Lessons in Persistence: A Child’s Perspective

Children are great imitators, so give them something great to imitate.” – unknown

On any given sunny day, it’s not a question of if we’ll hit something over the fence, it’s a question of which fence. In fact, six-year-old Mr. D hits baseballs over the fence so often, we call them “neighbors” instead of “homers” because they are our opportunity to visit our neighbors.

So it was no surprise that on one of the many warm and lingering light evenings last week, Mr. D and I were playing in the back yard and lost a stomp rocket over the fence. But it went into our neighbor’s yard that is not next door but lives on the street behind us. Those retrievals mean we have to either walk around the block to knock on the door…or try to retrieve it without leaving our yard by leaning over the fence to grab it if it hasn’t fallen too far.

On this occasion, we looked over the fence and saw the stomp rocket was stuck in a tree and almost in reach. So Mr. D tried to use a rake to get it. It fell lower.

Then we got out the duct tape, created a sticky end of a pole and tried to grab it. It was two inches too short.

By this point our yard was strewn with the ladder, rake and every other tool we’d considered for the project. I decided to attempt one last thing by using the extendible branch trimmer. I touched the rocket, it shifted, but I didn’t get it.

So I said to Mr. D, “We should just walk around and get it from their yard.

He looked at me and said, “We can’t give up now!

I had to chuckle. Serves me right for teaching my kids to try and to not give up. Then they parrot it back to me at all the important moments.

I gave it one more try and bingo, we got it.

I’m still laughing. And am taking it as confirmation that I chose the right name for my podcast, The Life of Try. 🙂

(featured photo is Mr. D during the retrieval process)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

A Knock From Heaven

Our life experiences will have resonances within our innermost being, so that we will feel the rapture of being alive.” – Joseph Campbell

The knock from heaven came at 9:12am on Friday, November 7th, 2014. Having an exact time for it makes it seemingly clear when it was anything but. But it was odd enough at the time to be noticeable.

I was driving to meditation class on a crisp, fall morning in Seattle. Not in a hurry because I had plenty of time before the 9:30 start, even if I needed to circle the block a few times to find parking. Driving the route between my house and the studio where we practiced meditation was neither complicated nor congested as we congealed into a circular pattern around the neighborhood lake.

I was in a euphoric mood because I’d just signed off on everything I needed to start my cycle to try to have a baby via in-vitro fertilization (IVF) as a single parent.

It felt like everything was about to change and I was riding high on that excitement. But the anticipation came with an edge.

First, the fear about how my 45-year-old body would handle pregnancy. I’d never tried to get pregnant before so there was no history one way or another. All the tests and procedures boded well but I was well into the category of advanced maternal age.

Second, the vulnerability of doing this without a partner. I hadn’t wanted to have kids until after I got divorced. I told my ex-husband that I didn’t want to have kids. After the relationship ended I discovered that the whole truth was that I didn’t want to have kids with him.

While it seemed like the divorce was because of his infidelities, both of us sustained wounds. His announcement that it was time to have kids and my refusal to cooperate were telling markers of our relationship. He expected me to orbit around him and I was more like an asteroid on my own trajectory.

I felt healthier and happier on my own. So much so that taking the risk to start a family on my own felt manageable. Scary and exposed but within my window of tolerance.

The third element in my mix of emotions was the buoyed elation of my close friends. I had three dear women older than me that carried their own stories of desire without success when it came to having kids. All of them had made peace with how life had worked out but stood as a testament to the complexity of ambition, expectations, and relationships. They channeled pure enthusiasm for my pursuit of creating a family in a non-traditional way.

So when the knock from heaven came, it pulled me out of my effort to tease out the threads of all these emotions. That guy on the bike next to me must have rapped on the back of my car. But there was no near collision or obvious reason why. Did I get too close to the bike lane and the biker tapped a warning? I didn’t think so. Maybe they’d had wobbled and reached out a hand to steady themselves? Or maybe I was going too slow?

