What I can see is dwarfed by what I cannot see.
I comprehend this in theory, at least.
There was a time when I was a novice mom, maybe 8 years in, when I wanted to bestow my experience on younger mothers. I had so much to give. Occasions arrived where I could lead a workshop at a La Leche League Conference, or Homeschool Gathering. It contributed to my own growth, to expound on sibling tussles, and the blessings of breastfeeding. Looking back I feel a tad presumptuous. I barely knew what I was doing.
I'll grant you that it can increase relevance to hear from someone only a few steps beyond where you stand. Things grow more vague over decades. Plus the added dangers of memory loss, and the inevitable embellishments that fluff up an ordinary story, render me reluctant to claim proficiency at all.
It's not that I am averse to mingling generations. Marriage mentor quartets are by definition two couples at different stages in their relationship. But the intent is not to proffer answers to those slippery questions we find ourselves in. Rather it is to extend breathing evidence that someone survived the early years.
As I slow down my pace it seems obvious that the expanse of my wisdom is dwarfed by the awareness of how much I do not know.
