I woke up this morning thinking about influences.  Actually, that’s not entirely accurate.  I woke up thinking about coffee and, oddly, Shakespeare.  But once I was carefully nursing my first cup, the subject of influences started flirting around the edges of my still-foggy brain until it solidified into something like a real thought.  Or at least most of a thought.

Being influenced by the world around us is part of the human condition.  Whether we like it or not, we are bombarded with inputs day in and day out that impact our thoughts, our decisions, our actions… even our character.  Nothing I’m saying here is particularly insightful or profound – more a baseline statement of fact: influences are unavoidable.

Some of them are pretty overt and simplistic, like the runner who passes you and inspires you to push a little harder.  Or the mentor at work who offers explicit guidance and advice.  Or a book that you read.  Others are much more subtle, and we may not even recognize them except in hindsight.  That moment changed my life.  Changed the way I thought about something.  Changed the way I felt about something.

And even though on some level I’d like to think myself impervious to at least the more pedestrian of the many unwanted and unsolicited influences, I know I have a limited ability to truly filter through them at the rate they present themselves.  I have to just hope that they slough off like so much dead skin over time.

But how do you really measure the longevity of influencers?  Or can you?  Do they have a shelf life?  A half life?  A life of their own?  Are they more meaningful when they are overt or subtle?  When experienced as a child or as an adult?

We likely at least have a much more limited ability to filter out positive and negative influences as children. I would hypothesize, then, that those early influences have a greater potential for long-lasting impact.  We take them — all of them — and welcome them into our fertile minds and hearts.

And as a parent, I hope I’m right.  I hope that that some of what I try to teach my children, both overtly and using more subtle methods,  will stay with them forever.  That my influence now, during the formative years, will last even when I’m not with them.  Which is why I work hard every day to shape their foundation into something solid and durable that will withstand so many other influences that will come into their young, tender lives.

The reality is that I don’t know how effective it is.  Personal reflection is really all I have to go on… which is what I woke up thinking about this morning.

So Happy Birthday, Mom.  I don’t know how much of your influence is still with me today, but I suspect there’s something in the fabric of my heart that comes from you, woven through the small but consistent acts that make up motherhood.  And I’m thankful — grateful — for your brief but meaningful presence in my life.  Especially today.