I've been a parent for over two and a half years now, and I still don't identify as a mom. I mean, I know I'm a mom. I have the stretch marks, sippy cups and sleep-addled brain to prove it. But I don't quite feel like me in this new mom skin yet.
We don't usually cut the fluff and really talk about what lies inside. When a college asks, "Who are you?" most of us will give generic answers. Many will talk about extracurricular activities and the things they like to do. Yet if we're honest with ourselves, are we really that simple?
Do we want them to be like us, or totally different? Do we care about the lifestyle they choose as long as they find happiness? Do we have the courage to help them figure out who they are without imposing our mirror on them?
The other day, I took my high schooler out for breakfast after all the others were tucked into their respective classrooms. As we sat at the table, I took out a notepad and asked if she was up for a little game called "What I really want is..."
Millions of kids feel the burden of appearing successful rather than the wonder of self-discovery. Many unknowingly or unwillingly cave in. They live lives that please peers, parents and institutions rather than their inner-selves.
Back then, I was just starting to get a clue about my spiritual reality, but without a doubt, George was already there. He has often been referred to as "the spiritual Beatle." Looking back at that evening, I can see why.