Do you talk with your children; or do you talk AT them??

I feel like the old days of, “children should be seen and not heard”, are too long, leaving. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, on the way out, I want to chide. Parents of all ages, finances, and backgrounds, seem to be 50/50 on this. Some are downright negligent; never acknowledging, let alone actually listening to their kids. Some are over the top, interrupting existing conversation to answer a kid who’s really just being rude. There is in this, as in ALL things, a rather happy medium.

That said, I’m going to mention that we have, before us, an amazing group of young people. If they are cultivated and taught properly, this generation can achieve truly wonderful things. We teeter, as a race, on the brink of an awesome epiphany, held together by the minds of tomorrow. These kids have as much to teach us, as we do, them. This is not to say that the parents and teachers of this brilliance should halt in favor of it, but, to imply that we alternately coddle and ignore it; something that has to stop, if it is to be properly nurtured.

Sometimes (most times, honestly) shut up and listen. Within our minds exist the possibility of all things, and when we open our minds, particularly to what a completely¬†naive mind can teach us (that which we have forgotten, almost entirely), we create a mixture of the purest understanding. Two worlds meet, to create a perfect balance, which is the epitome of ‘happy medium’.

What does it cost us, but, our time? All that most kids want; believe it, or not; is to be acknowledged, understood, appreciated. It’s what we all want/crave/yearn for, when you think about it. It’s a desire, it seems, that never dies. Just as we do, they love to be interesting and interested, to incite and enjoy a laugh, to hear and express concern. They want, as we all do, to be sociable, loved, intriguing. Is this so difficult to muster?

I think that society, as a whole, would benefit a great deal from more listening and less toxicity in our relationships.


Life may be a bitch, but…

…I tend to think that’s exactly what makes it so fun.

I alternately love/hate my life, as does most of the population. It’s up; it’s down; it’s beautiful; it’s loathsome; it’s fatal; it’s vivacious; it’s serene; it’s complicated. It’s amazing; all of it; really. A lot of people take life for granted. They want things to be easier, but then, when things are easier, those same people can never be content with their own complacency and settle, eventually, for seeking out the excitement that makes up the innate tug-of-war that is human existence. The give-and-take measures us, just as our love, our knowledge, our hope, and our generosity, do.

They think that theirs are the only lives that mean anything and, for their tiny scope and little bitty parcel of World, that is true. In the grand measure of things, however, we all fall miserably short of what really matters. It’s onlytruly relevant, if it’s relevant to you?

Well, pardon my French(ish), but, who the fuck are YOU? Who, for that matter, the fuck am I??

If I don’t know you, I don’t want to hear your life story in the checkout aisle and I assume the same, in the reverse. Nonetheless, I will grin like the cheschire cat at your kid, just to let him/her know that grownups can be okay, every now and again. Just to let them know that they matter.¬†

Most people don’t care about other peoples’ kids. Other peoples’ kids are other peoples’ problems, and all that jazz. First of all, they’re NOT problems; period. Second of all; too many people don’t care about their own kids, and it’s our job, as role models, in general, to always remain positive influences in the lives of others; children and adults, alike. My livelihood is to teach other peoples’ kids, and I can’t imagine anything more rewarding. Just as, with my own daughter, life is hard and crazy and spectacular; every day with those kids, presents challenges I never dreamed would occur, spontaneous little outbursts of crazy, and hardships aplenty.

There are things that jolt you, things that wake you from the dreamland of your boring every-day, to pull you into the absolute perfect balance of our lives. They may not be my kids, technically, but they are my kids, in every other way. Each day is full of stupid, mundane, little nerve-racking annoyances and, at the end of every single day, I sit at home with my one daughter and my boring television, or book, or chess game against the computer and think; What a great/terrible/crazy/awesome day, that was. All of the little things melt away, like a bad dream, and only the good of the day remains, in the smells on my shirt, in the smile on my face, and in the purity of my heart, kept young, forever, like the mythical Peter Pan, who also surrounded himself with the only love that counts. The love of your children.

Thanks, for reading. Sorry, I’ve been such a slacker.