I have been reflecting recently on how often I hear, “Failure Is Not An Option.” From earnest motivational posters to hard-bitten action films, this phrase is bandied about as if “failure” is tantamount to total annihilation, like the destruction of the planet Alderaan by the Death Star in “Star Wars.” No, we definitely don’t want that.
At the same time, I see chirpy messages like “Reach for the Stars!” “Go for it!” and “You Can Do It!”
So… which is it? It can’t possibly be both! The command, “Go for it, but for heaven’s sake don’t fail!” seems perfectly calculated to cause an epic choke and an epidemic of anxiety. Oh wait, that’s what we have, isn’t it? It is axiomatic that we learn more from our failures than from our triumphs, so how have we made any result short of first place so toxic? Of course we always want our kids to do their best, but are they always clear on the difference between doing their best and doing the best?
I recently entered a national contest – never mind what it was – and spent some time studying past winners on the website with my daughter. The skill and expertise demonstrated in those examples made my effort look pretty amateurish, and the Lovely K. and I agreed that my chances of winning looked pretty slim given the competition. So why do it? Why even try?
My willingness to fail is very recent! Time was when I would do pretty much anything to avoid putting my standing as a winner at risk. That meant I had to restrict myself to a quite narrow range of things that I’m really good at, and steer clear of serious competition. One by one, other activities or interests withered away, killed by the life-sucking judgment of “not good enough.” Failure had too sharp a sting.
But as a parent, I see the harmful effects of the fear of failure in my daughter; there are plenty of things she shrinks back from trying, or things she throws in the towel on after a first failed effort. “Failure is not an option” means it’s better not to try than to come up short. And yet, if our reach exceeds our grasp we still come away with something in hand. Even if you don’t make it all the way to the top of the mountain, you still have a better view than you get at the bottom.
I sometimes suspect that we’ve created a rigid dichotomy around the concepts of winning and losing. There’s first place (winner) and then there’s everything else (losers). But really? Would you really say that the Olympic athletes who don’t win a medal are losers? That the kids who finish second, third and fourth (etc.) in the National Spelling Bee are losers? Success is measured in many ways, not just by a glossy first place ribbon. I don’t advocate the “everybody gets a trophy,” standard, which rewards kids just for showing up. But somewhere between Failure Is Not an Option and Everybody’s a Winner there is a happy medium, where hard work is recognized and applauded, and perseverance is a reward that will enrich your child’s entire life – not to mention what your child might learn along the way about what she is capable of, and who she is as an individual.
So I am setting my sights on some activities I will probably fail at, trying to summon each of the six types of courage in turn to risk disappointment, loss, blows to my ego, and possibly even some bumps and bruises as well. In some ways it’s a performance for an audience of one (my daughter), but I also know I’ll end up with a little bit of stardust on my fingers. Here I go: watch me fail!
]]>“Never give in. Never give in. Never, never, never, never.”
– Churchill
If you’ve ever seen the movie Braveheart, you know something of Scotland’s struggle for independence from King Edward Longshanks in the late 13th and early 14th Century. Here is one of the legends from that era. The next time you are tempted to intone, “If at first you don’t succeed, try try again,” tell this story instead. Perseverance is one of the qualities that physical courage can activate in us, and we can see it in the tiniest illustrations if we are observant:
Robert the Bruce, true king of Scotland, had tried six times to prevail in battle against the English. Six times he had failed, and now he was on the run, hunted like a wild animal from forest to farm to glen. Desperate, and with faltering hope, he took refuge in a cave while the rain beat steadily outside.
As he gazed with weary eyes through the entryway, he noticed a spider hanging from the ceiling. It was working a web, and seemed to be determined to fasten its next strand to a stone some distance away. It launched itself, swinging through the air, but missed, then patiently climbed back up to the start again, and made another attempt. Robert the Bruce watched, fascinated, while the spider struggled again and again to reach the stone. Six times the spider swung itself through the air, and six times it failed.
“I know what it is to lose six times,” the exiled king said to the spider. “My heart goes out to you.”
Once more, the spider launched itself with all the force it could muster, and this time gained its prize. “Yes!” the king cheered. “So shall I try a seventh time! I will not give up hope!”
And indeed, he was able to rally an army around himself, and encourage his people with new zeal. This time he prevailed, and drove the English from Scotland at the Battle of Bannockburn.
