They never told us we’d live like our parents

I’m listening to “Symphony #1, 4th Movement” by Buckley Mills, one of the most talented of all the talented musicians to come from our hometown of Sioux City, Iowa.

My creation comes from suffering — my own and other people’s that I observe and explore with them. But the bottom of the pit seems to be the farthest down for those who lived well as youngsters, who had (what seemed like) it all, who could have should have done anything with their lives, but the market wasn’t there for what they did, or a relationship or job didn’t work out. It’s not a lack of resilience or a back up plan — though backup plans can be soulless wonders.

What we have to realize is that while we cannot have the security and comfort our parents had, we have a charge to take more risks, to do greater, to do and be and feel and notice and reach out to more.

We can join the generations before and after us and become the generation on fire, in spite of the miscommunications. In spite of the broken families that raised us and affect our relationships today as our parents become splintered grandparents and great grandparents, as our children don’t know what it’s like to be together, one and all.