Because That's The Job

"A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us, 'No'
Or where to go
Or say we're only dreaming..."

–Disney's Aladdin 

But this isn't a Disney movie. It's just real life raising complex little humans -- now teenagers -- don't blink. The sentiment in the song is how they feel, though, and everything they're experiencing is a whole new world. For them and for us. 

I've been writing about my own personal experiences with parenting and personal leadership for over 15 years, how my own past impacted this journey, and all my learning and growth throughout. My wife Amy and I have mostly lead our lives together, and our parenting, with love and empathy and positive discipline, and of course, practicing social, emotional, and physical safety via Kidpower. Our children have been raised with all this, and for over four years we've had weekly family meetings to check in with each other and review managing emotions, providing support, positive communications, and safety plans.

It doesn't mean with get it all right with them, because we don't, but we're proud of our parenting to date and the closeness we have as a family. Change is constant, however, and now our kids are teens are new experiences are happening all the time for them. Thank goodness nothing close to what Amy and I experienced at 12, 13, and 14 years old (which I'm not telling you or them about). But then again, our kids are now at an age where they're not telling us everything either. Ugh. 

Not only that, they're sometimes embarrassed to be around us, their sarcasm has developed and is no longer their "inside voices," they fight us on doing their chores, they question a lot of what we comment on as adults, they're doing things they're not supposed to without asking us first, they're sometimes lying to us and not telling us everything, and who knows what's next. Thank goodness there's no experimentation with drugs, alcohol, or (God forbid) sex (yet), but school is getting harder and more competitive academically, extracurricularly, socially -- all the ly's -- and the stress has increased exponentially. Plus, the perception of that stress is skewed by a still developing prefrontal cortex, hormonal changes, new life experiences happening every day, and friend group influences happening every day. 

God, it's a wonder that any of us survived adolescence. 

In high school I had a civics teacher who read a passage to us all about how young people today are selfish, misguided, obstinate, sarcastic, emotional, have a lack of respect for their elders, etc. The passage had been written over 2,000 years ago during the Roman Empire. Over 2,000 years later, the point was, it could've been written today (by less forgiving adults).

Again, we're grateful to be so close as a family. That's helped us help our kids deal with new and stressful experiences that could lead to social and emotional struggles if left unchecked, something I went through as a teen that I certainly don't want them to go through. We don't always get it right as their parents, but we've worked hard to provide empathic love, support, and guidance to them -- to help them make good choices in all the choices they'll make more and more on their own each day (and there will be bad ones). Whatever this whole new world of adolescence brings us all, we'll always meet our teens where they're at to help them persevere, overcome, learn, grow, and thrive into adulthood. 

Because that's the job, kids. Happy New Year!

A Renaissance of Pure Potentiality

We've always told our kids that it's not about the school grades, it's about doing their personal best and learning. Our oldest Beatrice would argue that we do care about grades, especially now that she's been in middle school for the past two-plus years. She's not completely wrong nor is she completely right on that one. For me, someone who grew up constantly striving to excel in school with the payoff being the grades, and the parental and peer recognition and social acceptance that came from that. What I didn't consciously realize then was that it wasn't so much about the learning; it was about being esteemed, even envied. 

It's different now. I'm different now. My wife Amy has definitely been more about pure potential and willingness to do our best, whatever the outcome, and I'm there now, too. Because the outcomes literally should be learning and growth as humans trying to traverse a lifetime of inevitable challenges and failures. Some self-imposed and many others brought on by others as well as circumstance. 

Our youngest Bryce has an easier time with her schoolwork overall than her big sister does. Don't get me wrong, even with Beatrice who struggles with math and reading, they both are thriving in school (Bea has an A+ in English -- and there's the grade pride thing again). Their grades reflect that, yes, but their entire daily exercise of living has translated to else their abilities to learn, adapt, and apply new insights to how they approach life as teens and beyond.