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| Lisa’s son competing in board breaking in November, 2011 as a “Recommended Black Belt” |
Jennifer and my children are testing for their Black Belts in Tae Kwon Do (TKD) this weekend. It’s kind of a big deal. This test, six and a half hours in total, is the culmination of four years of study. They have each hit their own personal Black Belt walls and wanted to quit. As I wrote about in Quitters, Campers, and Quitters: Which One Are You?, what matters is that they didn’t quit and, as their parents, we didn’t quit on them.
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| Our kids starting out on their TKD Journey four years ago as “White Belts” |
Our kids started to study TKD within one month of one another. Jennifer’s daughter led the pack. She had just arrived from Ethiopia , and my kids had just moved with my husband and I from Canada to the U.S.
I’ll be honest, I was reticent about my kids studying a martial art. Before signing my kids up, I met with and basically drilled Master Miller, the owner of the school Jennifer had found, about his approach to teaching TKD—which was code for “Are you going to teach my kids to be more fearful and aggressive in this world?” That was my big fear. I didn’t want them to learn to be looking over their shoulders for potential apprehenders or attackers. I’m not trying to raise my kids in a bubble, but I am pretty clear on the importance of not marinating them in fear. Master Miller was tolerant of my over-the-top questioning, and stated simply, “Well, Mrs. Dungate, we are a school that teaches a self-defense martial art.” Duh! I also figured that since my husband has a Black Belt in Aikido, and he’s the kindest, most peaceful man I know, our kids should be okay. It helped to reflect on the times that contrary to my fear, knowing some basic self-defense had made me more confident—even courageous—to fend off a groper on a subway in Japan , avoid being robbed on a bridge in Rome
Turns out the risk I took in trusting Master Miller with my kids has been one of the all-time best decisions I’ve made as a parent. You couldn’t find a more skilled, intelligent, generous, funny, or all-around inspiring mentor for kids than this man. He is, to my mind, integrity personified. One of the things I’ve learned as a parent: sharing the responsibility of educating our children with other inspiring teachers is a good thing to do. And you can’t argue with the inspiring core values that are the cornerstones of his mat chats and the words that line his school walls: courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, indomitable spirit. It’s inspiring to witness to the transformation of some of the off-the wall, disrespectful, temper-tantruming kids that come in the doors of his school, and the upstanding citizens who walk out.
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| Jennifer’s daughter a few years ago practicing in class as a “Green Belt” |
My son recently commented how much he appreciates that I’m not a “Tiger Mother.” He’s too busy to have read Amy Chua’s bestseller extolling the value of that particular parenting style. I had to ask him what he meant. His reply, “Like one of those moms who screams from the sidelines, demanding that their kid do better, kick higher, punch harder, and generally needs to be on the mats herself.” I laughed. It turns out that my somewhat laid back approach to TKD (as it isn’t my passion) seems to have actually paid off in my kids’ case. I can’t be bossy or controlling in this area of their life. Which is probably a huge relief for them, I’m sure. It has also required some letting go. Accepting that they are growing up, making friends, finding mentors, and learning cool stuff in life that I have absolutely nothing to do with.
While they study I often go for a run, which is my passion. At least I’m not a total hypocrite extolling the virtues of physical fitness, insisting that they attend classes when they are too tired, while being a total couch potato myself. Unlike my husband I don’t possess a Black Belt—except for the super cute skinny one I just picked up on sale at Banana Republic. But I digress.
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| Lisa’s daughter and son practicing their “High Blue Belt” form in tandem a couple of years ago |
In my kids’ darkest moments during the past four years, I’ve shared my experiences hitting half and full-marathon walls. But most of all, Jennifer, my husband, and I just kept cheering our kids on, urging them forward (even refusing for them to quit at times), paying their school fees, and filling up our gas tanks. The most important lessons I think we’ve all learned relate to the value of sticking with something we said we would, respect for the master-student relationship and the process involved with learning something challenging (especially in our age of instant gratification), and enjoying the learning as much as the final result. The skill, courage, confidence, and sense of accomplishment our kids have gained? Priceless.
