My purpose stared at me from many eyes before I could recognize its shape. It spoke to me from many voices before I could recognize its vibration. The more I listened, it tightened its grip within me.
Purpose has a way of embracing us, embodying us, and revealing us to the masses of our extensions of us. Before I could articulate my purpose, my purpose put my face between its palms and said, “See,” radiating reality back to me.
Let your purpose be in you, that place of assurance. Sit with it in your tears, in your discomfort, and in your obscurity. The greatest of all expressions of purpose is love. This love will enthuse you when you have worked to your end purpose-fully. Let your purpose be you. In all purity, all rawness and all authenticity.
Sometimes we want to convince people of their value with our words. But there is something even more powerful than convincing through words. Simply sitting with someone we love and care about is a beautiful way to convey our value for them.
To sit with someone is a form of presence that verifies the tenderness of our existence. It holds us in between our inhales and exhales. As we move through our uncertainties towards our victories, sitting with propels us forward – especially toward the meeting of our silent selves. The silent self, referred to for millennia by Ancient Teachers, Masters, and Mystics, is the self that exists beyond our thoughts and our emotions.
Connecting with our silent selves can expand our mental and physical capacities for wellbeing. It’s quite amazing.
Have you sat with a child lately?
Sitting with them in their moments of exuberant anticipation is just as harmonizing as sitting with them in their emotional distress. Sitting with is an ancient yet effective way to speak without speaking and rest without sleeping. It is a gift of presence that brings them back to their love-filled heart center. It is also divine.
You don’t need words to sit with that child you love. The words between you and them will arise in right time.
I was in third grade craving a Lunchable for my school field trip. I asked my mom. My mom told me to ask my dad. I asked my dad. My dad immediately began to question the concept of a Lunchable and why I “needed to have one.”
“But dad, everyone is going to have a Lunchable. I want one, too. I don’t want leftovers.”
“You’ll have a good lunch, mama. You don’t want barbeque chicken, macaroni and cheese, string beans, and potato salad?” Apparently, he was more excited about the leftovers than I was. He tried to convince me.
No, I said internally with a dazed and confused look on my face, dropping my shoulders.
“You’re not getting a Lunchable. You’re going to eat what I make you.”
I didn’t push the issue any further. He went on to criticize the concept of a Lunchable and how good I had it in comparison to him as a child.
Nearly 30 years later, I cannot tell you where my third-grade class went for our field trip. But what I can tell you is I thought having a Lunchable would give me the status I needed to be part of the ingroup.
I was still “the new girl.” But instead of experiencing the warmth of initial and sustained interest from the children, their friendships from kindergarten, first-, and second grade took priority. So, my school-based friendships were nearly nonexistent. I interpreted myself being on the outside looking in. Without a doubt, my third grader provides major insight on why I approach supporting children the way I do.
During lunch time on this day of the field trip, I sat by myself and took my lunch out of my backpack with a mixture of feeling hungry and dread for leftovers. Leftovers. I wanted to be in the in-crowd, sharing cheese and crackers, and opinions on the field trip. Instead, I examined my perspiring lunch in its to-go like container. I opened the container, gave it one last look, and then grabbed my spoon. I scooped a spoon full of macaroni and cheese and put it into my mouth. “Not bad I thought.” I took another bite and thought, “This is actually pretty good.” Then I went for the barbequed chicken. Then the string beans. Then the potato salad.
“This is really good,” I thought to myself. I was so happy to be eating good-tasting food.
When my dad picked me up at the end of the school day, I told him how delicious the food was; and I complimented him on his potato salad. He cooked everything, but I always enjoyed his potato salad with the special effect of just the right amount of paprika.
The day before, my dad attempted to talk me into understanding of why homecooked food was better than cheese and crackers with a cookie. But I couldn’t understand until I had my own experience. As the old adage goes, “Some things cannot be understood. They can only be experienced.”
Give thanks for the power of understanding that is transmitted through experience. This same power occurs to our children when they are simply eating and enjoying good homecooked food.
Have you ever thought this thought: “If I can just say the right thing at the right time, this child (or the student you love) would understand they have choices, and they’ll make a better choice?”
