy thereof. I wish for them only enough love that they can have the joy of giving love, to get more love. I wish for them peace, and safety. I wish for them enough food that they can have the joy of eating because they are sometimes hungry. I wish for them a comfortable old age, good health and plenty of young ones to care for them. I wish for them a lifelong partner and love of their life, with whom to share all of the above.
I wish them not too much and not too little of everything that makes life sweet. I wish them a hint of bitterness and sourness in life because without these, you don't understand how life is sweet.
That should be a life well lived. Is that success?
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