The Women On My Journey
Rev. Melissa M. Bowers

To the women on my journey
Who showed me the ways to go and ways not to go,
Whose strength and compassion held up a torch of light
and beckoned me to follow,
Whose weakness and ignorance darkened the path and encouraged me
to turn another way.

To the women on my journey
Who showed me how to love and how not to live,
Whose grace, success and gratitude lifted me into the fullness
of surrender to God,
Whose bitterness, envy and wasted gifts warned me away
from the emptiness of self-will

To the women on my journey
Who showed me what I am and what I am not,
Whose love, encouragement and confidence held me tenderly
and nudged me gently,
Whose judgement, disappointment and lack of faith called me
to deeper levels of commitment and resolve.

To the women on my journey who taught me love
by means of both darkness and light.

Most parents nowadays are facing this similar challenge and are guilty of not spending enough quality time with their children. In a highly competitive society like Singapore, a lot time both parents are working and their children are either left to the care of grandparents (who are the more fortunate one like my siblings and I) or domestic helper.

As much as I believe that it is important for parents to be working hard to provide for the family, it is equally important for parents to spend quality time with their children and to be there for them.

Reading the column reminds me of a meeting I had with a friend last year. While giving him a ride home, I sensed his weariness and asked him about it. He shared about his new appointment at work; he was given a role to manage projects and some junior staffs. With the new appointment and responsibility, he not only had to work late almost everyday to fulfill endless deadlines but also had to spend time to guide the junior staffs. Even at home, he often had to reply to time critical email; ignoring the email could hold up the whole production.

As a result of his new appointment, he was always tired and did not have the energy to spend time with his new born daughter. He told me the feeling sucked. It was clear that his top priority is his family but his work was keeping him from doing what is important to him. It was no wonder his positive energy was all drained and he appeared so tired, not only physically but also mentally. Good thing he realised what is his priority and making change.

I believe that most people realised the important to attain work-life balance but most are being thrown into the same situation as my friend. As what the columnist wrote, “The hard part of course, is putting realisation into practice.” A message from a fridge magnet given to the columnist, which I found very true, “This is how kids spell ‘love’ – ‘T.I.M.E’.” Children will not understand “…we’re too busy trying to make sure our children have the luxuries we never had.” To them, ‘love’ is us spending quality time with them and always being there for them.

I believe when you read the speech by Mary Schmich below, you would be able to relate to some of the things she had written just like I did and hope that you will enjoy reading this speech as much as I did too.

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ’97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-old I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.