Those were my explanations in the moment.

A few hours later, I was working on a project in the garage when I missed a call from my mom. When I dialed her back, she haltingly told me through tears that my beloved 79-year-old dad died in a bike riding accident. A bike accident. He’d gone for a ride in a quiet neighborhood in Tucson and just happened to turn a corner and hit the frame of a passing car. What in most cases would be a broken collarbone had instead been instantly fatal because of the angle of the collision.

After I hung up, I sat there in a daze. Then I thought of the knock. Had it happened at the same moment my dad died? No, he’d died at noon. Even accounting for the time change between Tucson, where he was, and Seattle, it wasn’t even close. The knock had come two hours before he died.

My understanding of the knock has traveled its own path through the stages of grief. Denial – it didn’t mean anything. Anger – I knew life was about to change but not like that! Sadness – there was never enough time with my enthusiastic and supportive dad. Bargaining – it must mean that my dad left this world knowing my IVF plan even though I wasn’t going to tell my parents until it worked.

And finally, acceptance. Sometimes heaven knocks when you really need to pay attention. A little tap to make sure you are tuned in. So that when the invitation comes to sign up for a job, or unseal the envelope that might contain bad news, or pick up a phone call from someone you haven’t heard from in ages, you are primed to lean in.

Now that I’ve accepted this, I hear knocks from heaven differently. Eleven years after that first one, they show up as the most ordinary things. Like the sound of footfalls on the stairs first thing in the morning from my six-year-old son. The beat of my heart catches something a little extra and I come awake to the miracle of the moment. It’s a stutter that accounts for the ups and downs and twists and turns that all came together to make this life possible.

Or the pulse in my wrist when I hold hands with my 86-year-old mom as we say grace before a meal. It feels like a tap to remember that even though she seems so healthy, the comfort of her physical hand in mine will not last forever.

Or the tap of my chin against my 10-year-old daughter’s head when she gives me a hug. The angle between our heights seems to change on a daily basis and our banter reflects the accelerating maturity. I squeeze a little tighter when I feel that knock so that she can feel in both her heart and her head that I’m near.

Sometimes heaven knocks to remind me that this life is more mystical than it seems. It doesn’t need to make perfectly logical sense in order to lean in to receive the courage and heart that comes with accepting that there is more here than meets the eye.  

(featured photo from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

Lessons from Letting Go: Parenting Reflections

How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” – Winnie the Pooh

There’s a lot of grief that comes with parenting, isn’t there? And I’m not referring to the grief the kids give us. I’m talking about the variety that comes with letting go.

My 10-year-old daughter< Miss O, changed the wallpaper of my phone to be a rotation of pictures of her and her younger brother. Now every time I tap the phone, I see a picture of one of the two of them, usually as younger kids.

Along with the cute pictures comes the grief. It’s small but I feel a stab of knowing I’ll never hold them on my hip like that again. Or that the era of toddler speak that required Momma interpretation has ended. Or that we don’t have so many moments of un-self-conscious joy anymore. There are all sorts of things to mourn as I get that momentary hit of how much we’ve changed. As neuroscientist Maya Shankar explains, every change comes with a loss of identity.

When I leaned into the grief, I found three things blooming underneath.

Gratitude. My sister-in-law’s mom, Georgia, repeatedly told me a story when I first had kids. She said that when my sister-in-law was six or seven, she asked Georgia to play. Georgia laments that her reply was, “No, Honey, I’d rather read my book.

I learned from that story to say “yes” so that I’m not talking about it when I’m 75-years-old. There have been many moments it has been hard to put down my book or stop progress on something I want to get done. But more or less, when my kids have said, “Mommy, look?” or “Mom, do you want to play ball?” I’ve said yes. So now when I feel the pangs of grief that come with letting go the younger selves of my kids, I also feel the gratitude for all the memories we have made and continue to make.

