Girls gone wild?

Our youngest went and started college this fall. Within three weeks, she had gotten the idea that gravity does not apply to her or that she has suddenly developed aerodynamic tendencies that will allow her to abandon perfectly good airplanes and plummet to earth without getting hurt. During a visit and an evening out to eat, she informs me that she "is going sky diving tomorrow". I had been warned but still after hearing it come out of her mouth I wondered why she could not have informed me after the fact. But there it was. "I'm going sky diving." It all turned out okay. Gravity still exists. And you can partially overcome the affects of gravity by creating enough wind resistance from certain light weight rip resistant fabrics. And by all accounts it was a fun and exhilarating experience.

My daughter is no dummy. In a few years, she will be a college graduate, and in a testament to that innate intelligence and the marketing skills that she learned from running a farm market during her formative years, she purchased the video because "you all wouldn't believe me" and "a picture is worth a thousand words." Then, she posted it to facebook and let the comments roll in.

And roll in they did; "u go gurl", "omg; my heart was in my throat the whole time", "you officially rock. you are who I want to be when I grow up," "next time jump over a cemetery and eliminate the middle man," (mine). Which generated a comment to me about writing about a wild daughter's first few weeks of college.

I have been silent to that idea until now. Wild? My daughter? What tone do I take? Is it to be a tone of admonishment? Praise? How do I feel about a wild daughter? What is my role as commentator on wild daughters?

Every time I have thought about all of these questions ( and all of the similar questions brought about by my son), I have been transported to an office looking out a large window on a gray day the spring after my father died in a farming accident. Twenty-nine, I was agonizing on what road to take with a friend. Do I go back to the farm, or do I stay here? I wonder what my father would suggest. Grieving that he had been taken away just as those suggestions would be welcomed again. That friend said "I never met your father but knowing you, I know that he spent every waking moment of his fatherhood training you to be independent. Independent enough for this day." That gift from Lee made all of the difference and provided a touchstone for every parental decision that my wife and I worked out.

From that touchstone, I say. Wild? I hope so. Do you know what my daughter wants to do some day? End human trafficking. An estimated 27 million people world wide are slaves. She had better be wild. Wild. WILD!

In watching that video, everybody sees so many different things; Fear, Excitement, Anxiety, Exhilaration. This is what I see. At the very beginning of jump, when the door is open and she is sitting on the floor of the plane with her feet out the door two miles above the ground, she is leaning back as far as she can. I see someone who is uncomfortable with where they are at but getting as close to it as situation requires. Leaning back but not backing away. What beauty, strength, wildness. Taking a look at the situation, facing all of the voices of caution that I must confess that I helped put into her head, counting the cost and then answering the call.

No. The door to that plane will probably be the most defined challenge she will have to face in the call of her life's arc. There will be many more that produce all of the aforementioned feelings and more with much less evidence as to the success of the outcome on hand. That wildness will provide the ability to accept those feelings as feelings and let go and answer the call.

What do I say about a wild daughter's first weeks at college?

Ger
      on
          im
             ooooo!