In a place rarely spoken, peace and passion meld.
There passion roars not with eyes only for itself and its fierce drive toward fulfilling a goal.
There peace sits not in a comfortable chair watching from the side while the real action of life happens.
In this place, feet stand firm and arms reach.
Hearts grow roots and eyes look up.
In my past, passion was usually pursuit full-force, jets blazing in fiery orange. This, often followed by great frustration and feelings of failure when I nearly burnt myself out, small embers glowing weakly.
Peace was often a gift like mist, felt in rare moments when I could truly be still, release and receive the presence of God. Too often for me peace sat off in the distance from where I lived, with all my processing, striving and feeling.
Lately, I am learning that passion and peace are not so far away from one another as I’d feared. I learn as I watch my six-year-old J and her places quiet, deep.
J often holds a straight expression (unlike her mama, the ever-frequent smiler), and she rarely squeals, yells or draws much attention to herself. She is not joyless, by any means, but overall what operates within J is her own brand of calm.
Lately, I’m seeing that under the calm, J possesses what I can best describe as a knowing — a kind of commitment without fanfare or large pronouncement.
Our second-born girl adores animals of every kind. Each time she visits the school library, she leaves with one or more animal books — an adventure of Biscuit (the puppy), an owner’s manual for domestic cats or a book about panda bears.
Every sharing day from kindergarten through the middle of first grade, J has brought from home either a stuffed “friend” or a book about animals.
This week, she proudly carried to school a hardbound collection of stories by James Herriot, the author of All Creatures Great and Small, who worked for many years as a veterinarian in the English countryside.
J pours over every page of that book and the vet’s tender experiences caring for cows, horses, dogs and cats.
From the time she could talk, J made exuberant animal noises and eagerly embarked on “kitty and doggy hunts” with me on the way to and from big sister’s school.
“O–oh,” she says, tilting her head when she sees a baby animal now. “O–oh,” she says when a cat darts across her path.
Many days after school, J dons her vet “scrubs” and lines up stuffed animals and animal figures dressed in appropriate clothing, taking their temperatures and addressing their maladies calmly, one by one.
Recently, we watched dear Henry, a gentle, blind, yellow lab, while our family traveled. During the nine days he shared our home, J happily took Henry outside, brought him toys, fed and brushed him, generally adored him.
When Henry had a series of seizures several days into his visit, I took the girls upstairs while Michael stayed with Henry.
J remained steady. She spoke calmly and clearly to me about what was happening and her belief that Henry would be just fine.
I pointed out to J that, like a veterinarian, she did not panic in a frightening situation. Neither did she shy away from seeing Henry right after his seizures.
I told her I thought she had a great temperament for veterinary work.
J, who rarely looks ahead too much to anything besides her birthday and Christmas, said, “Yeah, I’m not sure if I should study large animals first, like a country vet, or smaller animals, like a city vet.”
She continued, “They’re really different, you know, but I think it’s probably good to know both.”
This summer, J will attend camp with two friends, learning how to work on a farm, ride a horse and care for a variety of animals. We couldn’t be more thrilled.
Our girl knows she’s made to love and tend to ones with fur and feathers. It’s clear.
It is passion of a different sort. No whirring. No racing. No striving. No orange flames.
Instead, her passion is a mountain lake of calm, deep.
Sometimes we need the fire brand of passion. It can inspire and push us forward.
But sometimes we need to know the peace passion — the kind infused with a knowing, quiet trust.
This kind of passion, I am still learning.
J is my teacher.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
J herself is a creature Great and small! How beautifully you told her story Ashley!! Who cannot Adore this girl after reading it? J is just as you describe her, a small one with a deep and big calm-filled knowing. And a positively bottomless love of animals – from farm to city – and the sense to know how very good it will be to know both. (and I have to say Ashley, your own deep knowing of your children will be one of their most enduring blessings!)
