the arrow and the bow

My friend Bear sent me this poem from Kahil Gabran today:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

This was my second message today that The Oldest s journey is not my journey. I have tried to be clear here that what I am telling is my story - I am self-aware enough to know that my perspective is not the only truth of a situation.

I also know that it's time to do a some letting go. This is my story, and I will continue to tell it. And with time and practice it will be less about what I want The Oldest to do and be, and more about my recovery from years of enabling him.