When I was a young teen, my Grandma sat me down to give me a piece of advice. That was Lena, my father’s mother. She was a teacher of my heart, though I didn’t come to know that until another six or so years passed.
I was a teen. A bit out of touch. A bit fumbly, as young teens often are. A bit vacant. I was a kid who cared most about baseball then. And my friends. I think Grandma wanted to steer me into a more thoughtful way of being. She saw some capability in me. Or perhaps just loved me, and did what she did — pointed to a more conscious way to live.
I’m glad.
Grandma drew this diagram for me on a piece of paper. She had flip charts and markers in her home — so I guess I come by that naturally. And then started to explain. “When you are a teenager, like yourself, Grandson, you see yourself as this big circle on the left and you see the rest of the world as this small dot on the right.” She was likely calling out a young and immature quality in me. A self-centeredness.
She continued, drawing a second diagram. “As you grow and learn, you begin to see yourself like this diagram. You become the small dot on the left. And you begin to recognize that the world is the bigger circle on the right. You begin to pay attention to what is going on in the world. You begin to feel its wonder.”
Again, that’s a Grandma that I think showed some guts, some clarity, and some truth-telling. She wasn’t snarky. She wasn’t shaming. I remember feeling that she was speaking with sincerity. And that meant something to me — kinda planted a seed in me that would have me returning to her many times in my young and mid adult life.
Now, I’m now aware that there is nuance to this particular conversation. For some of us, it is significant work and journey to claim our big selves (not make ourselves small). Some of us need to step into our bigness. All of that. I think Grandma was clear on that also, but likely wise enough to know the limit of what I could hear, then.
Well, now, 50 or so years later, I offer this nod to my Grandma. And, bring just one more layer of nuance to those diagrams she drew so long ago.
I’ve added the blue spiral on top of my Grandma’s diagrams. It symbolizes what I’ve come to recognize as a life force moving through us. And through circumstance. And moving with us. It symbolizes an organizing pattern that sometimes calls for brave individuality, in connection with all the other things going on. Or sometimes, an organizing pattern that calls us to a brave communality, an extreme relationality together. Life moves through us. With us. Among us. From those seeds Gma planted in me, a garden remains growing in me. And I’m glad to say that I’ve been able to plant a few seeds in others too.
Grandma gave some good advice. That’s her below, on the left as a 34 year old. On the right, a little later in her life. She passed in 2008, at 89.
Yup. I’m glad for the advice from a Grandma.
