If you have followed Laura’s blog, the main message for an Acton Academy parent is “letting go” and “trust your children”. It is one of the hardest things to do and I only understood why recently.
My wife and I are expecting a child. We kept a small journal that is dedicated to her* growth. It is also a way we expressed our love for her. As I wrote the first lines, I saw how my tears filled with love and my soul becoming attached. My wife even had visions of her—cute, big eyes but a small, fragile body. The last time I wrote to her, she was only one centimeter.
Fragile.
It is necessary and logical that parents do what they can to protect an infant. The act goes much earlier, to the beginning stages of pregnancy. My wife limited her coffee intake. I know couples go on lifestyle regimes so they can have better chances of conceiving. My wife and I are at the late stage of the first trimester and we struggled to overcome the fear of miscarriage.
When parents, especially mothers do all they can to nurture their baby, naturally this leads to strong attachment. More importantly, the image of fragility exists constantly. It doesn’t help that we have an all-consuming digital media that feed our fears. We want to do our best to protect our little fragile one.
But the average five-year-old is far from a fragile infant. Even as a kid I remembered jumping six stairs down and doing somersaults as if I was born for the circus. I recalled all my friends doing more or less the same.
Until one of us got injured. Blood. The first time might be scary. But this happened often enough, and when the bleeding stopped, we got up and continued our games.
Really, blood is scary. I recalled crying as a six-year-old when I saw my father “bled” a pack of blood. Thankfully, a nurse cheered me up with a sweet milo drink and explained about blood donation and why it is a good thing. I felt my dad was a hero immediately after.
What if my parents prevented my falling downs or the experience of seeing blood? I would have misconceptions of blood donation. But far worse, I would not be able to get up and play again. If there was an iPad back then, it would have been a refuge since no real blood is involved.
It has been three weeks since I wrote on my daughter’s diary.
She has grown four times. Four times in three weeks—absolutely incredible. She is still fragile, but much less than when we first knew her or three weeks ago. Following her growth has been a beautiful journey; I dreamed of her showing us the world through her bright eyes. A young lady who is independent and full of love, hope, and courage.
But that dream will happen only because our daughter has experienced bleeding, falling down and climbing back up again. She will have to overcome her fears to find true love. I have to overcome my fears to find that true love too.
The only thing I reminded myself is that within my lifetime, my daughter is becoming less fragile by the day. Knowing that and the nurse who comforted me with a bloody truth, I look forward to growing up and showing her the world as it really is.
Like the misconception of blood donation, we will let go and unlearn together. It’s a journey that is ikigai.
*My wife had a vision that it is a girl. We don’t know if this is true, but we are blessed either way.