“If a child is to keep alive his inborn sense of wonder without any such gift from the fairies, he needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering with him the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in.” Rachel Carson
I wonder just how many times I’ve asked the question. Not that it is a bad thing—I think most of us have inquired. And more than likely, we were asked this age-old inquiry when we were children.
Perhaps you have heard it or said it a time or two …
What do you want to be when you grown up?
But there’s a good chance I won’t be asking that question anymore. I’ve decided there is something even more valuable going on now in a child’s life that deserves reflection. You see, I gained a new perspective a few weeks ago, and it just happens to be at the heart of living “Hands Free.”
When I read these life-changing words, I knew immediately this innovative viewpoint was a gift. Little did I know it would change the way I look at my children … the way I talk to them … the way I listen to them. And I can think of no one I’d rather share it with than you, my faithful companions on this “Hands Free” journey.
“When we adults think of children, there is a simple truth which we ignore: childhood is not preparation for life, childhood is life. A child isn’t getting ready to live – a child is living. The child is constantly confronted with the nagging question, ‘What are you going to be?’ Courageous would be the youngster who, looking the adult squarely in the face, would say, ‘I’m not going to be anything; I already am.’ We adults would be shocked by such an insolent remark for we have forgotten, if indeed we ever knew, that a child is an active participating and contributing member of society from the time he is born. Childhood isn’t a time when he is molded into a human who will then live life; he is a human who is living life. No child will miss the zest and joy of living unless these are denied him by adults who have convinced themselves that childhood is a period of preparation.
How much heartache we would save ourselves if we would recognize the child as a partner with adults in the process of living, rather than always viewing him as an apprentice. How much we would teach each other … adults with the experience and children with the freshness. How full both our lives could be. A little child may not lead us, but at least we ought to discuss the trip with him for, after all, life is his and her journey, too.” – Professor T. Ripaldi
For days, I was preoccupied by these words. They cycled through my mind like an old-fashioned film reel. I knew Professor Ripaldi’s perspective was important—critical even—but I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to apply his wisdom to my life.
Leave it to my children to show me.
My two daughters and I were crossing a rustic bridge—the same narrow bridge we cross virtually every day—when my youngest called out her usual command.
“Look at the view!”
I would estimate that day was at least the 100th time she has said those words since the bridge reopened one year ago after major repairs. But the way she said it that day, like every day, would cause you to believe she had never seen this particular sight. Her voice was etched in excitement as she pointed to the pristine lake, the glorious sunset, and wispy clouds.
As always, I glanced out the window per her request.
“Oh wow! It is beautiful,” I exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm. But I knew I wasn’t really seeing it—not the way she was seeing it. Because the truth is, I can’t possibly see what she sees—not from behind the wheel of a car. But on this particular day, I wanted to see what she sees; I needed to see what she sees.
As I searched for a place to pull over, I quickly spotted an old utility road. There was just enough room for me to park my vehicle at the gated entrance of the gravel path. I had not even put the car in park when confusion erupted from the backseat.
“Did we run out of gas? Did we hit a deer? “ inquired my worrisome first-born.
“Are we going fishing?” asked my optimistic second-born.
I simply said, “I want to look at the view.”
Surprisingly, the kids didn’t question what on earth possessed their mother to act on this unusual impulse. With a shrug of the shoulders, they opened the car doors and indicated they were game for Mom’s strange mission.
We slowly trudged through the wooded terrain so we could get to the water’s edge. Once there, the girls each raised a hand to shield their eyes from the rays of the setting sun. As my children surveyed the vast body of water in complete silence, that is when I saw it.
The View.
It was in deed remarkable. It was as if every glorious detail was emphasized in a way I had never quite seen before.
But I am not talking about the crystal-clear lake against a backdrop of brilliant orange.
I am talking about my children.
