deciding, 2

My no outcome, no future, just yes or no in the moment experiment is being put to a tough test right now.

Yesterday my daughter and her friend wanted to go to the mall. Normally, I just take a break from whatever I'm doing and drive them, but yesterday, I didn't want to.

I double checked internally - is this a firm No or can it be shifted? It was firm. So I told her I didn't want to drive, and suggested maybe it was a good day for them to learn how to take the city bus.

We got online and checked the maps and schedule. The stop is only a block from our house, so that was easy. We had driven past the stop at the mall many times, so that was easy, too. They set off a bit nervously, exact change in hand, and planned to be back by seven. I returned to my project.

At six, she texted me to ask if I would just pick them up. I checked in with myself again - yes or no? Still No. I told her I still didn't want to drive, and asked if she could dig deep and just take the bus back home.

At 6:30, my phone rang. "He dropped us off in the middle of nowhere." I feel panic rising up in my throat, but I keep my voice low and calm. "Okay, honey, look around. What do you see?" We quickly determine that they took the southbound, not the northbound, and have ended up at the Park 'n Ride the next town over.

She wants me to come pick them up. I check in with myself a third time, and am somewhat dismayed to find it is STILL a No. Part of me says maybe it's important not to rush to her rescue; that she will gain confidence by figuring out how to use the bus system to get home.

So, mustering every ounce of maternal determination, I tell her I will try, by phone, to help her read the schedule that is posted at the bus stop. She is angry and scared, and I can tell she's on the verge of tears. I convey my confidence that they can figure this out, and she hangs up before I've quite finished my last sentence.

I texted her fifteen minutes later to see if they'd made it onto a bus, and received a terse Yes in response. When they finally arrived at home, I was on the phone with a client. My daughter grabbed her sleepover stuff and left before I could connect with her, so I called to see how it went.

A narrative of public transportation hell followed:

- Three different busdrivers had been too annoyed or busy to help them, and she and her friend did not know who else to trust.

- A group of older men remained at the stop in the middle of nowhere after everyone else had left, and sat there smoking and leering at them. She and her friend were trying to figure out where they would run to if they needed to escape, and decided there was nowhere to go.

- When the bus finally came, the girls jumped on with relief and the driver promptly exited to take a ten minute break, leaving them alone with a mentally ill woman who sat across from them saying things like, "There's no food in the house, so we'll have to kill Anne's mother." I must admit I was kinda impressed with this woman's resourcefulness, but my daughter was not amused. Instead she broke down into tears as she was telling me about it and sobbed, "Mom, it was all just too much for me. I never want to ride the bus again. I wish you would have just come and picked us up when I asked you."

Ouch. I heard the voice of guilt, muttering and pacing near the door of my heart, waiting for an invitation to come in. Why didn't you just go get them? Look what your laziness caused! You should have known they were too young to handle this. What if they'd been kidnapped or raped? What kind of mother are you? You left them out there alone and scared! They were easy prey!

I checked back over the preceding events, asking myself if I had ignored any inner promptings that told me to go pick them up, and I truly had not. I had played my part, reading only the lines that were in my heart in each moment, and since I did not have access to the whole script, I do not know why it needed to go that way or what greater purpose it served.

So maybe after sleeping on it, my daughter and her friend will find the humor in the situation. Maybe the fear of what could have happened will dissipate a bit and they will feel some confidence in how they handled things.

Or maybe they will be furious and blame the whole mess on me because I did not pick them up! I don't know, and that's okay, because I don't need to know. I feel strangely confident that I can navigate it as it comes up, and it will all turn out okay in the end. I wonder if maybe this is how it feels to trust Life?

postscript, 3 pm: just finally connected with my daughter today, and asked if she had recovered. she said in the most casual way - Mom, it's almost like it never even happened. It was so bad yesterday, and today, it's nothing. But I'm still not excited about riding the bus. Thank goodness she seems to have inherited my selective memory! So it all did turn out okay in the end. Plus, my colleague gave me some great suggestions for how to debrief the girls in a way that helps them to give themselves proper credit for how resourceful they were under stress. It's all good.

post postscript, a week later: The girls just took the bus to the mall. It was their idea. They did fine even though they had to figure out some scheduling stuff on the fly, and the whole thing was no big deal. No tears, no drama, no trauma. I'm relieved that it came full circle so quickly and painlessly.

Note to self: The yes-or-no-in-the-moment method of decision making still seems to be a good one.