Learning. My kids have learned to walk, talk, ride a bike, read, play musical instruments, bat a ball and a myriad of other things. But the grief makes me realize how much I’ve learned as well. Things like that I had name my feelings so I could teach them how to name theirs. Also how to pitch baseballs, get grass stains from the ballfield out of pants, make slime, and clean slime from clothes too. These years have not only been full of memories but also lessons and growth too.

Faith. Miss O is heading to middle school next year. The horizon is already changing with boys, more complex relationships, and a wider circle of independent activities. The number of things I can’t control is growing exponentially larger every day.

Of course, I’ve never been able to control much. This whole journey of parenting has helped me lean into faith. To say “yes” to making memories, learning, loving and leading, and then leave the rest to God.

Grief is uncomfortable. Even the small “g” kind that I’m feeling these days. But underneath it is a whole lot of goodness that reminds me to lean in to creating a life worth growing out of.

(featured photo is Miss O and Mr. D in 2019)

The Long View of Life

A heart that loves is always young.” – Greek Proverb

My kids and I attended a memorial service for a 98-year-old friend, Jean, this past weekend. There is a lot of life to honor when someone lives that long.

It’s tempting to do it by what she did: she was a mother to four children, a member of her church for more than 70 years, she was an elementary school teacher, and when she retired from teaching, chose to work at the information booth at the local mall for more than 20 years.

Or by what she loved: she loved to play bridge and to cook. She cooked for the church youth group every week for 4 years and then published a cookbook of how to feed large groups.

But what struck me most was the quality of her relationships. She made friends wherever she went. In fact, I didn’t get to know her well until she was in her 90’s. Jean made the effort to reach out to me with little things she passed along from her family to my kids. I wrote a post about her in 2021 when she gave me a copy of the cookbook she published in the 1980’s. There was a woman at the service who had been a friend of Jean’s for 94 years.

But Jean’s life wasn’t just a walk in the park. Forty years ago, one of her daughters was murdered by a stalker when she was in her late 20’s. Going through that ordeal was when Jean got to know my dad so I know she forged relationships in good times and in bad.

Here’s what I loved about going to Jean’s service. It was a reminder to me that even when life seems complicated, messy and hard, we make it through because of the relationships we build. And it’s never too late.

(featured photo from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

Please check out the How to Share podcast, a podcast where guests share what they’ve lived and learned!

How to Share A Return Home

The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” – Joseph Campbell

I lived in the Philippines until I was almost seven-years-old. When I went back to visit with my family 22 years later, I was surprised that I could navigate a few streets near where we used to live. It was like a pull that oriented me to where I spent the first years of my life.

So I related to Mario Cartaya’s phrase of letting the subconscious guide when he shared his emotional journey back to Cuba after 56 years on the How to Share podcast. Mario has written a touching and insightful memoir about that trip, Journey Back Into the Vault.

Mario tells us how his family’s rushed departure from Cuba as a nine-year-old left him with a vault of childhood memories that he couldn’t unlock. Mario shares stories from his 1-week journey back to Cuba that helped him unlock the memories in that vault. We talk about how so many magical moments unfolded as he visited the scenes of his childhood.

We talk about the close-knit sense of community in Cuba. Mario tells us about the Cuban diaspora and how the pain of separation affects families on both sides.

Mario tells us about his current project chronicling the historic friendship that the US and Cuba once shared.

Mario is a wonderful guest who delivers a strong sense of hope for whatever divides us and a reminder that we can all work to find our own inner peace and deliver it to this world. I know you’ll love this episode and his book, Journey Back Into the Vault!

Key Themes:

  • Mario’s traumatic departure from Cuba in 1960
  • The vault of childhood memories and their significance
  • Revisiting childhood homes and places in Cuba
  • The impact of family separation and diaspora
  • The historic friendship between the US and Cuba from 1860-1960
  • Mario’s current project on US-Cuba relations

Check out this short clip of Mario’s deep and insightful elevator pitch for Journey Back Into the Vault:

Here are some ways you can watch or listen to all of this fascinating and compelling episode:

Please listen, watch, provide feedback and subscribe.