However, a lifetime of inevitable challenges and failures, whether self-imposed or not, isn't how life should be viewed exclusively. Yes, they will make decisions that won't be in their best interest. Yes, there may also come a time when they are discriminated against and opportunities withdrawn because of their gender, of who they are, of what they do.

But we want them to believe and breathe the Law of Pure Potentiality, that they can create anything, anytime, anywhere. This was one of our latest meditations and one that really resonated with me. It's based on the fact that we are, in our essential state, pure consciousness. Pure consciousness is pure potentiality; it is the field of all possibilities and infinite creativity. Pure consciousness is our spiritual essence.

Maybe we're not so far off when we tell our children they can be whoever they want to be and do whatever they want to do -- their spiritual essence is pure potential. The fact is that the challenges, limitations, and discrimination that can and will happen to them are all transitory -- they will still be able to create anything, anytime, anywhere. That includes creating love, empathy, happiness, and peace. 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right. Although I grew up a Christian, only now do I understand why others react so negatively when someone talks about their spirituality, their faith, and how God (our pure consciousness) provides. 

Our family's faith today is a renaissance of pure potentiality. Already both of our girls have started developing the ability to adapt, overcome, and to keep creating a positive vision of what's next. The latter being the biggest life differentiator of all. Grades may measure academic progress, while what we manifest measures the rest. 

Our Giving Tree

"And the tree was happy..."

—Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree

Sometimes I think about how change swirls around me at the speed of light. Imperceptible but omnipresent. Deconstructing and reconstructing at the subatomic level leaving in its wake an indefinite number of possibilities of what could be from what was and what is. How those changes impact my life and all the decisions I make each day that splinter into a million different potential alternate realities. 

Sometimes I think too much. Always have. 

Thankfully there are immediate mindful constants, the loving anchors around me that ground me to the now: my wife, our daughters, our pets, our home, our trees. One tree in particular. The tree that my wife Amy gave me.

Twenty-four years earlier, shortly after we met, I had these big beautiful grown trees outside of my second-story apartment balcony. I don't remember what they were exactly (maybe , but they'd been there for a long time with their roots pushing up on the sidewalk below.

The city decided the trees had to go, so they were cut down, the stumps removed, and the new cement sidewalks were poured. That's when we etched our initials in the wet cement, but that didn't last; years later the sidewalk was replaced again where our initials had once dried. 

Back to when the trees were cut down, though. Amy had bought me a wonderful present: a young Japanese maple in a pot. She knew how disappointed I was that the trees were removed and wanted me to have my own tree on my balcony. 

We had the tree for years when we moved into together, and while it did grow a little, it wasn't going to grow beyond the confines of its pot. I hoped someday it would have a yard of its own. 

When we bought our house a few years later, we finally had a backyard that we could call our own. At the time we were not planning on having children, and our small home and backyard was perfect for us. It was a new development at the time and the backyard was just weeds and rocky ground. We transformed it ourselves and planted the Japanese maple in the corner of our backyard. If it lived and grew, it would fit in nicely with the other maples planted in our new neighborhood's front yards and common areas. 

Our tree then grew and thrived. We changed our minds about having children and had two wonderful daughters who grew and thrived along with our tree. Even after the time we tried to trim the tree back ourselves and ended up hacking the heck out of it thinking we might've killed it. And even after our pet bunny gnawed on the base of the tree before we wrapped chicken wire around it. 

And even with the speed-of-light changes that have happened to our family throughout the years, it's continued to grow and thrive. If we ever left this house, which there were times we considered it, we knew couldn't take the tree with us. But we haven't left, and I don't think we ever will. 

Now, 24 years after Amy gave me this tree in a pot, it gives us a canopy of loving comfort. Every year it grows full and lush, then the leaves turn brown and red and fall to the ground, only to sprout again each spring. Unlike Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, we've only taken from it the constant comfort that it gives us year after year. That's why our giving tree anchors me. Otherwise, we just let it be; our tree is happy.