Thank you, Mama. I love what you say about J. She is such a treasure, and I’m so glad you know her like you do. :)
What a wonderful description of your dear little one, Ashley. Isn’t it amazing what our children can teach us? Each day is a new opportunity to learn. Thank you for sharing such a sweet tale about J’s very gentle spirit. It will be fun to see where this passion takes her. Oh, and that camp sounds fabulous (wherever did you find it?!
So much to learn, Katie! And I find it challenging to remember to LET myself be taught — I’ve much growing to do in that. The farm experience sounds incredible. It came highly recommended from a friend. You can find out more about it at http://www.oldmcdonaldsfarm.org. Sending love!
And how wonderful for you to know to take the time to let her teach – sometimes I think I needed grandchildren before I was fully able to slow down enough to focus attention on what each child has to offer…even though I “thought” I was doing it with my kids when they were little.
Oh, Martha, it’s something I’m definitely “in process” on. You are so right about that slowing to receive. I think when I’m rushing through mothering, I think of only myself as teacher, them as students. Thank you for sharing your wisdom.
Oh Ashley, this piece is another treasured one as you share the depth of your little J and her love for animals…I love to hear how you continue to learn from each of your girls and it makes me realize how I can learn from my kids as they grow! Horse back riding and caring for animals was mine and my sister Lydia’s childhood, and what an experience of growth it was! Definately encourage and support J’s passion for that as best you can while living in the city. :)
Thank you, Becca. I love the example of you and Lydia and am encouraged by your words! I know you both still have a beautiful love of animals — that forms you and follows you through life. :)
Love this glimpse into j’s spirit, her tenderness and her passion. I love this notion of peace passion propelling us onward. J is my teacher too. Oh and thank you for the most loving, tender and thoughtful care of our precious Henry-you all are amazing!!
Thank you, Sis. It is so good for me to remember that in those times I don’t feel hugely “inspired,” there is something operating underneath that is good, constant, unchanging. That seems a lot like peace. We are always so OVERJOYED to take care of Henry boy. We love you!
I love how mothers can learn so much from our children. Beautifully observed today, your daughter seems so sweet. I loved reading my class James Herriot’s books!
Thanks so much, Smidge. My J is a sweetheart. Oh, you know James Herriot too! Isn’t he wonderful?
Love this piece on J, we can learn so much from them. She truly will be a fantastic vet with her passion and calmness. Who knows she may be a writer also ,telling us stories about her experiences as a vet.
Wow. Wouldn’t that make me proud, too! :)
Saved my first bug (beetle) of the year…was laying on its back, looking for help. J will make a marvelous and compassionate Vet. She possesses the animal protection gene. Pet owners in the future will be blessed. I am so proud of her as we share the same passion for animals. Woof!
Such a dear part of you, Papa. I remember so many spiders journeying to safety in Tupperware containers — thanks to you. Woof woof to the animal protection gene that you and J share! :)
I love how you wrote about peace & passion through the description of your precious daughter. It was beautiful. I will picture her now as examples of peace, and passion – endearing & heartwarming, Ashley :)
Thank you so much, Deb. It is so good for me to have J as an example of a different way of passion. I am grateful for the ways God helped me see this in my precious girl.
love the way you so precisely articulate your daughters:) it must be grand to look into them and see things growing that god has placed there. your messages about mothering are a blessing to me, because you let me see just a sliver, i am learning bit by bit. thanks for letting us all in on your journey. i too long for that balance of passion and peac, i’ll need your help:)
Thank you so much, Rachel. It is a daily miracle to seem each of them unfolding. I’m trying with all I’ve got to notice and help nurture them through all the ins and outs of who they’ve been created to be. I’ve got so much to learn. Let’s teach each other. :)
Ern and I spent the morning reading your blog. We loved every single one of
your writings. What a talent you have. Truly blessed.
Val
Oh, Val, thank you! I so appreciate your comments. I hope to see you back here again sometime. :)