Since it's Back to School season, I thought it was a good time to mention the two greatest lessons I ever learned, from the greatest woman I ever knew: my mom.
Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I was four. I was four and turning five. I was four and turning a "very important number" as I recall stating emphatically on the very day I turned five. There was something magical about the age of five for me. Perhaps it was just because it was 'bigger' than four. Or perhaps it was half a decade (although I doubt I knew what a decade was at four). Perhaps I recalled my older brother being five at one time before me, and thought that was really "big."
Whatever the case, it was winter time and I was clumsily putting on the big rubber boots that went over my shoes, as children did in Montreal, Canada, in the wintertime...clumsily because after all, I was four-not-yet-five, and I remember looking over to my much-adored mother (who always enabled my independence and did not reach over to help me less-clumsily put on my boots- exactly as I would have wanted it) and said, rather excitedly: "I can't wait until I'm five. Five is a very big number."
To which my mother exclaimed, rather disappointingly: "Don't wish your life away."
And then exactly 15 years later, I wished her life back again. And remembered never again to wish my life away. Not a year. Not a month. Not a week. Not a day. Not an hour. Not a minute (with exception of getting my teeth cleaned and other unpleasant moments with people in white coats.) I do not wish my life away.
But I do wish I were four-not-quite-five again. Just so I could ask my mommy for help with my rubber boots. Seems like I needed more guidance from her than I thought.
And then there was lesson number two, which came about five years later, when I was not quite a teen. My mother read a poem to me, which I did not know was famous, by a poet whose name reminded me of the Holiday season, Robert Frost. The poem was....
The Road Not Taken
She made me memorize it. And I did. Never knowing why. Still, today, not knowing why my mother, who did not necessarily choose her own road less traveled, chose that particlar poem for me to memorize. But I did:
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Now at 10 or so, I did not know there was a life-lesson here for me. But I did fall in love with the poem too. Perhaps because it was a gift from my mother. Perhaps it was the beauty and the rythm of it. Or the frosty warmth it evoked. Or the fact that I, other that just memorizing the poem, could actually choose a road less traveled. One day. When I was big-and-not-just-ten.
As an Aunt by Choice, I sent a girlfriend's daughter a list of things to think about as she turned 16. One of those lessons was to live her dream. And if she didn't know what her dream was yet, to wait for it. It was coming.
Two years ago, I did not have the dream to create SavvyAuntie.com. But I knew I had a dream coming... and believe me, in my
Then one day, two roads diverged in my world: to keep the search for a job, sort of same job, different office, or forge out on my own... take the road less traveled.
My dream was before me. And I took it.
And for that very reason, there is no doubt, no moment, no week, no day, no minute that I wish my life away.
These are my lessons, for you, Dear Reader. If you find yourself wishing your work day away, take a walk. Find a woods. Begin your journey. Follow your dreams.
And if you do not know what your dream is yet, wait for it. It's coming.
And that will make all the difference.
XOXO,
Auntie Melanie
(Oh and PS, please vote for me to be in the Hot Blogger Calendar! http://hotbloggercalendar.com/vote-hottest-female Thanks!!)