Reinvention, Resilience and The Courage to Try| Lindsey Goldstein on Gap Year The Life of Try: Personal growth, one try at a time.

What do you do when life falls apart? In this episode, Wynne Leon sits down with Lindsey Goldstein, author of Gap Year, for a conversation about personal growth, self-improvement, and finding the courage to try—even when the path ahead feels uncertain. From writing and running to parenting, failure, and fresh starts, they explore how confidence is built one brave step at a time. If you’ve ever wondered whether it’s too late to try something new, this uplifting episode is a reminder that growth often begins the moment we say yes to the challenge.In this episode, you’ll learn: → When life falls apart, it can also become an opening → Courage often starts before confidence → Trying, failing, and learning are all part of growth. → Small steps lead to bigger transformations. → It is never too late to begin again → You do not always end up where you expected—but you still growLindsey Goldstein shares how writing in short windows of time highlight that progress often comes from regular effort, not waiting for the ideal moment. Check out Lindsey's book Gap Year and experience Jane's courage vicariously – but beware, it's contagious!If your kids are leaving for college, you want to try a new hobby, or a travel spot is calling you, this episode is for you. 📘 Order Gap Year on Amazon🌐 Visit Lindsey Goldstein's website🌐 Show notes and more inspiration: https://wynneleon.com🔔 Subscribe for more:Subscribe to The Life of Try for more conversations on:personal growth, creativity, reinvention, resilience, writing, and mindset.📌 Subscribe & Stay UpdatedABOUT MEHi, I’m Wynne Leon — host of The Life of Try, a personal growth and self-improvement podcast exploring resilience, reinvention, uncertainty, and the courage to keep trying.Through thoughtful interviews, reflective conversations, and real-life stories, I share insights to help you navigate change, get unstuck, and move forward with more intention.🌍 Website: https://wynneleon.com━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━🎥 Watch Next➡️ Letting Go Of Outcomes: The Mindset That Keeps You Moving➡️ 48: How to Get Unstuck: Michael Yang on Saying Yes, Resilience and Coming Alive➡️ How to Finally Write That Book You've Been Dreaming About | Writing Motivation 🔗 CONNECT WITH ME:• Website:→ https://wynneleon.com/• Instagram:→ https://www.instagram.com/wynneleon/• Facebook:→ https://www.facebook.com/wynne.leon/
  1. Reinvention, Resilience and The Courage to Try| Lindsey Goldstein on Gap Year
  2. 51: Letting Go of Outcomes: The Mindset That Keeps You Moving
  3. 50: How to Write the Book You've Been Meaning to Write | Dr. Victoria Atkinson (Slivers)
  4. 49: Personal Growth Pivot Points: Pause, Quit or Keep Going?
  5. 48-How to Get Unstuck: Michael Yang on Saying Yes, Resilience, and Coming Alive

Links for this episode:

How to Share a Return Home Transcript

Journey Back Into the Vault on Barnes and Noble and Amazon

Mario Cartaya’s website

From the host:

My book about my beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

(featured photo from Pexels)

How to Share Perspective

“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.” – Sydney Smith

I’ve told this story before but it still cracks me up. When my daughter was three-years- old, I asked her how many houses she could see when she looked out the ground floor window of our house, it was about three.

Then I took her up to the floor above and ask her how many she could see and it was about seven.

Finally we went out onto the little deck on our rooftop and I asked her how many she could see and it was more than she had numbers for. “Miss O” I said “this is the perspective that you get when you are older, you know that everything fits into a larger picture and you are able to see more of it.

Miss O’s eyes got wide and she looked at me like I was a crazy lady. I admit, that lesson was a little before it’s time. But I love a good dose of perspective. It’s one of the reasons I enjoyed this latest How to Share podcast conversation with author and educator Andrea Simon about her wonderful book, Did You Live the Life You Wanted?

