This essay may be
all over the map, as my travels have brought me all over the map.
Currently, I am in Leysin, Switzerland, which is located about two hours
away from Geneva. It's been a relaxing time so far. I had a performance
yesterday for a group composed mostly of American students, though
other students, from other countries, are represented as well. However,
in order to be a part of this group (JLU), the students must have
command of the spoken English language. This is a very privileged group
of teens. This group is by invitation only. In order to qualify, all of
these teens' parents have to own their own business of at least 50
employees, and the company has to gross at least 10 million/year.
Not much affects these kids. They have seen a lot of what the world has to offer, and sadly, many of them, (not all, by any means), are already apathetic; passion is perhaps the only country to which they have yet to travel. That being stated, my show was able to reach them in ways they haven't been touched, and despite their normal modality of disinterest, I loved speaking to this group. Like I said to them last night: "I am not worried about your futures. They are set for success. Many of you will run this world. What I am concerned about is that you will live extraordinarily ordinary, successful lives. You will do everything that has been done, but nothing more. You will contribute to the problem, do everything your parents have done, but you will risk little to change lives." This sparked their interest. No one ever speaks to them with this raw honesty.
I went on to say: "Your parents lie to you. They tell you that you should not complain; you have everything. They give you the proper schooling, camps, experiences, toys, cars, and connections. They tell you that you are not like those poor unfortunate souls who have nothing, who live in a rubble, who see violence all the time. They tell you that you have no problems. But is this true?" Then I zap them. I ask them which story carries more onus: 1. The child who grows up in a poor, cruel environment, but knows that life can get better, if only they are able to survive the moment and make a way out. They have seen that there are others in the world that are successful, and seemingly happy. Or 2. The child that is given "everything". They know that they are the envy of the world. They can have anything they desire; they look to no one else as a model of success. They have that success. And yet, they feel empty, because if this is all there is, and yet they do not feel fulfilled, then what good is life?
The tears these kids cried were as real as any tears that kids cry. Our pain cannot be compared to each other. We live with what we have been given. And these teens, like all teens, like all of us, know pain. It is universal.
Today, as I have done before, I've been thinking about legacy, and what I want to pass on to my children. I must say, I am in opposition to 99% of parents I hear. Many of them mumble the same sentiments: I want my child(ren)'s life/lives to be better than mine. Is this not what parents state? Well, allow me to be clear: I do NOT want any of my children to be more successful (financially) than I am. I do not want them to suffer, but I do want them to experience pain. I want them to have enough and see enough, but to never have a life that is set for them. I want them to struggle...in guided amounts. Not in the guided amounts that parents set for their children, so that the children will "learn the lesson", but in those guided amounts offered by life itself.
If my children's lives are better, then let it be better because they have constructed it for themselves, no trust funds or given wealth that is not earned. I understand why my parents wanted my siblings' lives and mine to be better than their struggle. I get that. My mother dropped out of school when she was 13. She was constantly sick; she was a maid, at one point. My father struggled, too; he grew up poor and worked hard to make a modicum of success in this country. At the start, my parents and family were welfare recipients. I get why my parents wanted a better life for their children. I get why parents in general want their children to have a better life. It just doesn't work for my thinking.
If there are things that I want for my children that are better than what I had, it would be their ability to trust themselves earlier than I did. I want them to rely on all they bring to the table, never settling for one choice of a career, but always evolving and using their gifts to fit whatever market they choose.
I am happy that my parents never gave me a financial start or a home. They did their best, and because of their lack of knowledge about certain factors, I've had to figure it out on my own. Painfully, at times. But I am more for this. I am more because of no bail out or privilege. I think that the ones with some sense of entitlement have a harder role to travel, spiritually. Caring for true needs does not come easy for them. Compassion and empathy does not come easy for most people, in my experience; people are quicker to cast judgment than to embrace. I have seen exceptions to this, of course, but they are infrequent.
As an aside, I think judgment comes when one is either dissatisfied with themselves or believe that they are above all human err. A few years ago, I had two boys, from two different relationships. It was a painful part of my life, perhaps the closest I've been to suicidal in more than 15 years. My family and some of my friends were there for me, but I would say that the majority of friends had trouble grasping "how I could let this happen", or how could I not seen the signs concerning the psychological issues of one of the mothers. And as much as this added stress and self-shame, I took comfort in one comment that was made by my dear friend, Lisa Carrillo. When I told her the news about my situation, there was no judgment, only compassion and wonder. She blew me away. Her immediate response was: "Oh, Michael, how wonderful that your spirit is going to be in two other souls in this world." She, not my daughter, not anything else during that period, saved my life. That openness, that non-judgment is a rare treasure to find in a friend.
I want my children to be open-minded. I know that my daughter is already more evolved than I was at her age. For one thing, she has me for a father. I am the grey; I rarely see in black and white, even for some of the toughest issues. Secondly, my daughter has a mother who is gay; she will not be raised with the same fear and ignorance that others have/had to work through, including myself. I can only hope that all my children will have more evolution than I did.
And I will continue to expose my children to many culture and countries, because I never want them to fail to see people as SAME. When I travel and come back to my country, I realize that most people love talking about how great the people are in such and such other countries. They idealize "those simple people who just enjoy life." Personally, I find great people in every country, including my own. I don't share this idealization, just because I've spent a few days in a foreign land. When you are a tourist you typically no nothing about the true country. I've learned that in every country or state I've been, I've met the following types of people: the intriguing, the annoying, the rude, the lovely, and the disinterested. I have no fantasy about somewhere else being greater than where I am. I can find faults and joys in every place. I am at home where I am at home. I hope that these personal truths are what I will pass on to my children.
