The Value of a Blank Slate
One of the attractions in gazing at a newborn baby is seeing the limitless in their possibilities. And the fun of taking any small act and blowing it up into giddy speculation, highly improbable, but impossible to disprove. The baby has a strong kick–––future World Cup striker. The baby finds its thumb a few days before the books say they should–––future winner of a MacArthur Genius grant. A very close friend has a baby around the same time–––possible future marriage, let the dowry negotiations begin.
As I’m spending time with my new grandson, I don’t have any of these thoughts. It’s my mind that becomes a blank. My smile is irrepressible as I gently, gently stroke the so-soft top of his head. That’s the limit of the sensory input my mind can handle. He’s kryptonite to my brain, and the opposite of kryptonite to my heart.
Of course the logical part of me knows that a pure blank slate is an illusion. There’s genetics and there’s the condition and make-up of the family into which any baby is born. And eventually choices must be made to go down certain paths that will, at least temporarily, close off other paths. And that’s both inevitable and necessary.
As we get older, our “slates” inevitably get covered with the scrawl of what we’ve done, where we’ve been, who we’ve encountered and been influenced by, and, most of all, who we’ve loved in the past and who we love now. Sometimes our slate can appear like the thickest and wildest Pollack drip painting, random in the extreme. At other times, our slate can seem to have coherence, like a Pointillist painting by Seurat viewed from a distance, but close-up revealed as a series of incomprehensible miniature dashes of color.
That said, when we embark on any new adventure, whether a trip, a friendship, a work of art, or a new career, we enjoy within the confines of that particular adventure some element of a blank slate opportunity. I think of my younger brother, for example, who writes novels. Before he settles on his first sentence or even his title, his novels are blank slates. (I recommend his excellent first one, “Bar Maid.”)
As newly created grandparents, my wife and I begin with a blank slate, both in relation to our grandson and in relation to our daughter and son-in-law as new parents. At the same time, I have started a new role serving as a fiscal policy advisor. Both of my new roles, both of my new adventures, are exciting and invigorating. And any early mistakes I’ve made in either role have yet to be revealed to me.
In the course of a life, you don’t get unlimited chances at a blank slate. And if you think about it, the more life experience you’ve had and the older you are, the more you’re able to take advantage of a blank slate, which makes them all the more precious.
It is true that we get a limited number of blank slates, but as we get older we bring a fuller and more nuanced palette to the blank slates we encounter, and we increased knowledge of texture and understanding, and subtle shadows where we once saw only light and dark. To our benefit, we carry all this with us and, as opportunity presents itself, we have all this to share.
My grandmother, at age 90, had not yet met my wife. My mother and aunt were concerned that their mother would have difficulty dealing with my having married a black woman. I had no such fear, fully confident in the relationship I had with my grandmother but I had to abide by my mother's wishes and wait. When the moment came, my grandmother stood up and welcomed my wife with open arms without a moment's hesitation. In fact, she ignore me in that moment. Me, her favorite grandchild. I so enjoyed being ignored and seeing my wife and grandmother make their own instant connection. How could that have happened as it did? Aside from the relationship she had with me, I think we reach a point in our later years when we find some new understanding about what matters in life. Being a grandparent can change that in a new heartbeat.
I really enjoyed this and frequently stopped to ponder about all the "firsts" that one experiences only once. I also paused to think about the idea of a "blank slate" and how the ability to have or create one can be totally in our hands. Makes me want to be brave and venture into the unknown in my career and life.
Loving this David, thank you for sharing it with us all.