I’ve had this thought. It comes from a sincere place, good-hearted place. But it also comes from a place of urgency, panic, and fear. The tenderness of our desire to see our children (tweens and teens included) succeed is one that can fuel us into precise action. But if we seek to relieve ourselves of our fears, using children as an outlet for our words, we transmit seeds of emotional pain and unfulfilled longing. We call it sharing life lessons. It’s called lecturing. It could also be a verbal vehicle of displaced emotional pain.
Before you try to talk your child, student, or mentee into a place of understanding (i.e., lecture), ask yourself this simple question: What am I trying to accomplish for myself? You may be surprised to hear the answers to your own question. This process of reflection supports self-understanding, which helps you to offer understanding to your child.
Then ask yourself what your child/student/mentee will be able to accomplish after you attempt to talk to them into understanding? The goal here is to imagine the potential emotional outcome so you can receive spiritual insight on how to proceed before you proceed.
Some adults are trying to get kids to understand while failing to realize the more we talk, the less they hear us.
Some adults are trying to get kids to understand while failing to realize the more we talk, the less they hear us. This may further strengthen the child’s idea that they are not heard or understood.
Once you think about what you want to accomplish, I want you to ask yourself, “What can my child, student, mentee accomplish because I listened to them?” This is a life-changing question. You gain more insight when you listen and ask simple, powerful questions, rather than talk about your life and different things were. They also integrate different regions of their brain through recalling their life events, sharing them you, and gaining clarity.
As you focus on the positive emotional outcomes of your child being heard by you, imagine your student as an adult thanking you because you took time to be there for them emotionally. This is a beautiful sight to see. Simply let yourself bask in the positivity of this peaceful anticipation before having the next conversation. This level of positive mental absorption changes your energy before approaching your child. It also puts you in a higher place spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.
Stay tuned to read what happens when you enter into this higher place of consciousness, and you seek loving understanding of your child.
Have you ever been in a conversation with your child (tweens and teen included), and you find yourself getting frustrated with them because they can’t tell you their reason for doing what they did. The say, “I don’t know.” Suddenly, you feel like you’re in the Twilight Zone. Cue the music.
The truth is there are many reasons why kids say they don’t know. Here are the top 6:
They really don’t know. Their brains are still developing. Although they have the physical coordination and the smart phone to do what they did, their prefrontal cortex is still developing. Research shows that this part of their brain does not fully develop until mid- to late twenties.
They don’t want to tell you because they “already know what you are going to say.” They can predict what you will say. But it’s not enough to keep them from doing what they want to do in the moment. They’re testing some limits, and that’s part of developing a healthy sense of self.
They are genuinely afraid to tell you why. They do not feel emotionally safe. It’s not too late to create emotional safety. You may have to soften your tone, facial expression, and body language. But it can be done. Your child could also be highly sensitive and lack the confidence to know they are safe in expressing their more intense emotions.
They don’t want to disappoint you. So, they say they don’t know because saying they don’t know is far easier than disappointing you. They want you to be proud of them. Assure them they are loved unconditionally by you.
They fear being misunderstood because they have not learned what to do with misunderstanding. They also don’t have the life experience to know that being misunderstood is not the end of the world. So, not knowing what to do with feeling misunderstood while feeling misunderstood can feel uncomfortable and uncertain. We help them with self-understanding by listening, talking, and listening more.
Kids fear what their actions will say about them. Some kids are clear on why they did what they did, but they are not ready to admit that they made a certain decision because of how they see themselves. Maybe there is an incongruence between who they say they are, who they think they are, and why they do what they do. This one can be mind-blogging. Don’t lose heart. Helping them get curious about their core self-beliefs and their actions can reduce fear. So, instead of getting frustrated and yelling, “what was the reason?!” get curious.
Get Curious
You can look at the pyramid above with them and have them point out which level they were trying to meet. You can also say something along the lines of, “I saw/heard that you (said action). I’m curious to know more about your thought process.” Let them speak freely. If they need a little guidance ask any of the below questions. You can also ask, “What were you trying to accomplish?”
Were they trying to satisfy a basic need?
Were they seeking a need for safety or security?
Were they seeking to satisfy a need for love, friendship, belonging, friendship, or inclusion?
Were they seeking respect, status, freedom, independence, recognition, or strength?
Stay open to your child surprising you with new information. Were they seeking a desire to be the best that they could be?
Remember to validate that you see them and love them regardless of their reasons for doing what they did.