We talk about perspective, regret and the meaning of life. She tells us why she choose to write this story as a novel and how the course she taught about how to write about family plays into her writing.

There are so many fantastic female friendships and characters in this book that spans 50 years. Andrea talks about how she asked men and women if they lived the life they wanted and what she learned differs when women and men answer that question.

We talk about the meaning of life and how writing plays into that. Andrea’s incredible experience as an educator and facilitator shines through as we dig into the depth of life and how we share it.

This is a great episode full of perspective and wisdom with a thoughtful guest. I know you’ll love it.

Takeaways

  • The novel spans 50 years, highlighting female friendships.
  • Writing about family requires sensitivity and respect.
  • Men and women often have different perspectives on life choices.
  • Older women may feel they had fewer options in their careers.
  • Regret can lead to personal growth and new opportunities.
  • It’s important to pursue personal desires as we age.

Here’s Andrea’s fabulous elevator pitch for her novel Did You Have the Life You Wanted?:

Here are some ways you can watch or listen to all of this insightful and helpful episode:

Please listen, watch, provide feedback and subscribe.

Reinvention, Resilience and The Courage to Try| Lindsey Goldstein on Gap Year The Life of Try: Personal growth, one try at a time.

What do you do when life falls apart? In this episode, Wynne Leon sits down with Lindsey Goldstein, author of Gap Year, for a conversation about personal growth, self-improvement, and finding the courage to try—even when the path ahead feels uncertain. From writing and running to parenting, failure, and fresh starts, they explore how confidence is built one brave step at a time. If you’ve ever wondered whether it’s too late to try something new, this uplifting episode is a reminder that growth often begins the moment we say yes to the challenge.In this episode, you’ll learn: → When life falls apart, it can also become an opening → Courage often starts before confidence → Trying, failing, and learning are all part of growth. → Small steps lead to bigger transformations. → It is never too late to begin again → You do not always end up where you expected—but you still growLindsey Goldstein shares how writing in short windows of time highlight that progress often comes from regular effort, not waiting for the ideal moment. Check out Lindsey's book Gap Year and experience Jane's courage vicariously – but beware, it's contagious!If your kids are leaving for college, you want to try a new hobby, or a travel spot is calling you, this episode is for you. 📘 Order Gap Year on Amazon🌐 Visit Lindsey Goldstein's website🌐 Show notes and more inspiration: https://wynneleon.com🔔 Subscribe for more:Subscribe to The Life of Try for more conversations on:personal growth, creativity, reinvention, resilience, writing, and mindset.📌 Subscribe & Stay UpdatedABOUT MEHi, I’m Wynne Leon — host of The Life of Try, a personal growth and self-improvement podcast exploring resilience, reinvention, uncertainty, and the courage to keep trying.Through thoughtful interviews, reflective conversations, and real-life stories, I share insights to help you navigate change, get unstuck, and move forward with more intention.🌍 Website: https://wynneleon.com━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━🎥 Watch Next➡️ Letting Go Of Outcomes: The Mindset That Keeps You Moving➡️ 48: How to Get Unstuck: Michael Yang on Saying Yes, Resilience and Coming Alive➡️ How to Finally Write That Book You've Been Dreaming About | Writing Motivation 🔗 CONNECT WITH ME:• Website:→ https://wynneleon.com/• Instagram:→ https://www.instagram.com/wynneleon/• Facebook:→ https://www.facebook.com/wynne.leon/
  1. Reinvention, Resilience and The Courage to Try| Lindsey Goldstein on Gap Year
  2. 51: Letting Go of Outcomes: The Mindset That Keeps You Moving
  3. 50: How to Write the Book You've Been Meaning to Write | Dr. Victoria Atkinson (Slivers)
  4. 49: Personal Growth Pivot Points: Pause, Quit or Keep Going?
  5. 48-How to Get Unstuck: Michael Yang on Saying Yes, Resilience, and Coming Alive

Links for this episode:

How to Share Perspective transcript

Andrea Simon’s website

Did You Have the Life You Wanted? on Barnes & Noble, and Amazon

From the host:

My book about my beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

(featured photo from Pexels)

Showing Up

Please remember, it is what you are that heals, not what you know.” – Carl Jung

My ten-year-old daughter, Miss O, had a stomach bug this weekend. It hit hard on Friday night and then followed that typical 24 hour course where she felt miserable and threw up a half dozen times and then was mostly done.