I asked Master Miller recently what he thought it took for the approximately 10% of children who actually complete their Black Belt from amongst the 90% of children that quit before finishing? What separates the wheat from chaff, so to speak? The two factors he identified as the source of Black Belt success are well worth considering as valuable insight about what it takes to raise a courageous kid:
“For most children, this is the first long term goal the will have achieved in their entire lives. The first factor is the student themselves. Everyone starts martial arts with a different level of skill, athleticism, motivation, discipline and spirit. It is always dependent on what a student is willing to put in, that translates to what they are willing to get back. This is why each new black belt we have slightly redefines what it means to be a ‘Black Belt.’ Just like no two people are the same, no two black belts’ experiences are the same. Each student has their own struggles, difficulties, and challenges, but they also have rewarding, and joyous experiences. The key is about perseverance: Keeping your eyes on your goals and not allowing the other challenges that you face to diminish the strength of your resolve. If you focus on your difficulties, they will appear to grow in strength, but if you focus on your goals, the challenges seem to diminish.
The second main factor would have to be a support system around them that is encouraging and supportive
. Everyone has feelings of wanting to give up along the path of anything you can consider calling a ‘journey’. Unfortunately, there are too many families who have clearly learned about the huge benefits that martial arts have to offer, but are not willing to say it is not okay to quit and take the necessary steps to inspire, mentor and guide a child on the right path. Sometimes, all it would have taken was a nudge in the right direction to help steer someone on a better path. Sometimes, we hand over the rudder of the boat to a child before they are ready to handle the responsibility and the repercussions of their decisions. There are some black belts who never needed to hear a single thing from their parents; for the other 99%, each one speaks in their essays about how grateful they were to their parents for the guidance and added motivation that it took to assist them in reaching their goal.”Special thanks, and tons of gratitude, to Master Miller for tolerating my initial interrogation, and to his parents and team of instructors (especially Mr. Gray) for believing in our children, and being such inspiring mentors for all our children! Click here to learn more about Cutting Edge Martial Arts.
Dear Reader, care to share your or your child’s learning about completing a long-term goal? Post a comment. We’d LOVE to hear from you, too!
]]>“I’ve learned that courage and compassion are two sides of the same coin, and that every warrior, every humanitarian, every citizen is built to live with both. In fact, to win a war, to create peace, to save a life, or just to live a good life requires of us—every one of us—that we be both good and strong.”
~ Eric Greitens, Author of The Heart and The Fist: The Education of a Humanitarian, The Making of a Navy Seal (2011)
So, what’s a parent to do to help raise a good citizen in this world?
Let’s face it our kids need to be equipped to be able handle increasingly complex moral issues involving a multitude of cultures participating together in a global economy (stacked precariously on questionable foundations), with exponential population growth, and environmental concerns that don’t leave any corner of our globe unaffected. The ripple effect of our daily decisions from how treat our neighbor, to whether to vote or not, to where we spend our money, to how we deal with our garbage now send ripples farther and wider than ever before in history. Learning to solve our planet’s problems in sustainable, cooperative ways is more important than ever!
Here are Dr. Lisa’s suggestions to consider:
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Nurture a strong, secure, and loving bond with your child from infancy through adolescence. Through this bond, you can become a powerful mentor for your child—especially during tough times.
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Show empathy and compassion for others. Share out loud your curiosity about how others feel, think, believe, and live. Make it okay to discuss differences and notice all the similarities the human family shares.
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Offer lots of opportunities through family time and socialization opportunities for your child to develop care and concern for others, their community, and the environment.
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Model the values you wish your child to embrace: honesty, kindness, etc.
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Define the values that matter to you as a family, notice them in your everyday life, discuss why they are important to you? Pick a value a week, like those Lion’s Whiskers associates most with moral courage:· Loyalty· Trust· Honesty· Integrity· Accountability· Responsibility· Fairness· Impartiality· Justice.
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Show self-discipline in creating the kind of life you wish them to emulate.
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Teach goal-setting and decision-making skills.
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Discuss and weigh the pros and cons associated with simple and complex moral dilemmas involving not only “right vs. wrong,” but also even more complicated “right vs. right” or “wrong vs. wrong” scenarios.
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Show respect for yourself and others, especially your children.
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Put the Six Types of Courage into action—let your child witness you walking your talk, taking personal responsibility, and having the courage to stand up for what you believe in.
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Embrace a multicultural perspective for what is good and right in this world—you don’t have to eat, marry, or pray like others, but you can still model respect and tolerance for differences. You can venture to be curious about, seek to understand, and even embrace different cultural beliefs as appropriate.
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Model what a good citizen is for your child, and work together to make your family, community, and the world-at-large a better place to live. Seek out lots of opportunities to do good and be charitable in the world together.
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Pick a cause you believe in to contribute your time, money, signatures, and care to as a family.
