Good measure

Lately my eight year old son has been thinking a lot about evolution.

When I was a kid, I think the idea of evolution was quite a stressful one for me.  I didn't understand how my Sunday School understanding of God - of Creation - could co-exist with the idea of primal sludge somehow morphing into conscious, sentient life.  Religion vs. Science.  Faith vs. Proof.

I can still feel the tension creep into my body when I think of it.  A physical memory.

Our boys don't have this same angst.  Not sure why.  I think partly it's because my Sunday School God doesn't exist anymore - at least not for me.  Or for John.  And we see no need to recreate His existence for our 2 boys.  (Sidebar: I say this with no resentment or judgment whatsoever toward Mrs. Epp or Mr. Janzen or the many other lovely Sunday School teachers that I remember fondly).  In contrast, we see tremendous value in sharing with our kids an honest offering of the complicated nature of faith and relationships and engagement with others and with God.  We don't really do easy answers at our house.  I know many people, including some of my friends, disagree with us on this.  And that's OK.

The truth is, I love the fact that my kids can wonder about evolution, take it for granted even, and not have this shake their understanding of God.  I think on some level they have come to know that mystery and uncertainty are really the only things that are certain in life.

Yesterday, Nicholas specifically wondered aloud why humans had evolved to have 5 fingers when he figured 3 would do us just fine.  He did many experiments over the weekend to prove his theory - that really, most tasks can be managed quite capably with just the 3.  He figured the other two were just good measure.

Wishes

As I was thinking about my earlier post on decisions, I felt a certain pathetic-ness at my inability to self-actualize.  Then I happened across this quote from Roberty Southey, an English poet from the 1800's:

To a resolute mind, wishing to do is the first step toward doing. If we do not wish to do a thing it becomes impossible.

And this I believe.

Decisions

It dawned on me the other day that something I thought I had decided a long time ago was not, in fact, a decision.  It was more like a wish.  And these things are not the same.

The thing that I thought I had decided was about the amount of time and energy that I was going to give to my work.  And the amount of time and energy that I was going to give to my family and other areas of my non-work life.  I thought I had made intentional decisions about the focus of my attentions.

What has become clear is that a decision to do certain things (or not do them, as the case may be) is useless if you do nothing else but decide that it is (or isn't) so.  I'm not sure when it struck me, this difference between a decision and a wish.  And the fact that I have the control to shift from wishing something to making it happen.  Totally obvious, I know, but sometimes I can be a little thick.

So, I've made new decisions.  Real decisions this time.  Practical decisions.  Ones that aren't just wishes.  They may not be big, but they're small.

I don't take work calls after 3:30 pm anymore.  Or on weekends.  I don't even check emails or voice-mail (OK, very rarely).  At the end of the day I shut down my computer, turn the heat off in my office and I don't go in there until my next workday.

The wishful yearning to not be bugged by work (and co-workers) outside of my workday for years has felt just that.  Wishful yearning.  But that's changing.  And with it (or more likely as a necessary precursor to it) so is my self-identity.

And I feel the joy.  Because when I'm reading a story with my son, I am focusing on snuggling under the blanket with him, sharing the genuine moment of closeness, knowing that he is quickly growing up.  Work can wait.  And it will.