When six-year-old Mr D realized that his sister wasn’t feeling well, he set out to make her his famous medium water. You know – not too hot and not too cold. In a lovely confluence where the one thing he knows how to make and the only thing she could keep down met, it was a beautiful gesture.

There was little else that Mr. D and I could do for her. She spent most of her day crying out in agony. Witnessing suffering like that makes me feel crummy. For me, helplessness usually turns into irritability. Fortunately, I was reminded of three things that I’ve heard/read lately:

From poet Mark Nepo, “… someone I love comes along in pain and I start dumping my pockets, looking for the one thing I know that will help them. But time and time again, the only thing they want is for me to open my heart like a sponge to them. They only want to be heard and held.” I swear my pockets are hanging out for how often I dig to try to find something to help only to learn this again and again.

When I talked with Sharon Eubank on the How to Share podcast she related some great lessons from her decades trying to help others as Global Director of Humanitarian Services for the LDS church. The one that really stuck with me was “My solution to your problem will always be wrong.” In this case, the foods that Miss O wanted to eat when she started to feel better wouldn’t have been my picks – but they worked for her.

And then in my most recent podcast conversation with author Amy Weinland Daughters she spoke of not knowing what to do for her friend, Dana, whose teenage son had cancer and then died. Amy started writing letters as a way to show up. She didn’t think it would make a difference but when Dana’s daughters asked Dana when she thought Amy would stop, Dana replied with something like, “I hope never.” We think what we are doing for someone who is suffering or grieving isn’t enough. But it does make a difference.

So I made an effort to pause my productivity efforts that made me feel like I was doing something by washing sheets and sanitizing bathrooms to just show up and stay present when Miss O cried out in pain and discomfort. I rubbed her back or her feet, told stories, and ordered more medium water from Mr. D. It really is what you are that heals. It’s all part of the magic of being there for someone.

(featured photo from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast celebrates the art of teaching, learning, giving, and growing.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Share the Load

It’s not the load that weighs you down, it’s the way you carry it.” – C.S. Lewis

When my kids and I recently watched the movie, “A Boy Called Po,” 10-year-old Miss O asked what the description “heavy” meant. The movie is about a widowed father struggling to take care of his autistic son in the wake of his wife’s death and a lot of work pressure. Heavy applies but it’s also a delightful drama.

We’ve had some really interesting family conversations about this movie. Miss O really empathized with the boy in the story who seems to be about 10 or 12-years-old. She was also pretty critical of the dad who she thought should be more patient.

This came on the wake of comment she made to me that the staff at school working with disability students should be more patient. From my point of view, both the dad in the movie and the staff at school are doing the best they can and a pretty good job. So I countered that adults need empathy too.

This is where it gets interesting – because then Miss O said she wanted to do everything I do in a day just to see. We picked Saturday of this weekend. I gave her a list of all the food prep, pet care, chores, and special projects we had for the day.

I checked in to see how she was feeling at lunchtime. She said, “Right now I feel okay. We’ll see how I feel at the end of the day. I can see it might be okay to do for a day but it would be tiring to do all day, every day, for years.

Then we returned home a little before 5pm after a fun outing, and it was time feed the dog, the cat and make dinner. She made a plan of what she wanted to cook, then discovered she had to empty the dishwasher she’d run earlier, and in the midst of doing that, her younger brother said, “I’m hungry.”   

I offered to help and even so, it was almost two hours between when we came home from our activity and when she got to sit down and eat her dinner. Then the kitchen had to be cleaned, the gecko had to be fed, and there were snacks to prepare for while we watched shows.

