Best kept Secrets

Life is busy.

When I had my eldest, who is now 31 years old, I went on a short holiday to a caravan site in west Wales -- I think it was Saundersfoot or Tenby. I was newly married to my first wife and we had a little girl who was about 6 months that we were pushing along the promenade. I fell into a conversation with an older man, probably about 10 years older than I am now; a grandfather type figure. He looked at my little girl and said: "Children are one of the best kept secrets". I asked what do you mean? He went on to mumble a comment about how hard it is to raise a child, and then we parted company.

That seemingly un-note-worthy encounter stayed with me, even though on the surface nothing profound was said. I now have six children, all adults ranging in aged between 18 - 31, all are lovely, but each hard in their own way. They need to learn life's lessons for themselves. They challenge your patience in ways you cannot control and which causes feelings ranging from profound joy to utter rage. The level of exasperation is astounding at times, but it is all wrapped up in a love and a desperate desire -- or perhaps a parental need -- to hold their pain for them and ease their burden.

In my case the latest life lessons are a stupid tattoo which has gone badly wrong with one who is now embarrassed and feels foolish. Then my second youngest's depression which has led to a suicide attempt, that came totally out of the blue. Leading to her dropping out of college and returning home, with a boyfriend in-tow who I don't understand, welcome, and see as part of her problems. Counter this, with the pride and joy of the middle child who refused to go to school, but can now hold down a job, reads philosophy and classical literature for fun, and is a accomplished musician; or the one who is trying to cure cancer through genetic research alongside her climate researching partner; or another who has bought her first home at a very young age, after saving up the deposit herself through part-time work. I could go on with hundred of examples, as I am sure all parents can.

The point is that it is a total rollercoaster of emotions which doesn't seem to have an end, and I think that was the secret the elderly gentlemen was referring to. That perhaps you never get back to your personal needs and or clarity to focus on your own wants. He was probably in west Wales on holiday with his grandchildren, still elbow-deep in raising children, probably still dreaming of what he wanted to do with his life: his life's work, the novel he had never had time to write, the business he had never had time to start, the adventures he had never had time to go on. I once heard someone say that within every 80 year old there is an 18 year saying: "What the fuck has just happened!". This frightens me.

The question is what do I do with this. I will never be able to carry the burdens my children face. I will never be able to insulate them from the lives they have to lead, the pains they will suffer, the mistakes they will make, and the reality that life has to be led to be understood. As Soren Kierkegaard once put it: "life is lived forward and understood backwards", and he only made it to 42! I am now at an age where I have lived life long enough to no longer need to be to reaching out for wisdom elsewhere. My personal wisdom and praxis is good enough for my life. It is fluid and not fixed, and yes I still approach life with a learning philosophy, but I am now an elder and I can leverage that to my, and my children's, best advantage. I have the information and knowledge I need to ensure that I don't feel like that elderly gentleman. So what do I now do, knowing what I know, to live my best life as well as helping my children live theirs. To continue on this journey of aporia -- the greek philosophical term meaning difficult in passage, but perhaps the difficulty in passage leads to a clearer sense of enlightenment.