Simply state, “let’s hear more” or “say more about that.”
When you say, “let’s hear more,” both you and your child are listening to what they are saying. It helps their sense of self-understanding, which integrates the different regions of their brains. As you listen with an open heart, you will help them and you understand what’s happening. Verify what you hear them saying with the statement, “So I hear you saying…Am I hearing you correctly?” Let them correct you if you’re wrong. Love them while they open their heart and mind to you. They will appreciate you for seeking to understand them instead of jumping to conclusions and making assumptions.
As adults, we also behave in ways to meet our needs and desires. Think about it. If you’re hungry, you may eat every snack in sight until you satisfy your hunger. Or you may make a whole meal and eat some veggies while you cook. But the need you are satisfying is hunger. If you have a need for status, freedom, respect, or strength, you will behave in certain ways to get those needs met. The key here is to help kids understand their reason and not induce shame. We, as adults, don’t always go about getting our needs met in the right way. Let us give our children the truth and grace we receive as we grow with them.
As a Kids’ Life Coach, I constantly seek to see my students’ world and their decisions from their eyes. When I do this, I replace negative judgement with discernment. I also create the space for them to make some mental connections between meeting their needs and behaving in a certain way. When they recognize the connection between their needs, their wants, and their behaviors, they have an opportunity to decide how they want to proceed (that is, behave) to meet their needs. Sign up for your free consultation today if you’d like assistance with any of the points in this resource. You can also check out my conversation starter deck, Tell Me You Love Me Without Telling Me You Love Me to gain even more insight on your child’s wonder-filled nature.
I bless you. I want the best for you. And you’ll read from me again soon.
Key thoughts: rest your mind so you can discover the newness of each day and your role in the Divine formula for success in your life. It will enrich the lives of people around you.
This year has been a mosaic of beautiful, powerful, overwhelming and triumphant. I’m exiting 2019 with joyful expectation and gratitude. In preparation, I am starting a 12-week email series titled, “Twelve Weeks of Rising.” I would be so happy to have you join me. It is FREE. Together we will build community and deepen our commitments to God, ourselves, and one another.
Once a week for 12 weeks, I will offer insights on how to be a healing presence as we innovate in our everyday lives.
What if our physical lives being, as temporal as the soapy sphere of a bubble, are supposed to burst as they reach new dimensions?
What if the shape within becomes one with the atmosphere and divinity without by exceeding its limitations to its expectations of limitless-ness.
We fight for our bubbles. How beautiful they are. And we are more. We are earth and sky; human and divine: spirit and bone and flesh. We simply and complexly are.
I was driving from one of my early education school sites to another, where I support the humans in creating seamless supports for children preparing for kindergarten. I was slowing down at a stop sign when the driver behind me sped away. She looked into my window to get a view of the driver delaying the arrival at her destination. We made eye contact. I was irritated by how impatient and reckless many drivers can be. Then the Spirit spoke to me: I couldn’t go to where she was. That is, to her psychological and spiritual location. I had to stay where I was in the larger moment of appreciation and gratitude. Had I left where I was to be where she was, it would have cost me.
Then I thought to myself about the cost of living. One definition of living is to breathe, be and do independent of our past, our present conditions and any future concerns. It also means to be and act independently of our and others’ opinions, beliefs and imposed limitations on ourselves. The cost of living then is what we pay to remain in the joy, peace and wonder of whose and where we are.
So many insights from an irritated driver and my choice to not wrap myself in it. I parked my car and was reminded of a verse in Philippians (chapter one, verse 22). When the Apostle Paul said “to die is to gain,” he was also referring to dying to the lowest parts of self that deceive us into thinking we win because we’ve met someone where they are and still – we think – we are superior to them. But have they not some power if they evoked us from our place of being to theirs?
The cost of living.
Then I am reminded my beloved First Lady say, “When they go low, we go high.”
“Language is a vibration we speak and then act out of. Anytime you say, “That’s just the way I am,” you are fighting for your limitations and matching that vibration.” – Niambi Jaha-Echols What Color is Your Soul?
