I’m a creature of habit. As much as I love adventure, I take comfort in the little routines of motherhood, carefully evolved over years of practice. Those small moments help center me, help me to feel at peace – knowing my babies are right where they’re supposed to be every night and morning. They are the ordinary moments of motherhood that bring me unimaginable joy.
Since August, my routines have been turned topsy-turvy. Pre-dawn tiptoeing down the hall, quietly nudging open bedroom doors, I find only one bed occupied. The other remains as it was last night, and the night before, and the night before that, white duvet pulled tautly against the black bedframe. White carpet screams vacancy at me in absence of dirty laundry, skis and textbooks. She’s not here.
When I dropped Lily off at college eight weeks ago, life had thrown those ordinary moments in the air like debris after a tornado. A flooded kitchen and broken bones combined to transform a quiet July into absolute chaos. I mourned the changes happening around me, yet at the same time, I couldn’t think about them for more than a moment. Life was just that tumultuous. Unpredictable. The ‘new normal’ was unfolding in front of me, and although I knew it was coming, I felt unprepared. Vulnerable.
As moments spun into days, I wound up at Lily’s college convocation – alone. This was it – the last official event before I would drive the six hundred miles back to reality – alone. It was a celebration of great importance in her life. It was the moment I’d been preparing for and denying for 18 years, and there was no stopping it. Time was in motion. This was really happening.
Bagpipers brusquely proclaimed the arrival of 500 new freshman, kids ready to launch their dreams and move to the next phase of their lives. To find the extraordinary in life. To celebrate their transition to a life on their own.
Life wasn’t exactly going according to plan. I wasn’t supposed to have to battle this moment on my own. I felt my body lighten as she walked down the aisle in her tie-dye T shirt, smiling yet just a touch apprehensive. She’s California, I thought. The only one in the room.
I sat in the bleachers, fighting the tears and watching my little girl’s childhood flash before my eyes, and began to listen to Dr. Richard Badenhausen, head of the Honors College, read William Martin, The Parent’s Tao Te Ching: Ancient Advice for Modern Parents. In that moment, my heart lifted just enough to catch a glimpse of clarity-to cement me in the present:
“Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.”
Have I done that? Is that the two-year-old girl down there – the one who delighted in smearing peaches in her mouth, juice oozing down her chin? Is that the five-year-old who grabbed my hand and pulled me to the jungle gym to proudly perform her latest trick? Did all the years of homework and studying and projects and sports and testing and applications prepare her for the ordinariness of life? She reached her goal, she’s attending the college of her choice – hopefully the one of her dreams, too. Is she ready to leave the moments of self-doubt, of wondering if her transcript is strong enough or her athleticism amazing enough to have a college want her? Is she ready to stop worrying about being extraordinary and just enjoy being….ordinary?
“The path to success travels through the ordinary. Life is transformative through the lens of time,” the speaker continued. He’s speaking my language. Have I not spent the last 18 years peering into this day? Have I not known that each moment we spent together would help guide her down this path? Why are these words causing me to weep?
“Listen when others speak,” he advised. “Have conversations with professors. Write second drafts of essays. Ask for help – perfection is an unattractive quality.” Grit, I thought. Digging deep – that attribute we hope our children develop over years of testing and writing and competing. What she learned on the ski hill. What I hope she left home with. What I know will see her through. What I hope she’s listening to at this very moment.
“Focus on the ordinary,” he continues. My attention is rapt-is hers? “Build a foundation that will steady you. Have awareness of yourself and your place in the world. Focus on the ordinary. The extraordinary will take care of itself.”
He ends his speech and the crowd applauds. Bagpipers chant and drone their way down the center of the room, the freshmen following behind. She’s one of the last out – I can spot her green and yellow tie dye from the bleachers. I recognize that look on her face – the one where she knows she’s done well and that I’m watching.
Aware of her place in the world – yes she is. Her foundation is rock solid.
She’s ready.
She’s extraordinary.
She can take care of herself.