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Praise your child when they act in ways that are moral, good, and in sync with your family values.
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Provide a community of like-minded friends, family members, teachers, religious and/or civic leaders for your child to learn from.
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Tell stories from your own life or those of moral courage heroes you respect.
- Read traditional moral tales (this is a link to Jennifer’s bookshelf) and discuss the life lessons they understand imbedded within the story. Jennifer regularly provides tales to choose from in her previous posts, too! Just click on this link to find a treasure trove of moral courage stories to share. Help them put into their own words the moral of the story, see if they can offer an example from their own life when they’ve had to “never give up,” “do the right thing,” “tell the truth,” or “be loyal to a friend”. Highlight future opportunities for them to put into practice the particular value you wish them to emulate. Narvaez, Gleason, Mitchell, and Bentley (1999) caution parents and teachers that simply reading moral stories to children does not guarantee their understanding of the core moral message. In the imagination of a five year-old, a story like The Little Engine That Could (1930), the “Little Engine” could be faced with the nonmoral theme (one highly related to courage) of simply never giving up. A nine year-old reader, on the other hand, may relate to the underlying moral lesson pertaining to importance of perseverance in order to help others. As children mature, and their prefrontal cortex continues to develop into young adulthood, they are capable of increasingly complex interpretations and better able to identify complex moral dilemmas and a story’s underlying moral message.
For more guidance about how to help your child become a responsible citizen, Navaraez (2005) helped develop this downloadable book, thanks to funding from the U.S. Department of Education and the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001.
How are you raising your child to be a good citizen? We’d love to hear your ideas, too!
“Courage and perseverance have a magical talisman, before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish into air.”
~ John Quincy Adams
Another story about the courage to ask for help comes to us from India, and is another Jataka tale. This is a story that that acclaimed storyteller, Rafe Martin, has retold in a number of books, and it is called, The Brave Little Parrot.
In this story, a parrot sees a fire break out in the forest. She begins to fly to safety, but then realizes that the other animals will not be able to flee unless they are warned. The parrot flies around, screeching the alarm, but it’s not enough. In desperation, she flies to the river and soaks her feathers in water. Then, returning to the fire, she sprinkles water on the flames – psst psst psst – but the droplets are futile to quench this blaze. Yet again and again the parrot returns to the river, soaks her feathers, and flies back to do her best. She is choking on smoke, and her feathers are becoming singed. She cannot keep this up much longer.
Up above, the gods are watching with some amusement. What a foolish bird! they laugh. She really thinks she can put out this raging fire? One of them comes down in the shape of an eagle and approaches the bird, saying, This is a futile errand, silly parrot! Fly away and save your life while you still can.
Still shaking water from her feathers in her valiant attempt to put out the fire, the parrot screeches at the god, I don’t need your advice, I NEED YOUR HELP!
Humbled, the eagle cries with remorse and pity; the god’s tears rain down onto the forest fire, putting it out at last.
What I love about this story is how easy it is for me to recognize the patronizing smugness of the god in myself, and the courage and determination of the parrot in my daughter. So often our kids throw themselves heart and soul into a project that has no meaning – or no meaning that we adults can see – or into a project that is doomed to failure. Our logical, adult brains see what lies ahead (the tide is coming in, the inflexible laws of physics are against us, the baby bird is too young to survive out of the nest etc.) I don’t think that will work, we say, as if offering permission to lay down a burden, and also trying to fend off the disappointment that will surely come. We lower the cone of protection, as if that will magically keep failure away. Somehow we overlook that by making perseverance a virtue only for the tasks that seem important to us, we risk making it unimportant for our kids. Emotional courage prepares us for disappointments, however, and helps us to acknowledge them as part of the full spectrum of emotions. Without the opportunity to experience disappointment and defeat, how can we hope to build our emotional courage muscles?
Besides, there is dignity in defeat if you have given your best. If you know that you have done everything in your power, then although there is sure to be disappointment or even grief, there can be no regret. There is a line in the movie, “The Last of the Mohicans,” that I have never forgotten (and it might be in the book, too, but I never could get through it). When the British finally surrender their fort after a brutal and lengthy siege, the French general says to Colonel Munro, “You have done all that is required for the honor of your prince.”
“All that is required,” and “everything in our power” is what courage allows us to try. Sometimes “everything” includes calling for help. Our own emotional courage is put to the test when we are willing to answer that call and fight the incoming tide arm in arm with our child, knowing that we will lose.
