The weather turned today. Suddenly and definitely. A mess of clouds, nascent gusts of wind, and the tentative entry of rain falling heavily at times made a pretty convincing argument about fall being here. I managed to make it to the Oakland airport before the weather came n to steal the show, which meant that my younger son, home from Boston for a surprise weekend visit, had a somewhat less neurotic mother gripping the wheels as we whizzed passed all those rumbling trucks on I 880.
On the way home, once we hit old familiar ground, the San Rafael-Richmond bridge, he shared the reason for his visit, and all was well, in spite of the rain, and change of season, and all manner of gusts sweeping through. Lucky for him, too, that in one of my latest yoga workshop, we have undertaken the practice of NOT giving any advice to anyone for the next few weeks.
Most parents take the dispensation of advice as a "birth" right, but most children will hear a note of disapproval and the constant of criticism in what parents assume is meant to save their kids from grief. But we can't save our kids from grief. And we shouldn't want to; because that would be holding them back from life. In the end, all we can do is to listen -- to really listen.
So, this weekend, as the rain beats down on the resistant roof, as the wind fills the hollows, I will listen. I will try to really listen.