Not much affects these kids. They have seen a lot of what the world has to offer, and sadly, many of them, (not all, by any means), are already apathetic; passion is perhaps the only country to which they have yet to travel. That being stated, my show was able to reach them in ways they haven't been touched, and despite their normal modality of disinterest, I loved speaking to this group. Like I said to them last night: "I am not worried about your futures. They are set for success. Many of you will run this world. What I am concerned about is that you will live extraordinarily ordinary, successful lives. You will do everything that has been done, but nothing more. You will contribute to the problem, do everything your parents have done, but you will risk little to change lives." This sparked their interest. No one ever speaks to them with this raw honesty.
I went on to say: "Your parents lie to you. They tell you that you should not complain; you have everything. They give you the proper schooling, camps, experiences, toys, cars, and connections. They tell you that you are not like those poor unfortunate souls who have nothing, who live in a rubble, who see violence all the time. They tell you that you have no problems. But is this true?" Then I zap them. I ask them which story carries more onus: 1. The child who grows up in a poor, cruel environment, but knows that life can get better, if only they are able to survive the moment and make a way out. They have seen that there are others in the world that are successful, and seemingly happy. Or 2. The child that is given "everything". They know that they are the envy of the world. They can have anything they desire; they look to no one else as a model of success. They have that success. And yet, they feel empty, because if this is all there is, and yet they do not feel fulfilled, then what good is life?
The tears these kids cried were as real as any tears that kids cry. Our pain cannot be compared to each other. We live with what we have been given. And these teens, like all teens, like all of us, know pain. It is universal.
Today, as I have done before, I've been thinking about legacy, and what I want to pass on to my children. I must say, I am in opposition to 99% of parents I hear. Many of them mumble the same sentiments: I want my child(ren)'s life/lives to be better than mine. Is this not what parents state? Well, allow me to be clear: I do NOT want any of my children to be more successful (financially) than I am. I do not want them to suffer, but I do want them to experience pain. I want them to have enough and see enough, but to never have a life that is set for them. I want them to struggle...in guided amounts. Not in the guided amounts that parents set for their children, so that the children will "learn the lesson", but in those guided amounts offered by life itself.
If my children's lives are better, then let it be better because they have constructed it for themselves, no trust funds or given wealth that is not earned. I understand why my parents wanted my siblings' lives and mine to be better than their struggle. I get that. My mother dropped out of school when she was 13. She was constantly sick; she was a maid, at one point. My father struggled, too; he grew up poor and worked hard to make a modicum of success in this country. At the start, my parents and family were welfare recipients. I get why my parents wanted a better life for their children. I get why parents in general want their children to have a better life. It just doesn't work for my thinking.
If there are things that I want for my children that are better than what I had, it would be their ability to trust themselves earlier than I did. I want them to rely on all they bring to the table, never settling for one choice of a career, but always evolving and using their gifts to fit whatever market they choose.
I am happy that my parents never gave me a financial start or a home. They did their best, and because of their lack of knowledge about certain factors, I've had to figure it out on my own. Painfully, at times. But I am more for this. I am more because of no bail out or privilege. I think that the ones with some sense of entitlement have a harder role to travel, spiritually. Caring for true needs does not come easy for them. Compassion and empathy does not come easy for most people, in my experience; people are quicker to cast judgment than to embrace. I have seen exceptions to this, of course, but they are infrequent.
As an aside, I think judgment comes when one is either dissatisfied with themselves or believe that they are above all human err. A few years ago, I had two boys, from two different relationships. It was a painful part of my life, perhaps the closest I've been to suicidal in more than 15 years. My family and some of my friends were there for me, but I would say that the majority of friends had trouble grasping "how I could let this happen", or how could I not seen the signs concerning the psychological issues of one of the mothers. And as much as this added stress and self-shame, I took comfort in one comment that was made by my dear friend, Lisa Carrillo. When I told her the news about my situation, there was no judgment, only compassion and wonder. She blew me away. Her immediate response was: "Oh, Michael, how wonderful that your spirit is going to be in two other souls in this world." She, not my daughter, not anything else during that period, saved my life. That openness, that non-judgment is a rare treasure to find in a friend.
I want my children to be open-minded. I know that my daughter is already more evolved than I was at her age. For one thing, she has me for a father. I am the grey; I rarely see in black and white, even for some of the toughest issues. Secondly, my daughter has a mother who is gay; she will not be raised with the same fear and ignorance that others have/had to work through, including myself. I can only hope that all my children will have more evolution than I did.
And I will continue to expose my children to many culture and countries, because I never want them to fail to see people as SAME. When I travel and come back to my country, I realize that most people love talking about how great the people are in such and such other countries. They idealize "those simple people who just enjoy life." Personally, I find great people in every country, including my own. I don't share this idealization, just because I've spent a few days in a foreign land. When you are a tourist you typically no nothing about the true country. I've learned that in every country or state I've been, I've met the following types of people: the intriguing, the annoying, the rude, the lovely, and the disinterested. I have no fantasy about somewhere else being greater than where I am. I can find faults and joys in every place. I am at home where I am at home. I hope that these personal truths are what I will pass on to my children.
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