It is a core element of spiritual practice to trust the unfolding of our lives with the understanding that everything is working out for our highest good. The lessons we need to learn tend to be right in front of us, appearing naturally like a mirror. And when they’re not, we are driven by inspiration to seek out that which interests us.
So why would things be any different for our children? Don’t the same mechanisms work for them as well?
If the construct for learning is implicit in life itself, in a way that is far more intelligent and intuitive than anything man can (at this stage) re-create, then our role as a parent is less about needing to obsess over every detail of what our kids are or are not learning, and instead about being the facilitator of this natural intelligence. My role as a parent evolves from needing to control every aspect of their environment, to providing an environment of freedom where life’s natural lessons can unfold without much constriction.
Through unstructured play and curious exploration, children learn a remarkable amount of information in a short period of time. This is easily accepted during the younger years of development, but as soon as children reach about age 5 (and sometimes younger) everything changes. Suddenly we begin to force “learning” through artificially created environments and curriculums. Why do we do this? What energy are we operating from? And what message is this sending to our children?
Most likely we do this because it’s what we are familiar with. It’s the way we were taught, and we don’t have other examples to model off of. So instead of trusting life’s natural learning mechanism, we fear that if we don’t fill our children with every inch of compulsory content, they won’t learn what they need to be successful in their adult life. But is this what we saw in their development as a young child? And is this the ideology we so eagerly try to live up to in our own spiritual practices?
What we are actually doing is robbing them of the opportunity to find out for themselves what they are interested in. There is a reason a child complains about having to do something they don’t feel is relevant. Somewhere deep inside that child there is a knowing of what is most in service to their learning path right now, and what is not. It is not difficult for children to learn, it is only difficult to force them to learn what they are not interested in.
That is not to say they won’t EVER be interested in it. It means they have something else that is calling their heart at this moment, and that something is to be valued.
Our system of enforced schooling is just one example of the many institutions created from the energy of fear and its byproduct control. Out of fear that our child’s inherent nature will lead them astray, and the assumption that we always know what is best, we impose our will onto the child. The message to our children is clear: You cannot trust yourself or your interests, and in order to survive you must succumb to an outside authority who knows what is best for you.
When society all around us reflects these beliefs it is easy for the message to become internalized. The belief is played out and becomes our reality, a phenomenon most commonly referred to as a self fulfilling prophecy. We need not look far to see this in our modern society. It manifests as a need for government to solve all our problems and keep everything under control; the rationalization of taking a job you don’t prefer because you never learned to trust your passions; the prescriptive age-appropriate life check list that we use as a measuring stick for our success. Since we have chosen to believe that the answers are outside of ourselves, we give our power away to the illusion that there is an external force that has power over us.
If we wish to see a changed world, we should start with changing the way we treat children. When they learn that they can trust themselves, the institutions of the future will reflect this. Quite possibly our most challenging and evolutionary role as parents is to learn to trust our children and their learning process. This means we have to let go
of a lot of “shoulds” and “should not’s.”
It is our job to be a supportive guide on our child’s individual journey, but never falling for the assumption that we know better than life itself what is best for their development. Their instincts, their higher selves, pull them towards the experiences most in service to their path. This is not something we have to worry about, or overcompensate for.
Learning is often immeasurable. We may not be able to create a multiple choice test for the deep realizations and connections our children make from building a fort or swinging on the swing for hours. But it’s these very activities that allow the space for their intrinsic desires to appear. The most conducive thing we can do for their development is to not only respect their free will, but to trust it. All is well, even if we can’t see it right now, even if it is not appearing in the way we expected or are familiar with.
Reality will reflect back to us our beliefs, like a mirror. What we believe, we experience. By showing our children that their instincts are to be trusted, and life itself is a process that can be trusted, we are giving them an invaluable gift. This is the firm foundation we desire for our kids, one where they experience support, confidence, and capability. The irony is that in order to create this for them, we need to have the courage to step out of their way.
We are fostering a paradigm of trust. The question we must ask ourselves is, how can I as a parent demonstrate the paradigm of trust for my children in a world that still for the most part operates from the paradigm of fear? If we can accomplish this, we will be the example our children need to create a truly changed world.
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