The setting sun, acting as a magnifying glass, revealed every miraculous ingredient of their very being. Their talents, fears, insights, quirks, insecurities, hopes, ambitions, and God-given gifts all beautifully exposed beneath nature’s warm light.
And the revelation that occurred to me in that moment nearly brought me to my knees.
She says she wants to be a teacher when she grows up.
But she already is.
the teacher
A teacher of sight words and letter formation to small kindergarteners who come to her summer school,
A teacher of compassion to a child in Africa named Pricilla who receives her thoughtful letters, pictures, and prayers …
A teacher of parking lot safety, friendship-bracelet creation, and underwater handstands to an adoring little sister …
She is not preparing to live … she is living.
She is not preparing to become … she already is.
She says she wants to be a musician when she grows up.
But she already is.
the musician
Playing music of joy by offering a smile that brightens her whole face and the hearts of those who receive it …
Playing music of serenity by taking her own sweet time despite the pressures to hurry through life …
Playing music of kindness by loving four-legged creatures, her baby nephews, and those who are left out.
She is not preparing to live … she is living.
She is not preparing to become … she already is.
In mere days of reading Ripaldi’s words, I have felt a slow release … a further letting go on this “Hands Free” journey. I need not know it all. I need not control or dictate. Instead, I am open to the wisdom and insights of my children in this amazing process called ‘living.’
As my oldest daughter writes her student council speech, I sit next to her but I refrain from making an outline, correcting misspellings, and providing my ideas. Instead I watch as she articulately describes the strengths she possesses that would make her a good class leader.
And I listen because she knows … she knows.
As my youngest child looks at me with tearful eyes awkwardly holding her new guitar and says, “I don’t think I am quite ready move up to guitar. I want to go back to playing ukulele.” I do not argue. Instead I retrieve her ukulele and watch her tears evaporate as she holds the familiar instrument up to her chest and strums the music of her heart.
And I listen. Because she knows … she knows.
As my daughters and their two friends request to travel with loud dance music in the early morning hours, I grant their request. I look in the rearview mirror and marvel at their joy—singing with wide smiles and laughing at each other’s silly dance moves.
And I listen. And I observe. And I even join in the chorus. Because they know. They know.
Our children know a little something about this process called ‘living’ … perhaps more than adults do at times.
Thank you Professor Ripaldi. I’ve decided to take your advice. I will be discussing the trip with my children—after all, life is her journey, too.
And in that act of discussing, observing, and absorbing, I might just be blessed with the opportunity to enrich my own life … to expand my own heart … to grasp more moments that matter.
To regard my children as partners in the process of living means more chances to stop and admire the view.
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Do you treat the children in your life as partners in the process of living? Were you treated this way as a child? What are your thoughts about this unique perspective of childhood? It is a gift to read your unique thoughts, experiences, and perspectives, friends of The Hands Free Revolution. Thank you for taking time to share.
And for those who’d rather not give up the question –”What do you want to be when you grow up?” — you might enjoy this article.
The Partners for Life by Hands Free Mama, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Breathtakingly beautiful~ thank you for the reminder of the truth that we are all creative, whole, and enough.
Laura
I like the idea of a full life. Maybe like, “When I was a child, I was an artist. I later became a…., but I think a part of me will always be painting. Then I became a…”
Not, “I painted as a child.”
Interesting perspective. What are you going to be RIGHT NOW, little one? I LOVE IT. Thanks for this post!
Much love, Lori
Thank you, Lori. I love your perspective. Who we ARE at certain times changes/evolves. And I find it interesting to think that at age 7 I was filling notebook after notebook with stories. As a child, I was a writer … even though I never called myself that. How empowering it would have been if someone looked into my 7 year old eyes and said, “Rachel, you are a writer.”
Hmmmm…I will remember your wisdom when speaking with children. Thank you, dear friend.
Beautiful. A perfect reminder!
These wonderful smaller people in our lives teach us oh so much!
Thank you. I really needed this.
Yes! Thank you for expressing these truths so beautifully!
