On Bowing Down

We got to keep Duke (“6 almost 7″) and Veda (4, “Shouldn’t you already know that?”) for two weekends.  Jill charted two endurance courses: meals, swimming, shopping, splash pad #1, playground, Monsters Inc. twice since they transformed Life.Church for At The Movies on that theme, maybe sleeping, church, coffee shops, splash pad #2, naps and home.

I think I love having them until I compare myself to Mimi, who is juiced beyond belief.  I make funny games, listen to them gossip, pontificate on arcane minutiae, and become self-aware.   Twice Duke replayed the “You are not allowed to touch my privates” speech.  Then, maybe ten minutes later, he called me to the restroom to wipe his bottom after going #2.

Tempted to replay that I should not touch him, Mimi’s look-of-death froze the thought in inaction.  True self-awareness awaits further work.

Somewhere in a blur of making blueberry pancakes (thirteen grain); Duke asked, “When did you bow down to Mimi?”

He caught my blank face.

Duke, “You DID bow down to Mimi, right?”

I now looked at Mimi, my wife and girlfriend, and she realized Duke had seen photos in our little digital photo frame over by the toys, and in those photos, a somewhat grainy Colt knelt before Claire one night at the Botanical Gardens.  He was asking her to marry him.

She said “Yes”, ergo Duke, Nova and Veda.

So I told him I bowed down to Mimi at the North Pole on the map of the world in the old Dallas Love Terminal, and she said “Yes”.  Yes.  I bowed down to her.

I thought later I should add, “And when she met my family and still kept me, and when your dad was born, and when her first horse died and we lost a baby between the boys, and when I served in ministry and we always had more month than money.”

Then I thought to add, “And this morning because she loves you, worked two days to prepare this weekend, enriches my life, keeps up with a zillion people, paints beautifully, cares for animals, and is funny, witty and reads.”

Now I have to wait until he returns with his mom and dad, and I should bow down more often, and say so.


Cheering and Creativity

Do we cheer for true creativity?  Should we reserve our applause only for amazing creativty?

Like my sons before him, I cheer for my grandson Duke when he walks, feeds himself, and even when he poops — on a pot, soon his mother hopes.  Is that truly, wildly, earth-shatteringly creative?  No. 

Not yet. 

But still I cheer him, because he doesn’t cheer for himself, yet.  He will, hopefully, rise to internalize his cheering, take pride in his work, and come to know that what he has done is good enough when that is all it needs to be.

When my college and grad students give their two minute pitches, the rest of the class claps and cheers.  Do they clap because their ideas push the envelope of technology?  Are their business plans advancing the frontiers of applied science? 

Not yet. 

No they clap because they were all scared spitless as well, and are thrilled to survive the first pitch.  They have done something out of their comfort zone and survived.  Some even did very well. 

And so a subset of my students will continue to work with ideas.  They will appropriate technologies, combine ideas others had missed, extrapolate the principles of one application to another domain and make small advances.  Some, doing it for long enough will finally reach the frontiers of thought in some domains — and birth world-changing ideas.

Meanwhile, I will cheer for Duke at his first recital, first soccer game, and when he graduates from grade six, because that is what grandfathers do.  That is what a child needs to internalize accomplishment and hunger for more.  Then I will hand him over to other teachers, and they bloody well better encourage him, push him out of his comfort zones, and give him tastes of achievement and creation, because that is what good teachers do.

For all those years, Duke will first achieve what millions, and then thousands, and then hundreds, and then maybe only a handful of others have achieved.  Starting way far from any frontier, he will achieve and build, and move closer and closer to the frontier — be it the frontier in music, business, ministry or science — or family. 

My goal is to cheer for him, until he can quietly face the fears and uncertainties in building something new on whichever frontier he so chooses to build and flourish. 

Somehow, and I am biased, that makes me think you should cheer for him and all those like him as well, until they are at the pinnacle on the frontier and everyone else will join in to cheer.  Until then, way far back here from the frontier of true achievement, it is my job.