]]>This is the first in the “Six Types of Courage” that we will explore in-depth. We hope you’ve already had the chance to read over our page called “The Six Types of Courage” for a brief overview of our definitions. The examples we give for each type of courage may apply to your children and/or to you —please keep in mind, when you are reading this post, that some of these examples may involve taking “baby steps” on your way to physical courage! Every step towards courage is worthwhile and important.
“If you worried about falling off the bike you’d never get on.” Lance Armstrong
“A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway.” John Wayne
Physical courage is the type most people think of first, the one that allows us to risk discomfort, injury, pain or even death—running into burning buildings as a firefighter, facing an enemy on the battlefield, undergoing chemotherapy, climbing a mountain, protecting a child from a dangerous animal. We are right to be wary of pain: pain tells us where our boundaries and limits are. However, sometimes there are things more important than pain, and our physical fear becomes a border to be crossed. Physical fear is often blown entirely out of proportion: pain is often greater in anticipation than in fact, and that dread can become an insurmountable barrier. Physical courage also involves recognizing that your body is how you participate in the world; keeping it healthy, strong, and resilient prepares you for all kinds of challenges, not just physical ones.
This inspiring video from TED.com gives us a great example of a woman confronting seemingly insurmountable barriers through physical courage. It’s about seventeen minutes long; if you don’t have time now, please watch it later. It’s well worth it. Teaser: she rowed solo across the Atlantic Ocean!
Posts related to physical courage: The Journey Our Kids Are On, Two Parables from Rumi, Go Climb a Tree, 5-Minute Courage Workout on Navigating the Neighborhood, 5-Minute Courage Workout on Playing with Fire, First Steps on the Path, Mental Pathways of Courage, Let’s Talk Dirty, 5-Minute Courage Workout: Talking Dirty, Dancing Through the Pain, Part 1, Dancing Through the Pain, Part II, Perseverance: The Courage of a Spider, The Way We Hold Our Babes, Fenrir; Big, Bad Wolf, Beowulf: A Hero’s Tale Retold, Quitters, Campers, and Climbers: Which One are You?, The Black Belt Wall, Running Plan B
What are your ideas about physical courage, your parenting tips to promote it with kids, or your favorite physical courage story (fiction or non-fiction)? We’d love to hear from you!
Here’s more on the types of courage:
What is Social Courage?
What is Emotional Courage?
What is Moral Courage?
What is Intellectual Courage?
What is Spiritual Courage?
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]]>Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.~Mary Anne Radmacher
I’ve defined the word courage with a dictionary, and with the help of my kids, so now I ask myself: “What does courage mean to me?” “Do I have courage?” “When have I been courageous in my life?”
I read Jennifer’s retelling of The Lion’s Whiskers, and reflect on the times when I’ve had to approach my own inner and outer lions to gain the necessary whiskers, or qualities, to develop the love and respect for myself, my children, my husband, and all who cross my path. Whiskers I cling to for balance and guidance, qualities that help me to be brave during times of fear, pain, or uncertainty. I think of the times I’ve succeeded, and the times I’ve failed, in attaining the kind of intellectual, social, physical, spiritual, emotional and moral strength necessary to be deemed “courageous”.
Even more poignantly, I reflect on the times when I am the healer coaching my children, or my clients, to approach that which they fear; and sadly, the times when I am the lion my children must approach cautiously when I am impatient, judgmental, or demanding. Each time I can be relied upon to be consistent and caring with my children, I watch as their posture straightens with the kind of confidence that an unconditionally loving relationship provides. The kind of self-confidence necessary to approach life with courage.
Even more poignantly, I reflect on the times when I am the healer coaching my children, or my clients, to approach that which they fear; and sadly, the times when I am the lion my children must approach cautiously when I am impatient, judgmental, or demanding. Each time I can be relied upon to be consistent and caring with my children, I watch as their posture straightens with the kind of confidence that an unconditionally loving relationship provides. The kind of self-confidence necessary to approach life with courage.
Courage, in my understanding and experience, is the essence of perseverance when faced with difficulty. Courage, for me, requires the intellectual capacity to fight through my fear; and the moral basis to care about myself, my friends and family, my community, and the world-at-large enough to do the right thing. Most of all, I gain strength, and thus the resilience and courage to act, from identifying meaningful purpose in my life.
