Ya know, I have often heard admonitions given to children to not cut open a cocoon, because then the butterfly will not have the strength to fly when it comes out. I have heard this spoken to adults as proof that life's struggles create in us the ability to mature. However, I have not heard this challenge given to parents for their children.
How often were we given an easy path to Life? Things made fair. Rewards for every effort. Allowing teens to be a child with responsibilities, even as allowing adult-like freedoms with privileges.
Now, 6 years ago, before having kids, I would have spent a lot more time critiquing parents, but now I am a little more sympathetic to the humanity of parents. Most of them are really just trying to do the best they can, with what they're given, to love their child(ren) well. We read books, have conversations, go to seminars, etc. to learn how to be better at follow-through, and love, and discipline. We try to have fun, to connect, to be different from our own parents, to love our precious ones well.
However. A thought occurred to me this morning, and while it is rather "duh" to state it, I have been simmering on it nonetheless.
What are we taking away from our children by making Life too easy for them? Their ability to fly.
An over-scheduled, high-performance, low-responsibility, low-decision-making, Daily Life leads children into adulthood with beautiful, but not very functional, wings. The struggle IS the point. Failing, learning, and trying again IS what strengthens.
Do we let our kids actually fail? Do I let my boys make real decisions, or do I tell them what to think? I know Love and Logic talks in great detail about keeping responsibility on the child's shoulders, and I'm seeing that this is the way they develop their wings. For use. In the real world. When we can't be there for them.
I really want my boys to be able to fly when they leave the cocoon Kris and I have been entrusted with. It's a good thing for them to break out, slowly at first, but then faster. With their own strength.
"Remember, child, it may look like helping the struggling butterfly to come out, but really all you're doing is crippling it." I want to encourage the process, not take it over.
