Before I became a parent, the future belonged mostly to me.
I could envision it through my plans, decisions, successes, and failures. Even the risks I took were, above all, mine. If I made a mistake, I thought, I would bear the consequences.
With the arrival of my child, the future didn’t become more certain. It became much more real.
Suddenly, I no longer measure time solely by what I still want to accomplish. I also measure it by the world in which she will grow up, the values she will come to know, and what she will learn about life by watching me long before she understands my words.
Parenthood doesn’t supply all the answers; instead, it poses questions you never knew to ask.
What kind of example am I setting while I think I’m just living my life? Which of my habits will she one day consider normal? Will she learn from my decisions to be free, or just to be cautious?
I’ve also realized that a child doesn’t just inherit what we leave them materially. They inherit the way we treated people, what we allowed, what we remained silent about, and the way we carried our own fears.
I used to view the future as a place I had to reach.
Today I also see it as something that will continue to exist after my decisions.
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