It took me a while to want to be a mom. Then one day an older friend of mine, Erika, asked me why my husband and I hadn’t had children. I gave her my stock answer. She frowned and shook her head. Then she said something I will never forget: “You don’t have children for you. You have children for the world. You and Chuck would raise good people, people who could help others. That’s why you have children.”  

I wasn’t so sure we could raise good people. I knew how tricky that was. But, besides that, I knew she was right. Soon after we had our first child, a boy. And then another. Sure enough, they are good people.

As I look back on that moment I realize she could have said what she did about almost anything I was hesitating over: changing jobs; forgiving someone; creating anything.

One of my favorite authors these days is David Brooks and I am reading his newest offering, “The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life.” He points out that a self-centered life needs to be replaced with an “other-centered” life in order for us to find true meaning and, thereby, true joy. But, becoming other-centered is not exclusive to motherhood. In fact, I know parents who become more self -centered after having kids, they just widen their circle and pull the kids inside. The true joy in anything is just what my friend counseled; our personal good needs to bless those we may not even know, or we discover its shallowness now or later.

Take teaching as an example: The work of a teacher is essentially unselfish but if it is done to gratify ego or a thirst for power it gets twisted and becomes essentially self serving. I guess any work can be either noble or reprehensible, depending on our motives and ability to follow through.

We also stand on the shoulders of our own parents, for good or ill. I remember a childhood friend whose parents were both alcoholics and chain smokers. She hated both alcohol and cigarettes and never touched them. She knew what they could do to a family. But more often we learn from the good in our childhood. The times we want to recreate for our own kids, or in our lives in other ways. The moments of forgiveness, of unconditional love, of feeling safe and valued. And we can all do that. Every day.

A dear friend of mine recently lost her husband. As she was telling me what she was planning to do with her life now she kept going back to her two grown children, wanting them to heal and be happy again after losing their dad. I was struck with her concern for them, with how visceral it was. It transcended her concern for herself. It was “other-centered.”

One of the only concepts I took out of my economics courses is the difference between micro and macro processes. I believe that, in matters of the heart and soul the micro expressions of love both come from and add up to the macro sum of love. That all we can really do is hug that kid and say you know they’ll do better next time. Or help that old lady out to the car with her groceries (we will all be the recipient of that kind of care some day). Or value a co-worker enough to listen to their side of a disagreement. That’s all we’ve got in our power to do and, maybe, that’s enough.

So, like my friend Erika who raised two wonderful daughters of her own, we can do whatever we do with an inner desire that it be of service to others. A blessing that can be shared generously, happily, and freely.

Happy Mother’s Day.