Looking in Through the Sliding Glass Door

May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” – Nelson Mandela

The other night, I was standing at the kitchen sink putting the final dishes for the day in the dishwasher when my kids walked into the kitchen after bedtime. I caught sight of them – seven-year-old Miss O in the lead hugging her stuffy close and three-year-old Mr. D seeking a little comfort by standing in the shadow of his sister and wearing his little dinosaur shorty pajamas. I had to turn back to the sink for a moment to try to put my game face on. It was a clear violation of bedtime rules and I needed to try to assemble some sort of serious countenance because seeing them quietly standing there had totally melted my heart.

It was like I caught a vision of the reverse of Brené Brown’s sliding glass door moments. She describes those as the small glimpses where you see the life you could have on the other side and have to decide whether or not to cross the threshold.

In this case, it was like I was on the outside looking back in at the life that I created for myself when I made the choice to have kids. I had a fleeting flash of what walking through that sliding glass door into this life has delivered.

I saw my life has been redefined to drop most standards of cleanliness and order, and all attempts at perfection. Instead it has become a continuous re-sorting of my priorities so that I’m trying to do what is important in the moment. And in the shuffling, I’ve come to discover that I can repeatedly choose my kids, myself, and family instead of arbitrary external markers of success.

The glimpse let me see that I’ve gotten better at “being” instead of “doing.” My kids are a lot of work and in a strange paradox they have taught my how to let work go – to relax and slow down. I get so much less done – but I laugh so much more while I do it. And when I don’t laugh, when I’m all bound up and tight – these two are my sanity check to reground myself in why.

I glimpsed how the power of believing this all is my choice has carried me through some really tough times of sickness, sleeplessness, and carrying too much weight. Simply knowing that I chose this has given me strength I didn’t know I had before.

I saw my transformation to believe in miracles – because I’m living with two. And my kids continue to be miracles long after they were born because they’ve become my teachers. I thought I would be the teacher and they would be the learners – only to find out that I’m the one learning about how to have a meaningful and authentic life. Those lessons come from the myriad of interactions that we have had to crouch and look at bugs, stuff our pockets full of rocks, snuggle together to talk about feelings, quietly draw and color together, run excitedly to the beach on vacation, fold into each other while reading books, lash out in anger at boundaries, fear, and discomfort, and heal together holding hands when we’ve talk/acted/laughed it out.

By becoming their lightening rod for big emotions, I have learn to cultivate my own emotional intelligence about the weather inside me. They’ve taught me to choose joy. Not happiness, but joy!

In that moment, I caught a sense of how everything that transpired before I had kids has come together to help – my love of outdoors, my family, my gaining a sense of going with the flow, the endurance training. And most of all, my faith, and that has the goodness of my dad all wrapped up in it too.

I saw that “me” had been completely replaced with “we.” That I have given up the ability to make unilateral decisions and in return have been gifted with a life filled with heart.

From all of this, I was left with a heart melting feeling. Seeing my kids both as the precious, earnest, and delightful little ones that they are and the courageous, free, and integrated people they are becoming. And seeing myself as the same.

After being gifted with this glimpse of things, I finally turned to my kids to hear them out as to why they were out of bed. They’d been fighting and needed a referee. My little flash of perspective helped me choose not to be irritated or impatient but instead just listen. I told them I loved them and sent them back to bed.

My post on Wise & Shine today is about my mom’s choices: The Choices We Make: My Mom the Spy

59 thoughts on “Looking in Through the Sliding Glass Door

  1. I absolutely love this Wynne. “Being instead of doing.” “The glass door..” There’s so much here I love. Mostly it’s about being a mom to two beautiful growing souls. Your patience and authenticity with them will pay off doubly as they evolve into being as we do too. We are in fact the learners. My kids have taught me so much and continue to. They have shaped and hollowed me, grounded me and helped me grow. I’m ever grateful for it, even though this is the toughest work I’ve ever done. Beautiful beautiful post. Thank you for sharing! 🌸

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    1. This sentence, Alegria “They have shaped and hollowed me, grounded me and helped me grow. I’m ever grateful for it, even though this is the toughest work I’ve ever done.”

      Yes, yes, yes!! Perfectly put! Thanks for the lovely comment!

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  2. I think regularly re-sorting priorities is important regardless of our circumstances. This is heavy on my mind lately because of our new house; when we bought it, we had a list of things we wanted to upgrade…but as we settled in, we realized other things, different ones that we hadn’t initially considered, were more important. So, we scrapped the ceiling fans for wallpaper removal and painting, ditched the stainless steel fridge for a riding mower, etc. Learning to let go and focus on what is most pressing is truly one of the keys to a happier (and more sane) life.

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    1. What a great point, Mark! There is what we think we should do and what we really need to do — and the closer the lists get, the better off we are maybe??

      Don’t you get your riding mower tomorrow? That sounds a little more fun than a frig anyway… 🙂

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  3. I love when you reflect on your life before and now with your children Wynne. You had time to grow yourself and start on the journey to know yourself, yet when the choice to have kiddos came along you embraced that there was still more to learn. Watching your journey brings me joy as well. 🙂

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  4. “I’ve come to discover that I can repeatedly choose my kids, myself, and family instead of arbitrary external markers of success.” . . .

    Thank you for this precious and inspirational reminder Wynne . . . an enduring internal choice of the heart whose worth exceeds beyond measure the fleeting value of the “arbitrary markers of success.”

