April 19, 2013
It's been four months since I've been back in my daily life from my blissful Australia trip. Life continues to turn, pareting continues to bring me to knees (as does my yoga practice), and I keep trying to stay open to it all.
We need more love in this world.
We need more parents who are willing to do the hard work and teach their children limits, alongside freedom, because freedom with out understanding limits is actually not freedom at all. I'm still contemplating how to say this better, how to convey what it is I actually believe about this . . .
Yesterday in the car I entered into a discussion with Noah. He was asking why some kids are so rude to each other and disrespectful to adults. I said, "well it could possibly be two things: 1. the people in their lives are treating them rudely and with disrespect, and thus they do the same to others, or; 2. noone around them has taken them the time to teach them."
He asked, "why would their parents not teach them these things?"
I told him how difficult it is at times for parents to see their children unhappy (myself included). I told him that there is this desire to give children freedom, to say no and then yes, to parent without limits, because parents don't want their children to "suffer" and it's hard work setting limits and boundaries and being consistent.
Parents take the easy road (which turns out not to be easy at all in the end). They say yes a lot without the proper guidance for children to learn what it means to sit with the feeling of not getting what they want, when they want it. It's important for us to all to be able to sit with discomfort, to drop in and notice, to build compassion. When parents fail to set limits, they are actually robbing their children of the ability to drop into sensation, emotion, agony, intensity, and ultimately joy.
He said, "but then won't they just suffer later if they don't understand it as they grow up?"
I take a deep breath and take in what I've just heard my my wise, wise child of 11 say to me. "I love you Noah." I say. "To the moon and beyond."
Then he, Ren, and I proceed into a discussion of their preschool days and tantrums and who did what and when. They want to relive the details of their toddler years. They ask me about their first words and what they did when they were "little."
Ren at age 8, and Noah at age 11, don't see themselves as little anymore - it's all about perspective I guess.