Becoming our Mothers

When I was young I was determined not to be like my German mother who never wasted money on frivolities, who spent most of her time cooking and cleaning her house, who washed delicate clothes by hand, who used coupons at the grocery store, and who never bothered about being overweight. I was not going to be constrained by guilt and fear. I was determined to be a freedom-loving woman. Well, I've been able to eradicate a few of those characteristics, but I am not as free as I would like to be. I'm able to spend money on fun things, do all my laundry in an automatic washer, and try to maintain a manageable weight. But I'm still very work-oriented, always looking for bargains, have guilt feelings when I'm not being productive, and am fearful about many things. When I take time to exercise or get a massage or go to a movie, I congratulate myself on not being like my mother. But when I won't buy something unless it's on sale, fail to try something new, or need to have everything done perfectly, I know I'm becoming my mother. The way we grow up has a large effect on how we live our lives. I think we need to hold on to the good practices, but get rid of the detrimental ones. Change is hard but necessary to become our own persons. Instead of just falling into the same pattern we can stop and think, why am I doing this? Is this  keeping me from becoming a fully alive, mature person? If the answer is yes, pitch it. My mother did the best she could with her limited education and experiences. My worldview is different and I can make better choices.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  Limping to God I come to you, God, weather-beaten and limping, asking for forgiveness for all the times I have failed to be faithful and attentive to all those around me, especially the elderly who have run the race, the poor, the lonely and abandoned, who need my care and concern.     Is there any hope for these old bones? What will it take to change my limp into a surge of energy and a ready step? Teach me to become more caring, more responsive, more aware. Give me eyes to see and the will to act on my good intentions.   Water my dried up spirit and shriveled body, expand my shrunken heart. Give me eyes to see what you are leading me to do even as my bones creak and my legs become unsteady. Make me remember that I am here to serve, to listen, to be ready to be your hands and feet today.   Barbara Mayer, OSB    
Read more
Image
    “Wonderfully Made” When I took a college English course, our first assignment was to write an essay about whether we would rather lose our sight or lose our legs. It was a thought-provoking choice. If we became blind, we would miss seeing our loved ones and all the beauty of our world. If we could not walk, we would be hindered from traveling and moving around without help. I chose to keep my eyesight since I love to read and write and enjoy the variety and beauty that surrounds us.   Of course, I’m glad I didn’t have to make that choice in real life, but it was a thought-provoking assignment. It made me think about how much we take our bodies for granted. I began to think about all the organs, veins, arteries, canals, nerves, and bones we have in our bodies and how they all work together to keep us alive and healthy. It is not until we lose one of them that we realize how magnificent we are, created in the “image and likeness of God.” God loves each and every one of us as if
Read more
Image
  Overcoming Discouragement Sometimes discouragement and failure take over our lives, and we cannot seem to crawl out of our hole. Even if in reality they are not a true picture, we can be blinded by the seeming darkness.  It often takes another person to uncover what is hidden from us and to see through the cloudy picture.  I am reminded of a story about Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous. He tells of how he felt his dream of starting a group for people with drinking problems was not going anywhere. Then unexpectedly Father Dowling, a disheveled priest, came to his door in the middle of a snowstorm. Bill’s caretaker told him that a “damn bum” was at the door. Bill was tired but agreed to see him and in doing so had his “second conversion experience.” Bil and Father Dowling talked way into the night, and Bill told of his “high hopes and plans, and spoke about his anger, despair and mounting frustrations.”  It turned out that the elderly priest had had similar feel
Read more