Comments: 21
In Our Most Ordinary Days - mamawolfe
April 22, 2016[…] celebrate the extraordinary in the ordinary, the touching of my feet to the floor every morning, the opportunity to watch my children and my […]
Zen living
March 24, 2016[…] with emerald tendrils, the golden acacia unfurls in spires of circular sunlight. Life, in all its extraordinary ordinariness, pushes forth. If I had great patience, I would stand still, and practice living in the moment. I […]
Joy Is Everywhere - mamawolfe
January 15, 2016[…] I first read William Martin after hearing him quoted at my daughter’s college convocation. His quote from The Parent’s Tao Te Ching: Ancient Advice for Modern Parents moved me to tears, it so perfectly captured how I was feeling about having my firstborn move away. Subsequently, I used his words in one of my most popular blog posts to date, “Extraordinary in the Ordinary”. […]
Something - Anything - Pumpkin - mamawolfe
November 17, 2015[…] Extraordinary in the Ordinary […]
Parents, Did You Teach Your Children To Weed? - mamawolfe
July 9, 2015[…] your children to pay attention, to delight in small discoveries in life, like tulips sprouting at the first sign of spring, or a lily straining to grow and share her […]
3 Awesome Reasons To Have A Selfie Free Summer - mamawolfe
June 26, 2015[…] every day? Pay attention to the little things in life. Be present. Be grateful. Look out for the extraordinary in the ordinary. Use your voice – ask someone to help you take a photo instead of staying trapped inside […]
"Boyhood" and All Those Blurry, Emotional Parenting Moments - mamawolfe
June 20, 2015[…] Yes, the tears flowed when Patricia Arquette (who absolutely deserved that Academy Award) reminded me that when they leave the safety of our family nest, that it’s time for us to not only remember all those moments, but create what comes next. Do you remember her last lines in the film? They were awesome, emotional, and struck my heart. Fighting tears, she reminds us that motherhood is a series of ‘milestones’, and despite knowing that the time will come when our children leave home, it’s never easy – especially when they’re happy about it. Her words echoed my own, written as my daughter left for college. […]
Every Day is a Gift - mamawolfe
June 20, 2015[…] All around us thousands of folks rolled, walked and skipped to the infield and began the triple loop of support. Banners and balloons and costumes marched around the track, following Cathy’s chorus of “Hey, hey, ho, ho, ALS has got to go”. With every pass by home plate I looked around and breathed and took it all in – the azure blue of the sky, the scent of sunscreen and happiness, the smiles and laughter and love walking and wheeling along side me. The 15-year-old boys supporting Cam as he wheeled around the first base line, Cathy’s life-long friends gently holding an umbrella over her head, Cameron’s teacher and her son mixing with parents, teachers, and kids in a sea of adoration and support and extraordinariness on an ordinary day. […]
A Few of My Favorite Mothers. Meet Jennifer
May 5, 2015[…] I highly recommend you read the entire post in it’s entirely here. […]
Living in Courage: Three Vignettes Vlog - mamawolfe
March 13, 2015[…] in front of a microphone; no hiding behind the keyboard now. I’ll be reading my essay, Extraordinary in the Ordinary, live on April 30, and it will be taped and broadcast on the LTYM You Tube channel this summer. […]
Birthdays - mamawolfe
December 10, 2014[…] been writing this year about change and possibilities and as soon as I realized that this day, so notable in the large moments of my […]
Halloween Costumes: Moments I Thought Would Never End - mamawolfe
October 24, 2014[…] best friend? How could I forget the pirate in rubber fireboots? How have these moments escaped me? Extraordinary in their ordinariness, they flicker with time like a fading, silent movie […]
Kari Peterson
October 22, 2014I came across that very same passage about a week ago and connected immediately. It’s wonderful. And your words here place it perfectly in the context of raising our beautiful kids to be okay in life and to enjoy the richness of it. I just love what you’ve written. So thoughtful. Good job, mom. 🙂
Jennifer Wolfe
October 23, 2014Thank you, Kari. I fell in love with that quote when I heard it at convocation…so fits my philosophy, and I’m so happy you commented to let me know how it has impacted you, too! Thanks for the vote of confidence! ~Jennifer
Elaine A.
October 20, 2014I adore the juxtaposition of knowing when she was a child, you were preparing her for just this. Lovely words.
Jennifer Wolfe
October 20, 2014Thank you, Elaine. I think deep down we’re all doing the same thing – preparing our kids for the unknown from the minute we see them. It’s so strange to have the unknown staring you in the face…still not used to having her gone. Thanks so much for commenting~ great to meet you! ~Jennifer
bit.ly
October 20, 2014[…] moved here […]
Carpool Goddess
October 18, 2014I can so relate to the college drop off. My “baby” started her junior year and my son just started law school. Empty nesters again! (Love the name of your blog, I’m a mama “Wolff” too – no E.)
Jennifer Wolfe
October 18, 2014So good to meet you, Linda! How cool we’re both mamawolves! Yes, the drop-off has been an amazing experience…I have a h.s. freshman at home, and can’t imagine what the empty nest syndrome will feel like. Hope to hear more advice from you on your blog!
My Inner Chick
October 17, 2014Such deep insight.
FABULOUS photo!!! x
My Inner Chick recently posted…10 Things That Effing Electrify Me
Jennifer Wolfe
October 18, 2014Thank you, dear Kim. I’ve been stuck in my head a lot lately, and that poem has been right there with me! And yes on the photo – her boyfriend is an amazing photographer! Love how she smiles 🙂