Dear Alexander,

Right now you are sitting on a beautiful, likely wet island in regions north of here, reading a handful of letters from your family on the occasion of your stepping across the threshold from childhood into adulthood. It is a wonderful opportunity that your school has given you, and all of us, to pause and mark this important moment in your life.

The love I have for you is obvious (I hope) and not so terribly voluntary in my case, so I want to focus on the deep respect I have for you. When you were learning to walk, using that standing push-thingy you got for your first birthday, you would occasionally bump into a wall, or the couch, or the ottoman and you would say “ooopie.”

The sound of that “ooopie” will always be with me. It was not an unhappy sound at all. If anything, it felt more like an exclamation of quiet delight.

There was a lightness you held, and still hold, about life itself and it is extremely refreshing–and important–in heavy times such as these. You have helped your mom laugh a whole lot more in this life, Alex, and you have helped me glimpse the secret joy lurking under the surface of everything, especially the messy and imperfect process of learning to walk, of growing up, of becoming fully human.

Standing up and taking responsibility for ourselves, learning to move forward with life step by step is a learning that never ends. You have taught me to do this thing called “life” with much more tenderness (yes, you read that right: tenderness) and mirth than I ever dreamed possible.

You enjoy target practice with the bow and arrow, right? I have probably told you a thousand times that the word “sin” is an archery term. Have I? Well, even if I have, for purposes of this letter to the 14-year-old Alex sitting alone on the wet and beautiful island reading these words, “sin” means to miss the mark. That’s it. Ooopie. Nothing more than that. One cannot learn to live in this life without screwing up. Missing the mark, sinning, is an integral part of learning to hit the mark.

There are two grave errors that I have made time and again in this life. One has been to give in to perfectionism, caring more about not missing the mark than engaging in the messy and humbling process of learning how to hit my mark in the world.

The second big error that I have made, repeatedly, is that of aiming at the “wrong” target. What I mean by wrong is that for much of my young life I aimed at the targets society had set up before me: getting straight As, landing big jobs, getting into certain schools, looking good, and so on.

You are your own person, Alex, and I think you possess a profound capacity to aim at your own target and not get pulled off course. But the world is blustery, loud, and can convince us that success looks like this or that without reference to us at all. We can forget to seek what makes us feel truly, authentically alive.

There is a quote from the Bhagavad Gita that I love. It introduced me to the idea that the gravest “sin” in life is not to miss the mark, but to aim at targets that are not our own:

BG 18.47: It is better to do one’s own dharma [purpose], even though imperfectly, 

than to do another’s dharma, even though perfectly.”

Back to the respect I have for you, my dearest Alex. You are made of tough, strong, stubborn stuff, and yet your are also wise, tender, loving, and deeply compassionate.

Trust in yourself, always. Feel your feelings, even the difficult ones, as they will guide you to what is just and true in this life. Be unshakeable and constant in your love and respect for yourself, and the world will follow your lead.

I love you with all my heart, my dearest Alex. Even when I am mad at you, I can’t quite take the anger as seriously as it would like, which is sanity in my book. Under your tutelage, I am slowly awakening.

Here’s what I have to say in return: you can’t screw up, son. Not really, anyway. Ooopie.

So be brave and relentless in your pursuit of Life. Enjoy the ride. Make the hours count. And please do not be afraid to get dirty or hurt.

In a word: Live.