    Be blessed Mom as you continue to bless your two little blessings He has entrusted to you.

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  5. Your posts often remind me of the power of pause. Slowing down to take in what’s truly going on around us without leading with the first emotion that rises. Sometimes late in the day, what pops up first is the last feeling I want to unfurl…I can be less-than-patient…sharp when I want to be soft and the scene you created of Mr. D and Miss O tentatively approaching made me remember. It’s okay to receive…and then react. The two don’t need to be intertwined. Even as our girl is now an adult, I’m learning that lesson again and again. Pause. Receive…and then…respond. It’s not a race. xo, my friend! 🥰🥰🥰

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    1. Oh, what a wise comment, Vicki. Especially this “Sometimes late in the day, what pops up first is the last feeling I want to unfurl…I can be less-than-patient…sharp when I want to be soft ”

      Yes, yes, yes. Pause…receive…and then respond. Oh, such powerful words and reminder. Thank you, my friend! ❤

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      1. Oh…you’re sweet. Your beautiful post gave me a reason to pause – LOL – and consider my own behavior. Good stuff, there, Wynne. You made me think. xo! 😘

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  6. What a beautiful post. I like the concept of sliding door moments. “I saw my transformation to believe in miracles – because I’m living with two.” I feel exactly the same way about my kids. They completely changed our priorities. My husband decided not to climb the corporate ladder and was content to a hard worker where he was and have time to be with the kids and not miss their childhoods.

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  7. You haven’t lost a sense of the remarkable, Wynne. That, by itself, seems to have enlarged your being. I am happy for you.

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    1. I’m sitting with your words, “That, by itself, seems to have enlarged your being.” What an expansive statement that I treasure. Thank you!

      By the way, did you get the email with attachment I sent about a week ago? No need to rush to respond – I just wanted to make sure it didn’t get caught in a SPAM filter.

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      1. Thank you, EW! I must confess – I lose my sense of the remarkable all the time. I’m just lucky enough to have people around like you, Dr. Stein and the rest of this community, in addition to my kids, to bring it back! 🙂

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  8. I love so much about this post, from looking through the sliding glass door, to recognizing the miracle of each other. When you strive for a more expansive view of life, you start to see the most important lessons come with the most difficult tasks. Parenting elevated my purpose in this world, selfish desires gave way to a more philanthropic approach, which is seeking the welfare of others. I have so much to think about after reading this! Brilliant as usual. Hugs, C

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    1. Oh, I love your statement that, “When you strive for a more expansive view of life, you start to see the most important lessons come with the most difficult tasks.” Yes, yes, yes!! We don’t earn those prizes easily, do we?

      I’m so grateful you popped in to read this, Cheryl. Love hearing your thoughts and what resonated with you! ❤

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  9. When our kids are small, our whole lives revolve around them. Every choice and every action is driven by what’s best for them. Then, in what seems like the blink of an eye, they are grown up and we get our lives back—all the richer for having the experience.

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    1. Wow, Michelle – your statement, “all the richer for having the experience” really strikes me. There are days that seem really long for me right now – but also ones where I get a glimpse of past or future like you’ve given me and it’s all so amazing and delightful. Thank you!

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  10. Another sensational, thought-provoking, introspection of your life! “Miss O in the lead hugging her stuffy close and three-year-old Mr. D seeking a little comfort by standing in the shadow of his sister and wearing his little dinosaur shorty pajamas.” – I would have melted at the glimpse of them!

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  11. What a sweet and lovely story, Wynne.

    You are a bigger person than I am. I would’ve been so annoyed T was still up. No heart melting over here. 😆 But I totally get the sentiment.

    Being a parent, especially when you’re going at it solo, is the hardest job on Earth. I don’t care if any CEO or President refutes that. While it does not come with the traditional markers of success, as you said, it does provide the best metrics of success when we look back at our life one day – whether it’s through a sliding door or through that final wall of light.

    We do give up so much for our kids, don’t we, like focused time for work and we often walk around with brain fog – but the rewards are so worth it.

    Today was a hectic day for me and this was nice grounding post to recenter myself. So thank you!

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    1. Well, don’t give me too much credit, Ab. I just said that I didn’t get irritated *this* time.

      Hardest job on Earth – I am totally with you on that. We do give up so much – and extend ourselves soooo far, don’t we? I love what Michelle said above – when they go, we get our lives back but “all the richer for it.” Which makes sense to me.

      Sorry about your hectic day. Hope you had a restful evening. Thanks for reading and commenting in the middle of all that, my friend! 🙂 ❤

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  12. This is the most beautiful and heartwarming testament to the power of choice. The choice of a life that’s right and wanted; the choice of priorities; the choice of how or how not to respond; the choice of gratitude and joy. Your wisdom and insight always add to my day, Wynne. Thank you! ❤️ Miss O and Mr. D are treasures, and so is their mother. Happy Mothers’ Day in advance 💖

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  13. Thanks, Wynne, for this beautifully written post that’s clearly blessed and challenged so many others… Reflecting myself… parenting, principles, people, priorities… Like you I started parenting (and grandparenting) with principles. The trouble is that people – and especially those that you care about the most – don’t always fit tidily into those principles… so priorities shift from rigid principles to more flexible compassion… Your example illustrates the challenges we all face. Thank you.

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