…following on from yesterday’s post ‘Something to Think About’, which led to a comment from a Jackie Evancho fanpage – Wow! this girl is an amazing talent – and such a beautiful surprise – as she says elsewhere, great things come in small packages. Her passion for singing radiates, and her obvious delight in performing and having the oppportunity to enjoy what she loves really shines through.
It may be old hat for some people, but it’s the first time I have encountered her, and I just love what I see and hear, and the feeling she inspires.
How many would notice her, and stop in the Metro station to listen to her, I wonder? (Her actual performance starts at around 2.0)
A colleague sent me this today, which made me think about what we miss by rushing through life without pausing, noticing and appreciating things that in other circumstances and environments we would love and value.
In Washington , DC , at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.
About 4 minutes later:
The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.
At 6 minutes:
A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.
At 10 minutes:
A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent – without exception – forced their children to move on quickly.
At 45 minutes:
The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.
After 1 hour:
He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.
No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.
Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theatre in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.
Joshua Bell
This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities.
This experiment raised several questions:
*In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?
*If so, do we stop to appreciate it?
*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?
One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:
If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made . . .How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?
Brought me back to thinking about something I wrote last year – see here: Do You Value What’s Right Under Your Nose?
teenage expression
“When I was 18 my father was completely ignorant, but by the time I was 25,
it was amazing how much he’d learnt.”
Too True!
BONUS TIP 6:
Laugh. Find some common ground in humour, satire, irony – maybe through a TV programme or film. It may make you throw your hands up in horror, but ‘The Simpsons’ has some prize moments of sheer comic dis-functionality in which most of us can see a little something of ourselves, if we’re really honest. After all it’s been around for 20 years and now has its own stamp collection…..
happy, confident teens
But dads (and mums) be warned – telling bad ‘dad jokes‘ (and it seems that all dad jokes are bad jokes, even if they’re good…..) creates embarrassed looks, groans of ‘Ohhh Daaad’, rolling eyes and shrugged shoulders – you have to decide if you want to experience that. On the other hand, if you don’t do generic ‘dad jokes’, maybe your teen will miss out on being able to share horror stories with their mates…..And sharing the experience is part of growing up.
As parents, that’s what we’re there for – silent witness, loud supporter, soft shoulder or sharp wit – you’ll need all of that and more along the way. Is it worth it? Completely - it’s one of life’s richest treasures.
For more resources and articles on personal growth and development, leadership, education, creativity and change visit www.resourcemagazine.co.uk
A friend, Wealth Coach Nicola Cairncross, posted on Twitter yesterday that she wanted to talk to someone about the experience of living with and bringing up young teens, which prompted me to revisit this short article I wrote almost five years ago. It seems to be a time when this aspect of my work with children and young people is in the spotlight, I was interviewed as an expert for a book on coaching the other week – is somebody trying to tell me something?
Little Treasures?
In my role as a coach, mentor and counsellor I work mainly with young people, many of whom come to me labelled with behavioural, learning and/or emotional difficulties. That means I’m quite accustomed to witnessing sulky, aggressive and unhappy children, and it can take a fair amount of time, compassion and humour to unwind and relax and begin to make progress together.
So when my own 16 year old son informed me with some passion the other week that I “have no idea how hard it is to be a child growing up these days” it took me by surprise and prompted me to reflect carefully on my family, my work and my self.
Looking Inside
He’s usually thought of as the wise one in his group, he appears to cope with whatever life presents to him, and he does fine at school. Yet even he is saying that coping is hard.
And it’s in such moments that we can, as parents, gain great insights into just what the challenges of adolescence are these days that might make it harder than it was for us. However, it’s tricky, because any questioning or request for explanation can lead to stonewalling silence – and so how can we mine for those precious nuggets that help us respond appropriately to our little treasures and not dam up the flow before it’s even started? (Apologies for the mixed metaphor…)
Because if it’s hard work being a child these days, it’s probably even harder being a parent who cares, who wants to be supportive yet finds that they are sidelined and that attempts at dialogue are blocked.
You’d think with my experience and skills with other people’s little treasures, it would be a breeze, but dealing with your own kids isn’t the same as being the outside help. After all, you can’t send them home after an hour or so – they are at home. You don’t have the benefit of an outside perspective. Well, that was what I thought until I began to reflect on the limitations I was imposing by holding those beliefs.
I wondered: if I could change my beliefs about it being hard to work with my son, could he shift his beliefs that it’s hard to be an adolescent growing up today?
And this is what happened.
I worked out a way of inviting my son to use a simple strategy of stepping back and stepping out.
I explained to him that I had been experiencing a paradox of finding it hard to be a parent. Feeling uncomfortable offering to help him because he’s my son, and even more uncomfortable not helping him – also because he’s my son, and especially as I have such a wide range of skills that could benefit him. So I went back in time to occasions when it would have seemed impossible and neglectful not to pass on skills and knowledge to him.
Like, what if I’d never talked to him so he could learn from me?
Or taught him to feed and dress himself?
Or helped him to read?
Or helped him to learn to ride his bike?
How weird would that have been?
And in the future, when he learns to drive (Oh, Yes! This Year! as he gleefully reminded me) he’ll accept that know-how from his dad and me.
We ended up laughing at the craziest imaginary scenarios of me being reluctant to be a parent to him, because I knew more than he did.
This opened up a really useful dialogue for us about eking out degrees of responsibility as children approach adulthood, but still being there. And on we went to his scenarios…
He stepped back and found times when it had been enormous fun to be growing up and developing, learning and exploring his expanding world, and rediscovered a sense of joy. He noticed that there was usually someone else involved with passing on skills and knowledge, but that when he was competent he went off and did his own thing. He discovered that he had lots of resources from the past which he could bring forward into the present, and would transfer to the future.
And he recognised that accepting help and support were a way of getting stronger and growing more resourceful – real, lasting treasures to carry forward to a life where it may just be a little easier to be growing up, in that limbo where you’re neither child nor adult. And as for me, I’ve found a more comfortable and fulfilling place in his world where I can support him by balancing the roles of adult and parent – still keeping mum, but now able to speak up as well!!
© Christine Miller 2004
For more articles and features on personal growth and development, check out www.resourcemagazine.co.uk, the magazine dedicated to human potential.
His Holiness The Dalai Lama - The Embodiment of Compassion
Listening to the Dalai Lama sharing His experiences and thoughts, one of the aspects which most impressed me was the amount of laughter – both from himself and from His audience. There is warm heartedness, humility and a lightness of spirit which is very apparent in His way of speaking, and His words are aimed directly at the hearts of His listeners. His message of compassion and loving kindness is based on common sense and practical living, and he is clear in asserting His belief that:
“The purpose of life is for happiness, to survive happily”
One of His central teachings about the development of compassion is based on the importance of childhood influences, particularly the effects of parenting. He reflects on His own childhood, and says he believes that mothers are the starting point of loving kindness. He describes His own mother’s simplicity, an uneducated village woman from a farming background, and immensely warm hearted. Contrasting her love and gentleness with the more disciplinarian approach of His father, he concludes that had he spent more time in His early years with His father he would probably not have been the same person.
“I believe that my altruistic mind and my compassion – the very seeds of that mind I got from my birth and the next few months and years with my mother – that was the real starting point to raise my model of loving kindness.”
He goes on to say to parents:
“What I say is this – give maximum affection to your children. That is very essential to bring us a happier humanity. The main hope for humanity relies on our future generations. So families with children have a special role – to give maximum affection to your children.
And parents – particularly mothers – spend more time with your children
