She asked: “But did you feel responsible for me when we were at the school potluck yesterday, even though my teacher was right there?” I answered her: “Yes.” And then I added, truthfully, “Beloved, I feel responsible for you even while you are at school, or at a friend's house, or even when you’re with Papa. Or next week when you’re back East, across the country from me, out of my sight, I will feel totally responsible for you, even while surrendering in trust to everyone who is watching over you, and more importantly, to the Great Mystery of life. I think I’ll feel responsible for you and Ezra for the rest of your lives! That’s just how a human parent feels on some level.” She paused before responding, considering this, and then said, astutely: “Don’t you mean you’ll feel responsible for the rest of YOUR life? Not necessarily for the rest of ours?” I chuckled at her correction, and said: “I guess yes, that is right, my love, for the rest of MY life.”
And then Ezra (5) piped in from the back, bringing his strong voice into the dialogue: “Actually, Mama, isn’t this true: That even after you are dead, you will still watch over us? Isn’t this true: that a mother who is in the heavens, back in the stars, will still find a way to come and kiss her children?” I was moved, my heart in my throat, to consider this notion of "still finding a way," and I replied quietly: “What do you feel Ezra?” And he said, confidently: “I feel YES, that is true.” I smiled and said: “Yes, I feel that’s true too.” And then I added: “I feel when we love each other so powerfully, like we do, we watch over each other, wherever we are, and whatever comes to pass. In our love we keep taking care of one another, one way or another, while also knowing that The Great Mother is taking care of us, the Mystery is watching over us, in all the ways the Mystery does.” And he said, “Yes.”
How beautiful, and how human, this notion of “feeling responsible” for one another, for our children’s safety and well-being. And yet how truly limited we are in what we are responsible for. How limited we are, truly, in what we can and cannot control. How to live this razor’s edge of truth: taking responsibility for ourselves, for the whole world, for our sweet Mother Earth, cleaning up the many messes we've made, while unburdening ourselves of the unnecessary weight we carry? I discover such heart tenderness in the place where human attachment and mature responsibility meets my sincere need to surrender it all, over and over again, back to Source, back to the Mystery, in whose hands it all ultimately lies.