We sat sat down and had dinner the other night. Oldest child asked two youngest children what they thought the world would be like when they were grownups.
Half hour later I hadn’t said a word and these three children; 8, 10 and 13 years old had faced the shit storm currently called western society and dreamed up a new, alternative future for themselves.
All I could think was ‘I need to get out of their way and let their dreams manifest’. I think Nelson Mandela said it best:
Make your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.
I didn’t give birth to children.
I gave birth to fierce, powerful destruction.
I gave birth to wild, limitless creation.
These creatures are going to smash the mountain of our current, failing way of living into infinite grains of sand, like the roaring ocean mother.
They will hammer and grind it until it sparkles anew and is cleansed into a thing of beauty.
Then barefoot, free and full of love they will sift through it, find the shells and coral and tiny fossil treasures worth saving.
These treasures will become the core of their imagination, and with them they will create a new world for themselves, better than anything you or I can foresee.
That is what I gave birth to.
My children, I see you.