A wonderfully fresh perspective! Thank you!
A beautiful well stated perspective of a child’s life and love of life. We all should respect and listen to a child’s small voice and learn from that voice of wisdom.
You’re very insightful and articulate and spot on!
I love this. As usual you brought tears to my eyes lol.
The other day I was at a cafe and trying to let my 3 bubs enjoy a very hard earned chocolate milkshake, while not stressing about getting into the supermarket before it closed and making it home before they all got hungry for dinner. My eldest needed to go to the toilet so I asked the lady behind the counter. She was terribly rude and unhelpful, announcing that she had just cleaned the bathroom and was closing now and I would have to go to the public toilets (quite a distance away). I was so cross as we left and I was muttering under my breath some not particularly nice things while I crankily pushed my three darlings in the trolley. My eldest touched my arm and made eye contact and said: ‘don’t worry about that grumpy lady mummy, she mustn’t have children, if you don’t think about her you won’t feel angry. Think about something nice and just don’t wory about it.’ I laughed and I told him he, at 4.5 is wiser than I am! He made my day.
Your story reminded me of this. Sorry for the very long share!
Thank you so much for sharing, Caroline! Your son just made my day, too! What a lovely piece of advice he gave you. I shall remember his words when I encounter “grumpy” people. What a beautiful way your son said to just “let it go.” Thank you!!!!
When my daughter was asked by a well meaning parent at the end of Pre K, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” She replied a confused and emphatic, “What I am now – an author and an artist!”
I know I don’t know your daughter, but I ADORE her!!!! This story is the highlight of my week. THANK YOU! Please give the author and artist my brightest regards and a big old high five!
I love your call for us to live in the moment with our children–it’s an intentional practice. Even as my children are just now launching, it’s a reminder to cherish the moments with them rather than always thinking of tomorrow. Your writing is a sweet breath of fresh air!
This is so beautiful…hopefully I will remember to live in the now as my son grows up…thank you for sharing you inspire me…
There is a book I read with my preschoolers every year called “the painter” by peter catalanotto. In it, a parent says something like “you are going to be an artist when you grow up.” The child replies”I allready am!” I always think of this when I talk to my children day to day in the classroom. They are artists, writers, scientists, and so much more as they go about their business of finding their own unique way in the world.
It seems as adults we don’t give ourselves the permission to live like we want to. There is always something more pressing. Your words give me permission to not only enjoy watching my 10 month old grow and learn, but also join in with him – and have a blast doing so
Never thought I’d be playing the “drums” with wooden spoons, pots, pans and tupperware – never thought I’d be playing hide and go seek and laugh harder than him – never thought I’d enjoy motherhood half as much as I do. Thank goodness for kids letting us see the world in a hopeful light. Thank goodness for you, giving us those little reminders to keep a look out for an amazing view.
My grandson recently asked me what I had wanted to be when I grew up. I looked him square in the eye and told him I would let him know when I finally grew up. He thought it was hilarious.
I never wanted my boys to do anything other than what made them happy, paid the bills, and took care of the family. One was a brick mason, although he had a Mensa membership. The other was a Marine, Cop, Bar owner, and shop hand. He has always held a job, and he has always been a good hand, but he is still trying to decide what he wants to be when he grows up. (He is 36.)
Life is about discovery, none of us stay the same. What I loved to do at 14, I wouldn’t care to do at 57. Same thing for our kids. Don’t lock them into a path, but let them meander from place to place as they search for the right path for them.
I always love reading your thoughts, Rachel, but this message was certainly “providence” after our discussion today in class. It is so true that most kids are often experiencing life more than many adults. We are focused on the calendars, clocks, and technology in our world, while our children are seeing the rainbows, smiles, and wonder in everything around them! I always say I learn more from my students every year than they could ever learn from me. Thank you for putting this all into perspective. I know why I love Kindergarten so much!