On a cold night, cuddled under layers of dogs and blankets, I ask my husband “Would you describe me as a courageous person? Do you think I’ve done things in my life that are examples of possessing courage? Do you think I have anything worthwhile to offer on the subject?” “Yes, yes, and yes”, he utters in a sleepy voice. He is exceptionally loving and reassuring, my husband—if slightly sleep-deprived due to my midnight musings. He reminds me of the times I’ve been courageous, if not very practical. Like the time I ran to a burning farm house to help rescue a Nepalese family and all their belongings. In an instant, I dropped my pack on the trekking trail to run to their rescue. A pack filled with most of my worldly possessions, including all my cash and passport. My husband, on the other hand, stayed back. Mindfully assessing the risks, noticing all the other neighbors already arriving with water buckets, deeming the situation under control; he chose to pick up my backpack and approach the scene more cautiously. I guess you would say I responded altruistically. Without care for myself or my belongings, I placed the welfare of others above my own. Someone else might say I acted selfishly, perhaps in the interest of ‘looking good’. Others may say I was foolhardy in my impulsiveness and took an unnecessary risk without considering other options. Still others may question whether courage was evident if I am unable to show evidence of fear, threat, and danger. It begs the question: who gets to decide what and who is courageous?
Unlike my husband, I barely remember the incident. It’s a common phenomenon for people who’ve been courageous to have little or no recollection of the events leading up to the moment they made their move—particularly when altruism is at play. Upon reflection, when people who’ve displayed courage are asked “How did you do it?” I am amazed how often friends, family, or clients I’ve worked with as a mental health or child/family therapist over the course of 22 years, respond “I don’t know. I didn’t have a choice. I just did it.” My job sometimes is to highlight how courageous their actions actually were, to help deconstruct the choices they make in their lives that will hopefully result in increased confidence and a sense of their ability to be active agents in the creation of their future lives. Our role as a parent is to do the same with our children.
The truth is more likely that for most adults, years of rehearsed mental pathways create habitual grooves in our brains’ topography culminating in relatively unconscious choices in favor of survival, compassion, and altruism. Without learning healthy attachment with another human being in childhood—therefore learning to care about oneself, others, and our surroundings—another more destructive pathway (engaging similar centers of the brain) can just as likely result in more sinister choices aligned with aggression and fear.
The gap between thought and action, those precious few seconds (or maybe even as many as 90 seconds) that culminate in a shift from the mental to the material—biochemistry to action—can motivate or paralyze us.
According to Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroscientist catapulted through paralysis to enlightenment as a result of a stroke in her left hemisphere, our limbic system (in charge of our emotional programming) is triggered to respond, in less than 90 seconds, either positively (in favor of compassion, altruism, and love) or negatively (in favor of aggression and fear). Within those 90 seconds we can transform our reaction from positive to negative or negative to positive.
It is important to note that our responses are to actual physical stimuli, or rather our mental perceptions of those stimuli, and can even be in response to an unconscious thought. She advises us all, in her memoir My Stroke of Insight (2008), to be conscious that we do, in fact, have a choice about how we respond to the events of our lives. The commonly dispensed advice to take 5 deep breaths or count to 10—to help us not lose our cool—may in fact make all the difference to our happiness in life. Alternatively, in moments when we are faced with a situation to save our own or another’s life, hopefully we’ve rehearsed enough loving to care to not only respond, but react quickly.
Ultimately, it is a choice to be courageous—consciously or unconsciously rehearsed—a choice that makes all the difference not only in terms of our survival, but also our happiness. A choice as simple and as complex as being understanding and compassionate, instead of losing it, when your child is sick and drops her new iPod into a bowl of chicken noodle soup (one of my more recent failures). It was only after taking a few deep breaths whilst hugging my daughter (to reassure her that she is still lovable even when she makes mistakes–as am I), and getting all the information, that we managed to fix her iPod with a blow dryer. A calm mind is, it turns out, the necessary condition for creative problem solving.
Dr. Lisa’s Parenting Tip:
Ask yourself, “When have I been courageous in my life?” Ask your child, “Can you recall a time when you needed courage?” Share your courage stories on our blog…we’d love to hear your stories in our comments section or send us your stories to us by clicking here!
The next time you feel like you’re going to lose your cool as a parent, take a mini time-out for yourself. Breathe a few deep breaths. Count to 10, or 90! Modelling this kind of self-control when under pressure, will help your child not only trust you more; but also to learn to be the ruler of his/her emotional reactions—instead of being ruled by them.