Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, July 4, 1990 TAG: 9007050182
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-8 EDITION: HOLIDAY
SOURCE: JOAN ALBERT
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
For myself, I am striving for this independence from others' opinions. It is part of the challenge of growing up and living in a world where the boundaries of dependence, independence and interdependence are murky and often overlap. Can we live in these gray areas and are we ever truly independent?
I often feel twinges of independence at trivial moments. Checking cantaloupes for ripeness or taking my own temperature makes me feel an acute sense of responsibility. These were things my mother always did for me, and now as an adult I am doing them for myself.
Independence for me starts in a small way. It is taking the time to read the map on the bike trip, even though I'd rather be led, or heeding the strange sounds in my car and taking it to the mechanic. The bathroom floor won't get cleaned up, the article won't get written, the stomach doesn't get flatter, unless we just do it. Simple, but when I do, I feel a sense of accomplishment and self-sufficiency that strengthens me to combat the next bout of those "I don't wanna do it" blues.
My 87-year-old grandmother, still strong-minded but in ailing health, lives in a nursing home, which means a loss of some of her independence. However, in her own stubborn way she still manages to exert some control over her life. "Yes, I'll go to bingo today, no, I don't want to go to the evening music program tonight," she says. Although I feel sad that her choices have diminished, at least she can make some independent choices.
My other grandmother is on her own in a one-bedroom apartment. She endures the usual aches and pains of old age, but is able to manage the basic necessities of daily life. Often, though, she gets overwhelmed with her independence - the cooking, the cleaning, the shopping all seem too much for her.
She's actually lucky, but doesn't feel it. Cooking the chicken for dinner may seem like a struggle, but imagine what some of those nursing-home residents would give to be back in their familiar kitchens, basting the bird.
To her, independence is simple. It means not having to rely on a friend to drive her to her weekly mah-jongg game. She cherishes this ability to drive, yet sometimes bemoans having to pick up everyone else in her circle. Yes, independence has its price - independent people usually get depended on.
Life brings us too many times when we are dependent on another's approval. We wait anxiously to hear the verdict on the mortgage application, acceptance of a toddler into a coveted day-care center, college admission.
Too often, though, we dismiss our own small declarations of independence. Saying no to one too many demands from our children or sending a resume to a place where we have always wanted to work are occasions for real celebrations. So are buying a shirt we love, despite sensing others will hate it, or choosing first what to eat in a restaurant, rather than waiting for the lead from our companions. We should celebrate these declarations of independence with the same energy that accompanies the rockets and flares set off on the Fourth. Independence was worth fighting for back in 1775. It's still worthwhile in 1990.
My friend Steve is an Englishman who 10 years ago packed four suitcases and left his home country to find his fortune in the United States. He has since started his own computer consulting business, bought his own house, traveled to Australia on his own and is forever seeking new adventures and challenges in his life. "Everyone is responsible for their own history," he says. It used to be that fear of failure was his strongest drive. Now he says, "Life is full of only successes and lessons."
His philosophy is best summed up by his wry observation of humankind: "There are three kinds of people in the world - those who make it happen, those who watch it happen and those who say, `What happened?' I want to be a person who makes things happen."
Thirty-five and wise, who could be more independent than Steve? Yet, he acknowledges the need for a close, intimate relationship in his life. He doesn't have one yet. Some things you just can't control.
Then there's Jennie. She is a savvy woman of the '90s who has raised four children since 1960. She has this wonderful plan worked out with her husband where his paycheck gets deposited in her checking account and she takes care of all the bills. Is she dependent on her husband? Yes, but it's not for solely financial reasons. And he needs her, too, and it's not for just emotional reasons. Their dependency is really interdependency and it works on many levels, providing them with good times, nurturing, caring and closeness.
As social animals, we shouldn't be afraid to acknowledge this instinctual need for other people. Babies left unattended for lengthy periods fail to flourish, adults kept in isolation start to hallucinate. We need to make connections with each other, to feel the weight of one human hand on our shoulder, while at the same time feeling a resting spot for our own hand on the next shoulder.
Tomorrow I'm going biking with some friends. I'm bringing the water bottle and the bungie cords to tie up the bikes. I'm sharing a ride with Lisa, since she's got the truck, and Heather's going to lead since she's fastest and knows the route. But I'm going to help read the map. I want to know how far I've come and where I'm going.
by CNB