At the end of the day she said, “I don’t know how you do it. It’s impossible to get it all done.” She’d finished one load of laundry but it needed to be pulled out of the dryer to fold so the second load could be dried. She observed, “it’d be okay if you could carry things over to the next day but then you have to start everything else all over again.”

For my part, I just tried to let her do it, do everything she asked, and roll with her decisions and timeframe. So I experienced what it’s like to not be in control of the flow and the timing. It was a great lesson for how adaptable my kids are. I also felt far more rested at the end of the day and it gave me an idea of how much wear and tear what I’m trying to do is.

So I’m scripting my own movie, “A Girl Called O.” It’s a comedy, with a side of drama, and the lead is pretty heroic. She cares enough to want to understand and try it all. In the end, not everything is tidied up but the characters care enough for each other to show up and share the load.  

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast celebrates the art of teaching, learning, giving, and growing.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Out of the Mouth of Babes: Three Lines That Open Us Up

Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love.” – Lao Tzu

One of my takeaways from social psychologist Jonathan Haidt’s recent book The Anxious Generation is that kids need to practice working out their relationships with each other. Negotiating what they want and also how to take care of each other is invaluable experience.

So I try to give my kids a lot of room to relate before stepping in. It feels like I have one ear open for how they talk to each other, especially when it’s at high volume. I hear plenty of statements like: “You can’t do that, it’s not fair.” and “Don’t do that ever again.”

But this week I heard three lines that immediately changed the tenor of the conversation. And the best thing about them? They were not specific to childhood.

Line #1

  • Six-year-old said, “I wish Miss O wanted to help.”

And she did. But prior to Mr. D saying that, she wasn’t clued in that he needed help.

Line #2

  • Ten-year-old Miss O said, “Okay, I’m listening.

The conversation was tense before Miss O said this. Once she said it, they worked out whatever it was they were trying to do.

Line #3

Mr. D said, “Imagine we could…

And then they were off building a better world.

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast celebrates the art of teaching, learning, giving, and growing.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Life Begins Now: The Parenting Trap

“It still amazes me that we insist on teaching algebra to all students when only about 20 percent will ever use it and fail to teach anything about parenting when the vast majority of our students will become parents.” – Nel Noddings

My dad used to tell this joke: Three religious leaders were asked the question, “When does life begin?”

The Catholic priest said, “At conception.

The Protestant pastor replied, “At birth.

The Rabbi answered, “When the last kid goes to college and the dog dies.

I’m laughing. Wow do I feel this. As a parent of young children, I do more things in a day that I wouldn’t choose to do than things I would choose. That alone can make me feel as if my life is not my own. Add in the noise and chaos and it’s hard to find peace. Taken all together, that can make this phase of life seem like one to rush through.

 But I know I can’t assume that I’ll be able to enjoy my kids when they are mature adults. I had my kids when I was aged 46 and then 50. When my youngest is 30, I’ll be 80-years-old. Hopefully an alive, healthy, and active 80 years old but nothing is a given. I know that’s true at any age.

So I try to flip the punchline and enjoy my kids, and life, now.

Cleaning up messes

Things in my house are spilled nearly every day. Sometimes by me. Often not very big deals like when a glass of milk with a top on spilled the other day. It just left a corona of milk dotting the carpet.

Here’s the thing I’ve realized. It’s a chance to convey to my dear children that I’ll love them when things are messy.

Bonus points: Longevity specialist Dr. Peter Attia includes getting up from the floor with max of one arm for support on his Centenarian Decathlon list. It includes the ten most important physical tasks you will want to be able to do for the rest of your life. Every time I’m down on the floor cleaning, I celebrate working out the strength and neuromuscular control that I need.

Helping with personal hygiene

It’s funny that kids don’t come with personal hygiene habits baked in. I’d prefer not to have to remind others to brush their teeth or wipe their tush. Add a dog, cat and a crested gecko in the mix and I can pretty much guarantee that most days will have some involvement in someone else’s hygiene.