There are three crucial elements that can brighten any child’s home, extended family, and community experiences. Those elements are 1) sleepovers with your cousins 2) preferential treatment from your grandparents and 3) ice cream. I had many ice cream moments with my mom, dad, and sister. It’s an inexpensive thrill. The sleepovers came when I was a little older. But the preferential treatment from my grandparents that was characterized by quality time, laughter, gifts, money and shields from parental discipline was not a part of my childhood. I am certain that my life would have been different because of it. In many ways, I felt like something was always missing something because I didn’t grow up with my grandparents. At 32-year-old, staring at the horizon of 33, I recognize that the physical entry point and embrace grandparents represent is what I missed. It also affected my ability to speak for many years. That is in Spanish. While I’m Black on both sides, my grandparents come from different nations. My paternal grandparents emigrated from Honduras. My maternal grandparents migrated from Mississippi. Many times I imagined how much more confident I would be if the confidence of being embraced by grandparents, especially the Spanish-speaking ones for when I began learning Spanish as a teenager, would have changed my experience. Three weeks before writing this post, I recognized that I had to make a choice to let go of what never was so I can become all the goodness I am divinely and genetically coded to be. At some point we all make the same choice of letting go. There is so much security in letting go. For what is in us is far superior to anything we could look back for and hope to obtain.
I remember being in a parking lot with my mom and a few of my cousins, her nephews, some years ago as they reminisced about our grandmother. The memories they shared were foreign to me – so much so that she sounded like more of their grandmother instead of mine too. In short, my maternal grandmother, the one of which they spoke so fondly, did not favor my sister and me because my mother was not one of favorite children. Therefore, I recall her caring for us twice when my mother was at work. It was a very sweet time. She did what felt like grandmothers did for their granddaughters: gently comb their hair and tell them how pretty they look; slice fruit and place it on small saucers; sit them on their laps and tell stories. Because it was only twice we spent that quality of time with her and the other times she did not acknowledge my sister and me in our visits to her home, it feels like a distant dream. I watched my mother’s facial expression and body language as my cousins recalled their visits with her mother. She shared on the way home that she felt sad and upset because my sister and I had a different experience.
My paternal grandmother was much more affectionate. But she too was distant – geographically speaking. My sister and I met her for the first time after years of phone conversations and packages sent between the Bronx and San Francisco Bay Area. She was immediately drawn to us and lit up her being with smiles from her heart to ours. I didn’t know what standing on the sidewalk next to a grandmother felt like until I was 12-years-old. I remember feeling a deep sense of connection that at that time I could not articulate but identify. In reminder, she was from Trujillo, Honduras. Yet, she stood as a woman of stature in front of those high-rise brick buildings. A long-time resident. Her thick Spanish accent enlaced with her soft voice greeted a young man as he walked by. My grandmother was warm and firm. He looked at her with respect and returned the greeting. The young man also looked at her as though he had forgotten to speak and was surprised by her commanding reminder. In that moment, I felt like I had a claim to significance.
There is something about the authoritative presence of grandparents. The simple act of standing beside them can feel like a bestowal of ancestral dignity. Nevertheless, the 4 times I spent with my grandmothers before the age 18 (2 times with each) and the one time with my paternal grandfather with some brief hellos to my maternal grandfather created holes in my heart. It added to my narrative of not belonging. It also fueled feelings of isolation.
I was working in the Early Education Enrollment Placement Center a few weeks ago as a support to Spanish-speaking families. (This is part of my work as a Family Support Specialist.) A brief encounter reminded me of my need to speak, to be sure, and to honor all my grandparents even in the faint fondness of knowing them. A father walked into the office to inquire about an application he had submitted for his child. He was Black and a Native Spanish-speaker. I almost said nothing to him. I would have simply smiled and wondered where he was from. But instead of doing that, I asked him in Spanish where he was from. He was answered, “Central America.” After further questioning, he revealed he was from a town in Honduras, not far from my grandparents’ town. For all I knew, we could be distant relatives meeting in San Francisco. Coworkers of mine in the office marveled at my accent and fluency. They also said they didn’t know I spoke Spanish. I jokingly said that sometimes even I forget. What I know to be true for me now is that I will miss out on making new connections – especially neurological ones – if I focus on the connections I did not make growing up. That day, I decided to let go of the insecurity of having not been consistently physically embraced by my grandparents to embrace the meta-physicality of the “more than” I imagine they desired to give me but didn’t know how or didn’t have the opportunity to give.
Ashley M. Blanco 