Raising Children, Raising Adults: The Holder of the Keys

This will be my last post on how children raise adults. I am sure I will come back to this topic at some point as I am fascinated by how much I learn about living from my children. I also think this topic still calls for more exploring. For me, it challenges the notion that somehow we (the adults) are the wiser ones. I want to challenge the inherent hierarchical structure that underpins our society and the way we relate to children. While we the adults do have knowledge and insight and resources, I am amazed at how children continue to open the doors to mindfulness. For me, those doors open a magical room, a place where the spiritual and the physical worlds are the same. Children carry the key to this mystical door.

Lately I have learned three things about that key: love, listen, learn.

LOVE: Being the recipient of unconditional love from my parents is where I learned to love, but that is different from stepping into living unconditional love and letting it fill the room of my life. It is easy to love my children unconditionally and harder to love myself in the same way. But because I can catch myself loving them in ways I didn't know I had, I can better catch myself, more like remind myself, to unconditionally love me. It also helps that I live with three extremely gracious and loving children. They forgive me. And when you are the recipient of that sort of grace, living changes. That kind of love stirs and activates and opens the heart to deep compassion and understanding.

LISTEN: I have so much to learn about what it really looks like to hear another into speech. The other day my daughter asked to speak to me privately. We went off into the living room, closed the door, I sat down next to her, and listened. She began to tell me about one concern she had about her body. I listened. And because I showed her I was not in a hurry and that we had time to talk, I listened some more. She cried about this and laughed about that. A range of emotions. I really did not say a thing. Just bobbed my head, smiled, and held her when she needed holding. I realized that the more she spoke, the more emotions she expressed, and the more topics she covered in ten minutes, the more she sounded like me. Gratitude filled me for all the people who listen to me that way. I was waking up, I finally learned what it really felt like to listen to another person.

One of my favorite metaphor for friendship is spiritual midwifery. The true friend is one who listens, one who hears one into speech. A friend (spiritual midwife) catches one who is giving birth to one's spiritual self. The friend listens to stories, listens for threads, and hears one into healing.

I have been the recipient of that kind of listening. My daughter gave me the chance to practice it. I could say that that day she learned from me what it means to be with another, that I was teaching her, raising her, through example, to be one who listens, but actually, I felt like I was the one doing the learning that day. I was the one who was given the chance to practice the art of listening. Sure, I have many chances to practice that art, but that day was different because it was with my daughter and listening seemed to take on a new understanding to me. It seemed to matter more.

LEARN: The wave of learning has caught my son. All he wants to do is math. With me. All the time. Even right before we go to bed, he wants to talk about a few more concepts, practice a few more problems. He is so thirsty for learning all he can about math. I have never experienced him this way and it is so thrilling as his parent to participate in his interest. That powerful wave of learning, thanks to him, is slowing cresting and I am beginning to remember what it feels like to want to know. I am also more aware that to live is to learn and to learn is to live. It is never too late to learn something new or to ride that big wave of knowledge. Although it can be scary, and extremely tiring, how thrilling to awaken to something new or something long forgotten.