I love this one because it’s foundational to my outlook. It’s forced me as a congenital optimist, to accept that every day is not going to be perfect, comfortable, or even pretty.

And long after I’m gone, I can trust my kids will have some idea of how to keep their bodies safe.

Bonus points: My personal hygiene has suffered as a parent. Kudos to me when I remember to take care of myself as well.

Feeding them

There are some days where I make food, clean up from making food, only to find that by that time, more food is already required.

But, whether real or metaphorical, I’d argue that giving others fuel to live by is what we are here for.

Bonus points: This is a reminder that cooking is all about exercising our creative muscles. How can I make something when I realize I’m missing an ingredient? How do I make something that’ll last with what I have?

Melt downs

Oh, those moments when big emotions take over and make us uncomfortable. And by us, I mean not only the person melting down but also everyone close at hand. It can be precarious, unpredictable, and draining. It’s also 100% real.

Recently, I took my kids rock climbing. My six-year-old son got stuck halfway up the rock face. He couldn’t find a way past – not moving right or left or shifting his weight. He started to cry. Since I was belaying him, there was nothing I could do except be there with him. And it was the perfect metaphor because I was connected to him by a rope.

From 40 feet away, I shouted up my empathy for his frustration, tried some suggestions, told him he could come down, emphasized that I knew he could do it – everything I could do to help from afar. Finally he shook it off. Then he managed the coolest move — palming the rock with his right hand and smearing the face with his left foot, he leveraged himself up high enough to the next good hold.

It was as rousing of a feat of personal triumph as I’ve ever witnessed.

Here’s where you get to pick your image: port in the storm, rope anchor on a mountain, sacred ground – you have the chance to be that for someone else. And to learn a little bit about what it kicks off in you as well. We don’t often get to see adults do that – the trying, melt down, return and overcoming is usually a longer (and more hidden) process for grown-up risks and triumphs. There is nothing as powerful as watching someone overcome some real adversity. With young kids we get to see that nearly every day.

And then we get to celebrate their success.

Bonus points: It’s hard to stay regulated when someone else is dysregulated. Whether it’s my verbal 10-year-old daughter talking grown-up sounding sass that covers for her childlike emotions underneath or a stranger at the store, I feel it all the way through. But all this practice is helping my central nervous system to be buff!

Distraction

When awake and nearby, my kids provide continual distraction. I could be inside sitting at my computer typing and instead I’m out in a creek skipping rocks. Or I could be sitting on the couch with my phone in hand texting and instead I’m having a dance party and moving my hips. I hunt for snails and hold my kids’ hands while they learn to hoverboard.

Oh, that’s right – I’ve never once regretted a dance party, a rock skipping contest, time in nature, or moving my body.

Bonus points. Psychologist Dr. Alison Gopnik says that kids have lantern brain. They see everything that is around. Adults have spotlight brain – we focus on what needs to be done. Switching into lantern brain can help us solve problems, be creative, and open us to new insights. The distractions can actually help us with solutions for our work when we return to it.

Invasion of personal space

Yesterday my six-year-old son stuffed something in the pocket of my jeans. Gah.  

I’m all for enforcing the boundaries necessary to maintain healthy relationships. But before I decide what those boundaries are, I consider that my kids embody what we look like as open creatures that assume other people will help you carry your stuff.

Bonus points: Ask someone else to help you carry your stuff.

Time

I’m the only one that cares about time in my house. Being on time, getting to bed, the school bell is about to ring, dinner time, time for annual physicals, or it’s about time. All of it.

Because I’m the one that understands time is limited.

Bonus points: Stop caring about the future and enjoy the now.

I’m not guaranteed to get to 80 years old. But I bet that if I do, parenting will have extended my healthspan so that I enjoy it more. And I know I’ll be glad that I didn’t wait until the kids went to college and the dog died to begin living.

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast about collaboration – sharing leads to success.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.