I love this, Rachel. I may be 25, but I often find myself thinking about how I’ll be happier, more successful or feel more fulfilled when I grow up. I really need to appreciate what is in front of me and let go of the “mores.”
So, so beautiful….you’re writing is incredibly moving. Thank you Rachel from the bottom of my heart… What you do is so necessary… It inspires people like me in the way I approach people and I hope to spread that around. Have you read Jean Liedloff’s ‘The Continuum Concept’? Powerful, life-changing book! Wishing you sunshine and all wonderful things from Australia! Sascha Xxx
* your
Another beautiful post to help us keep perspective in our busy lives.
I love this
I hear two themes in this post : 1. that kids are doing important work and living NOW, not in prep for the future. This is such an important point, and the foundation for much of my daily life with my kids, as well as why we have made the decisions we have around education. And 2. that we can work in partnership with our children, rather than as adversaries. This is my theme at the moment in my parenting : trying to find ways to say ‘yes’, trying to question my desire for control and rather work towards partnership. Every time I can do this, the benefits to us all are amazing, and on-flowing to other parts of our lives. Thank you for putting it so clearly, and giving me yet another reminder of why I am choosing the hard way of questioning everything, but finding powerful answers that enable my family to unfold into its best version of itself 
Wow. That’s a beautiful way to look at childhood – much more exciting, exploratory, and less rigid. I love the way you digested it too, and applied his writing to this moment with your daughter. I love seeing a child’s fresh perspective on something I’ve seen (or taken for granted seeing or knowing) for years. I learn something myself that I never thought of before when I watch them observe the simple things that make up our world. It’s always been the best part of teaching for me.
The older I get, the more I realize that we adults are simply on a path a little further down than the one a child is on. We haven’t finished it. We aren’t coaching them from the end like someone at the end a finish line, yelling, “Come on! You’re almost here! I’m done, but you’re not!,” because we haven’t finished running either. And pretending we have it all figured out just isn’t true. But that’s not a disadvantage – it’s a strength. We’re still becoming ourselves, and we’ll continue that. We’re never “done” no matter how old we get. Ultimately, the more we show kids we’re eager to learn and appreciate life right along with them, the more we can learn from each other – and that’s powerful.
Thank you so much for sharing from your heart. This brought tears to my eyes. This is one of the two blogs that I read, and it is changing the way I view motherhood and my children!
Once again, Rachel, incredibly inspiring… and always challenging.
Absolutely wonderful piece!!! You make me want to love my two beautiful daughters even more!!! I dance when they dance, I sing when they sing and we all laugh together a lot, but still not enough. Thank you for sharing
Brad, that is such a lovely sentiment:”I dance when they dance, I sing when they sing, and we all laugh together a lot, but still not enough.” I couldn’t agree more! What an inspiring thought to lead me into the weekend ahead. THANK YOU!
I like to think of myself as a guide in a foreign land. I’ve lived here longer, so I have more information to offer, but I am still discovering things about this place, and my son’s eyes offer me a fresh perspective.
Oh WOW! Fabulous perspective, Jen!!! Thank you for this. How I love seeing the world through my children’s eyes.
This is positively lovely writing. It soothes my soul and makes me eager for naptime to end so my children can open my eyes some more.
Hope you don’t mind that I posted it on my blog’s Facebook page!
Another wonderfully inspiring article, thank you! I also have to share- your commenters also help me reflect & digest.
Thank you, Tracy. I am so glad you mentioned that. I cherish the thoughts, perspectives, and encouraging words left by the wonderful readers of this blog. I feel incredibly blessed by this supportive community! Thank you for being here!
Yes, they are already teachers. I’m so glad you stopped to take in the view. We all need to do that more. : )
Thank you for these words. It’s so hard for us as we try and help our youngest with her transition issues to remain patient. Reading this brought tears to my eyes and reminded me that she doesn’t know it’s an “issue” she is just living in this world at this moment as she is. Thank you