Truths to hold onto

These are some of the reflections and revelations that have become my touchstones lately..

Untangle the fear

In parenting, fear serves little purpose, except to provide the adrenaline rush that allows us to whisk our kids out of the way of an oncoming car. But in most of our engagements with our children, it keeps us small and constrained, drawing on versions of ourselves and interpretations of the world that do not reflect who we are becoming or the expanded vision of who our children can be.

When tension and struggle arise, we can stop. We can feel this fear, look into its hollow eyes, and ask it to unmask itself. More often than not, what we are afraid of is not based on the truth of the present moment but on an old, deeply embedded—perhaps even ancestral—mechanism designed to protect the “small” parts of us that once saw life as inherently dangerous and ourselves as inherently unlovable.

But there are wiser parts of us now, parts that know better. Parts that know our worth and our children’s worth. Parts that see the blessings and opportunities of life as far greater than the brokenness and rigidity of a world still in the process of shedding its skin and emerging into the light.

Be the Observer

As humans, we have the unique ability to step outside ourselves and observe—just as we watch our children interact at play or witness a sunrise that takes our breath away. This role of the observer can be strengthened and refined. With time, we begin to see the present moment not as the result of unfathomable external forces, but as something we co-create.

As observers, we realize that we can take active roles in shaping the future—not through control and resistance, but by sensing what calls for our attention and where our energy can generate and transform.

For parents, this role is particularly critical. By honing our skills of observation, we can discern what our children truly need from us. We can attune ourselves to what lies beneath their struggles and develop the essential skill of separating what is ours from what is theirs. We can recognize the structure they need from us while also learning how to direct our energy and attention toward their individuality—their emerging gifts and strengths.

Be Vigilant with the Voices

From the moment we wake until our head hits the pillow—and even throughout the night—we are telling ourselves stories. Many of these stories are built on false assumptions: that we must follow the rules, color inside the lines, do what has been done before. That to be a "good" mother or a "successful" person, we must meet certain expectations.

Our stories often share common themes—excel, compete, make money, keep up appearances, be beautiful, fit in. We are told that this is the way to be loved, to belong, to have worth. And without realizing it, we pass these same stories down to our children, whether explicitly or not.

Mostly, we never question these stories; they simply exist, taking up space in our minds and shaping how we see ourselves, our children, and our potential.

But what if we told ourselves different stories?

"What if everything works out?"

" What if I could never truly fail?"

"What if my child finds her own way—down a path meant for her, one far more meaningful than anything I could have ever envisioned?"

"No matter what happens, my children and I will be safe and loved."

Try it. And be mindful of the stories you pass on to your children—they may be your greatest legacy.

Allow in Joy

Did you ever hear, as a child, that joy should be a priority? The feeling of freedom, of being fully alive, of your heart bursting with laughter—these were often allowed only at the margins, squeezed in between long classes and granted only after work was dutifully done. Joy had to be earned, and its depth was tied to achievement—schoolwork, chores, appearance, even sports, where enjoyment was measured by success.

Yet joy is our birthright. It is our greatest blessing, the fuel for our creativity, and the most powerful antidote to what ails our world—depression, anxiety, selfishness, disconnection, despair.

As parents, how do we allow ourselves to experience joy? To what extent do we make it contingent on our own performance? How often do we dampen joy with self-judgment?

Our own relationship with joy is the model our children will inherit.