Maybe I was onto Something

Here’s something. I was late to parenting. This means that on a bad day, I stagger around on my dog walk with three eye bags under each eye, staring into space. In all honesty, had I had them younger, I imagine it would only have been marginally better. And maybe worse because I’d have far less understanding of myself and life in general.

But one colossal upside is my time spent observing the human condition through all of this work. It means that, while, like every parent, I get things wrong and learn as I go, I am able to apply those learnings to the way I raise these two small creatures.

One big lesson I took from my parents, and have seen amplified in many of the people who have found their element in their work and broader life, is that for a person to find their way, they need the right balance of encouragement, mentorship, and freedom to find out.

My daughter has barely stopped moving since she was born. She expresses delight with a jump, a kick of her legs, or a spontaneous dance move. I recall watching her watching Bing, the kids’ TV show, her entire body in the air, held up by her arms gripping onto the chair arms, legs crossing left and right. So, gymnastics on Monday mornings. In the pool, and on the climbing frame, she is utterly fearless. Physical dynamism is a pre-set. And now, it’s street dance on a Saturday morning.

My son isn’t far behind with the climbing ability, but his brain adores mechanisms, systems, puzzles. He began prodding at my wife’s piano, so she showed him a very basic tune. He sat there until he’d cracked it, and kept coming back. So, piano lessons.

There’s privilege here, don’t get me wrong. The massive majority of my little leisure money goes on their interests now, but consider this the gentle nudge.

There’ll never be pressure. That doesn’t work. I don’t care if either of them are flagged as some unprecedented level of prodigy. If they’re not enjoying it, it ends. Of course, encouragement to work through and persevere is a very different thing, and that time will come, but at 5-years-old, it is our job to merely enable and observe.

It felt unreal as I watched my daughter keep step for step with her instructor. My son finishing his tea, ambling over to the piano and spending the next 40-minutes without suggestion or obligation, cracking codes, trying, snarling, trying again, smirking as he got it right, felt on a par with any great career or life highlight thus far.

This was both personal exhilaration because my hopes that I was onto something with this strategy was, at least for a moment, accurate, but also professionally, because I subtly use this approach in my coaching, in the advice I routinely share with other people who are looking for something better aligned with who they are. It’s why I don’t show up with templates, only a universe of creativity’s makeup. This is why talking about chores, mischief, mistakes, dark humour, what books they’re reading, what feels insurmountable, and so much more matters.

It’s also why so many people feel stupid, frustrated, angry, and disillusioned with an education system in dire need of an overhaul as we move into a world where revolutions are going to happen quicker than election cycles.