"There are many ways to get children
to behave as you wish.
You can force, plead, and bribe.
You can manipulate, trick, and persuade.
You can use shame, guilt, and reason.
These will all rebound upon you.
You will be in constant conflict.
Attend instead to your own actions.
Develop contentment within yourself.
Find peace and love in all you do.
This will keep you busy enough.
There is no need to control others.
If you are able to release even some small part
of your persistent need to control,
you will discover an amazing paradox.
The things you attempt to force
now begin to occur naturally.
People around you begin to change.
Your children find appropriate behavior
emerging from within themselves
and are delighted.
Laughter returns to all."
I often felt while I was growing up like the adults around me held me to a higher standard than they held themselves. While I think it's normal and natural for parents to expect or want more for and from their children, to require much without giving a faithful example of how to attain it is unjust as well as cruel.
I remember one Easter dinner when this hit home for me. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was humiliated. I'd been seated beside my mom, who noticed at one point in the meal that I had dribbled a drop of milk from my glass onto my grandma's tablecloth. Instead of gently pointing it out to me and asking me to clean up after myself, Mom commented loudly and rushed to wipe it up herself. In the process she knocked over her glass of white wine, which spilled in its entirety onto my lap. Already embarrassed about the milk, I was now also cold, stinky, and soaking wet. My dress was ruined.
I may have mustered the courage to speak up for myself, because while I don't now recall the particular fate of my dress, I do seem to remember my mother issuing a rare--for that time--apology and kindly helping me clean myself up somehow. I'm glad I learned then that adults are not perfect, that everyone makes mistakes, and that most mistakes can be fixed. However, it took me a much longer time to learn that I am not just a mess waiting to be made or an inconvenience to everyone around me. I still live with the echoes of these lies in my heart. Good behavior can quiet them, remembering acts of physical repair puts them in perspective, but the emotional impact remains. What I hope to do with my daughter is empower her to act graciously on her own behalf, always. This means not only cleaning up her own messes or fixing her own mistakes, but also recognizing when she is missing an opportunity to do so, and demanding to do justice to the world and her place in it.
to behave as you wish.
You can force, plead, and bribe.
You can manipulate, trick, and persuade.
You can use shame, guilt, and reason.
These will all rebound upon you.
You will be in constant conflict.
Attend instead to your own actions.
Develop contentment within yourself.
Find peace and love in all you do.
This will keep you busy enough.
There is no need to control others.
If you are able to release even some small part
of your persistent need to control,
you will discover an amazing paradox.
The things you attempt to force
now begin to occur naturally.
People around you begin to change.
Your children find appropriate behavior
emerging from within themselves
and are delighted.
Laughter returns to all."
I often felt while I was growing up like the adults around me held me to a higher standard than they held themselves. While I think it's normal and natural for parents to expect or want more for and from their children, to require much without giving a faithful example of how to attain it is unjust as well as cruel.
I remember one Easter dinner when this hit home for me. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was humiliated. I'd been seated beside my mom, who noticed at one point in the meal that I had dribbled a drop of milk from my glass onto my grandma's tablecloth. Instead of gently pointing it out to me and asking me to clean up after myself, Mom commented loudly and rushed to wipe it up herself. In the process she knocked over her glass of white wine, which spilled in its entirety onto my lap. Already embarrassed about the milk, I was now also cold, stinky, and soaking wet. My dress was ruined.
I may have mustered the courage to speak up for myself, because while I don't now recall the particular fate of my dress, I do seem to remember my mother issuing a rare--for that time--apology and kindly helping me clean myself up somehow. I'm glad I learned then that adults are not perfect, that everyone makes mistakes, and that most mistakes can be fixed. However, it took me a much longer time to learn that I am not just a mess waiting to be made or an inconvenience to everyone around me. I still live with the echoes of these lies in my heart. Good behavior can quiet them, remembering acts of physical repair puts them in perspective, but the emotional impact remains. What I hope to do with my daughter is empower her to act graciously on her own behalf, always. This means not only cleaning up her own messes or fixing her own mistakes, but also recognizing when she is missing an opportunity to do so, and demanding to do justice to the world and her place in it.
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