What do I hope for my son? That is a good question.

Our baby boy is now two weeks old, and he is quickly gaining weight, strength, and personality. The funniest times are when I am trying to change his diaper, and he is flailing all of his limbs in all directions like one of the puppets from Team America World Police. We are already doing the “He is the cutest baby in the world… look at how strong he is… look at how calm he is… etc.” type of stuff that parents do. Everyone thinks that their baby is the best. It got me thinking about some of the children I have taught, and how their parents might feel about them. I know that all parents love their children. But I wonder what it is like when parents start to notice that their child isn’t making certain developmental milestones. Like, if a child does not develop their speech on a typical timeline. Or if they struggle with physical strength and co-ordination. I have seen many 4-year-olds who are very behind the typical development curves. (And the percentage of such students appears to be growing every year.) For such parents, they must have more reasonable hopes for their children. Maybe they hope that their child will be able to live independently, have a job, have friends, have a romantic partner, and or be able to look after themselves once their parents are gone. It must be heart wrenching for parents to stare-down such worries. I can’t imagine bringing a child into the world, falling completely in love with them, and then realizing that they will need help all their lives. It would be hard not to worry about what would happen to them after I die. I have much more respect and sympathy for such parents (and their children) now than I did before our little guy was born.

Our little guy appears, so far, to be destined for typical development. In fact, I’d say that he seems particularly calm, collected, and reflective. But there I go again thinking that my kid is the best.

But when I try to imagine his future, I wonder what I can or should hope for. Because he doesn’t appear to have any disabilities, I suppose that the sky is the limit. So, what does one hope for their child?

I think that parents hope that their child will do better than they did. For some parents, that means hoping their child becomes a professional athlete, or a doctor, or a lawyer. For my part, I hope that my son is wiser, more altruistic, and more spiritually enlightened than I am, because those are the qualities that I value. But last night as I was holding him (he was gassy) I thought about what he might be like as a teenager, and I remembered what I was like at that age. Specifically, I remember hanging out with one of my best friends in his basement, watching movies and talking about how great we were. We would talk about how we figured out this or that math problem, how we understood things that others didn’t, how strong we were, etc. We also talked about how certain people did morally questionable things, like lying, stealing, taking advantage of people or situations, etc. We talked about how we always did the right thing. We sounded very proud and arrogant, and maybe that is why we often ended up by ourselves, hanging out in his basement on a weekend. To be fair, we did have other friends and did get up to other things. And we both had girlfriends a bit later in high school. But if I look at that snapshot of my life, of two kinda lonely and bitter teenagers watching movies on a Friday night, it isn’t something that I hope for for my son. I hope that he is hanging out with more people, laughing, and saying and doing positive things.

My friend and I don’t hang out very much anymore. He lives in Toronto, where he has a very high paying job at a very big company. We still get together every now and then. And we texted a lot more frequently during the pregnancy. He has given me a lot of advice on how to help my wife as much as possible. He has two kids of his own, and is a very dutiful husband and father.

I remember that my friend used to talk about how much he appreciated his Catholic upbringing, and how much it taught him about right and wrong. Now he is quite atheistic. And I would say that he has contempt for the Catholic church. But he still cares very much about right and wrong, and doing good to people. It makes me realize something about our arrogant discussions back in high school. I understand now that we weren’t just spoiled kids, puffing ourselves up. We were making sense of life through discussion. We were synthesizing what we had learned through observation, and we were constructing the values that would guide us for the rest of our lives. We were figuring out who we were, and who we wanted to be. We sounded arrogant because we were, at the time, insecure. It is natural to feel insecure at that age when you are suddenly the height of a man but have not yet filled out, don’t have many skills, are not yet contributing to society, and are still dependent on your parents. All the girls your age are dating guys at least two years older than you. Of course it is an age to feel insecure.

Maybe a deep cause of our insecurity was the fact that we both had high hopes for ourselves. Our parents were admirable people. We wanted to be admirable people as well, but we were just teenagers and weren’t sure what that looked like in high school, where there are no real stakes. How do you be a man in high school, when your family is affluent and nobody really needs anything of you? Manhood didn’t become clear to me until I became a teacher and had a room full of dependents. Once I had real responsibilities, I finally considered myself a man like my father, and my friend’s father.

So, what are my hopes for my son? I guess I can’t have any specific hopes. I can’t think of any specific achievements that I want for him. Achievements are great. I have achieved a few things that I am proud of. But none of that gives me the deep satisfaction that I get from making my wife happy and taking care of our son. So, maybe that is my hope for him: that one day he becomes a father and experiences the same joys that he is giving me. That seems to be the most that I can hope for.

My dad called me up recently. We are very close, and he has been a constant support during all of my wacky adventures. When I was celibate and trying to be a yogi, I lived at home and, when my alarm went off at 5am so that I could have time for yoga and meditation before work, I could hear that he was already up, getting ready for his own yoga and meditation time. We have had a great many conversations about God and faith. We have been to India together several times. He came and visited me at the Novitiate house in Ireland and joined in our communal prayer and worship six times a day.

My dad called to tell me not to feel bad about giving up the celibate spiritual life. He told me that I was doing what was natural, good, and humble. He said that the celibate path is really only for those who are totally engrossed in the experience of meditation. Otherwise, it risks being a vain and egotistical endeavor, man’s attempt to glorify and elevate himself through his own willpower. He said that there is little merit in vain self-denial. We grow through giving our lives to God and to others, such as through marriage and parenthood. My father wanted to assure me that what I am doing now is better than the life I was trying to live before.

My dad is right. I know it. But I do not regret any part of my journey. It has all prepared me for this. Now I get to be the man I always wanted to be, just not in the ways that I expected. I thought I would be leading an ashram or a convent or something. Now I am supporting a mother, helping to take care of a baby, and in 2 weeks I will be busy trying to help a fresh bunch of 3, 4, and 5 year olds figure out how to live their best lives at school. Honestly, I wouldn’t trade this for any of the lives I dreamed of when I was younger.

So, in conclusion, what can I say about my hopes for my son? When I look back at my life, I see how wonderfully God arranged everything for me. I learned everything that I needed and wanted to learn (up until now) at exactly when I needed to learn it. God is a great teacher, and the lessons he gave me were very engaging. Truly, my life has been a wonderful journey, and I am grateful for every part of it. None of it went the way I expected. Very little of it went the way that I wanted it to (except for when I met my wife and knew immediately that I wanted to marry her). So, knowing God the way that I do, I realize that there is no point in hoping anything specific for my son. He is God’s son more than he is mine, and I have absolute faith that God will look after him and his soul better than I ever could. Everything will work out for my son. It won’t work out the way that I expect. It might not even work out the way that I want. But it will work out the best for his soul. And I just hope to be there to watch as long as I can.