Permission to Grow

My daughter just turned 14, and I remember that age. We are not the same. She is more mature, thoughtful, compassionate, and grounded than I ever was, but I still remember. It was a time when I really needed my mom, and although we spent time together, I don’t think we ever really identified what my need truly was. My husband is intentional about initiating moments for us to stay connected, and those moments have been extremely impactful. When we spend time with one another, it allows me to get a little peak into how she thinks and views the world.

A couple of weekends ago we attended some vendor events together. It wasn’t to connect with people, build my business, or increase awareness. It was just a moment for us to get out of the house and do something different. The husband grabbed the tickets for our first stop, the Lawn and Garden expo in Waxahachie. For a 14-year-old, this stop was not that enjoyable. I stopped at almost every table engaging with vendors and asking questions. I am always looking for ways to connect people with resources, and sometimes opportunities are in unexpected places.

When I talked too long, my daughter discretely leaned in and touched my elbow to show me she was ready to move on. As a mother, do you all know what I did? I ignored her.  I took my time, and I wasn’t going to allow teen impatience to distract or rush me. There were a good number of vendors that were above age 60. They spoke slowly and passionately about the organizations they volunteered for and the impact within the community. I could see they felt valued and heard, and I patiently waited for them to finish, some adding details that weren’t necessarily relevant to elongate the conversation. After the second table, she realized she had no influence on how quickly I moved so she relented, and we left not long after.

Our second stop was the Historic Downtown Lancaster Square, which was the stop she was looking forward to. There was a She Blooms vendor market with items ranging from home décor, body butters, and sweet treats to community wineries and gardens. This was more her speed, but again I stopped and spoke to vendors even if I knew I wasn’t going to purchase anything. Slowly my daughter’s energy transitioned from rushing, to settling in the moment and taking in the scenery. She ran into kids from school, a couple of creatives she met from interning over the summer, and we even found some items she was needing to complete her look for her upcoming dance.

For me, the most impactful interactions were the unexpected connections with women with similar interests. We were passionate about writing, community, and women, something I would not have known had I rushed through conversations. I met this sweet woman who was there to support her sister as a vendor. She was again over 60 and talking about how she wanted to feel young, pointing to her grey hairs. I told her you are young, and someone else chimed in and said, young is a state of mind. She began talking about purpose, how she just wanted to do something. I asked her what, and she said she was not sure; she just wanted to help her family and make an impact.

I felt a need to grab my book, and I explained to her that you are never too old to start pursuing purpose. I gave it to her, and I told her maybe it could be a tool on her journey to finding what her something was. She hugged that book like I gave her a prized possession and I smiled and cried on the inside. Within an hour I had met a group of people in that same age group that had passion and light behind their eyes because in their stage of life they had found their something. Within 15 miles, there was a woman that was present, supporting someone else, but needed encouragement to find something for her herself.

My daughter and I grabbed an Italian ice from one of the vendors, and we sat down to take in the day and prepare to go home. My daughter started talking. “I understand now why you weren’t in a hurry. You took the time to talk to those people, and you were so nice to them. I kind of feel bad because some of them tried to make conversation, and I was short with them.  I really appreciate you and how you show me things. Some girls (she named a few), don’t have moms at home that are willing to spend time with them and teach them things. We wouldn’t have known all the things we learned today if you weren’t patient enough to listen and just talk to them. You are an introvert, and most introverts don’t like people. Mom, you really have a heart for people. That’s all.”

We sat in silence for a little while, and in those moments, I usually add words, but I felt like the moment was an unexpected teacher. I started the day intentionally not rushing. I did not expect any of the rewards of that patience, but it made me think about what I would have missed if I entered any of those spaces impatient, rushing, or not present. Several people apologized for taking up too much of my time that day, and I reassured them that I was not in a rush and that I appreciated them speaking with me. How often are we in such a hurry, that we miss moments to connect?

As I reflect on that day, I am grateful. I find myself moving through days quickly, checking the boxes and trying to get things done. That day was a reminder of my why, and I had no intention of sharing about the Mom Dreams group or my book. I did not realize how much this has become a part of my identity, and that’s a good thing. Purpose moments will always find you if that’s where your heart is. I share teachable moments with my daughter all the time, but I know, because she initiated conversation about it, this lesson took root. I did not start the day with an expectation that my daughter would observe my heart for people and be inspired by it. It makes my heart smile because the unexpected gifts are typically the most impactful.

I think we both grew a little. I saw in real time how my actions can have more impact than my words. When my daughter rushed me, I didn’t fuss or get angry, I just made a decision, and by the end of the day she understood why. I also learned the importance of being prepared. I may blog and have events throughout the year, but Mom Dreams is a movement. There will always be a woman, mother, or entrepreneur that needs encouragement, resources, and connection. My daughter learned that what seems like unnecessary interaction and conversation can lead to opportunity and a need being met. Whatever she pursues, I hope it is centered around passion, purpose, and impact. In those moments, she learned why that is important.

Growth moments are happening arounds us all the time, and whether we view them as small or large, they are important. Permission to grow means acknowledging where we were and where we are now. Growth is incremental, and it happens when we are intentional. We must be intentional about our purpose, goals, impact, and authentic connection. We must be able to recognize when we are looking at a situation through the incorrect lens, or when we are being selfish, self-absorbed, or inconsiderate of others. Through that same lens, we must also see what we have to offer as valuable. Every gift and talent has a purpose, and when we stick to it long enough and willingly share it, we learn exactly what it is.

We have permission to explore those spaces, and have dialogue about the things we think we know and the things we do not understand. We have permission to be impatient because if we pay attention, we will find the lesson in our need to get to the next thing. We have permission to change, evolve, and grow. Anything that isn't growing is dead, and I have no desire to visit, live in, or create in dead places. Permission is a movement, and we are moving together.