July: On Family

July 21

The important thing here, I think—and yes, it’s complicated (but what isn’t in this thing we call life?)—is that we must teach our children, the next generation, that actions have consequences. Great, we can all get on board with that. We don’t want the world falling into further chaos. But more than that, while imparting this timeless knowledge, we must remember two things:

1. Don’t just say it. Teach them through your actions. And your thought process. Think out loud with them when making decisions. Show them how to assess pros and cons. Teach them how to anticipate how their actions will not only impact them positively or negatively, but also others.

2. This isn’t a zero-sum game. We don’t want them to choose the “right” thing just because they might get caught and punished for choosing the “wrong” thing. We want them to weave their own moral fabric, to draw their own map in life that leads them to the treasure of virtuous action. We want them to choose the right thing because that’s the right thing to do.

We all know someone who believes their actions don’t have consequences—or who doesn’t give a shit about the ripple effect of their decisions as long as they’re still the ones benefitting. Too many of those people in the world. Too many in power. Let’s teach the young to slow down, think carefully, and consider their next move while considering others.

• Reflection title: Natural Consequences
• Creative inspiration: Eastin DeVerna, Lux: From the Kingdom of Darkness
• Reflection question: Do I consider the consequences of my own actions? What’s my thought process, and how am I teaching the next generation how to act?

July: On Family

July 20

As I did my daily check this morning with my coffee (Gardener’s Handbook, Rule #3: A gardener must always inspect their plants in the morning with coffee, even at the risk of midges diving in for a sip), I couldn’t quite believe the lettuce had grown so quickly. Maybe it’s the hot North Carolina summers. Maybe it was a good batch of soil from Brawley Seed Co. & Garden Center. Or maybe it’s just that Time has a way of deceiving us—that it brings us slow moments daily while working, cooking, or sitting in traffic, but then it bundles those moments like bales of straw into days, week, months, and years that will eventually dry out and turn gray and brown—and before we know it, the lettuce will have grown and been eaten, children will no longer have time for stories at night or watercolors in the morning, parents and partners will grow slow and old, and grandparents will bid their final farewell.

So it’s time to follow Rule #1: Slow down. Watch the seeds sprout and grow and notice it all, because before you know it, it’ll be harvest time.

• Reflection title: A Gardener’s Handbook, Coming Soon
• Creative inspiration: David Von Drehle, The Book of Charlie
• Reflection question: Am I slowing down and enjoying the quiet, everyday moments with my family? Where am I going too fast, and what am I missing?

July: On Family

July 19

As a parent now—living in what I think is safe to say a beautiful, yet crazy world—I’m more conscious than ever of the things I say, and more than that, my actions. I’m not sure truer words have ever been spoken: Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them. I’ll tell my daughter she should exercise, that it’s good for her—No thanks, I’d rather play Barbies. But the next day, she’ll tie a headband around her head and follow me into the workout space in the basement and spend half an hour in there with me swinging her five-pound kettlebell around. You should read, I’ll tell her—it makes you smart. It’s how you learn more about the world and other people—No thanks, I’d rather craft. An hour later, I’m reading a book (if godwilling I get 20 minutes to sit), and she’s right next to me flipping through Falling Up by Shel Silverstein. I’m fortunate to be able to work from home. I imagine when she comes into my office she sees the screen full of words and the back of my head, wondering what I’m doing all day just typing away. I’m writing, I say. It’s what I went to school for, now I’m able to do it for work. I write stories. And then she drags in her foam cushions, grabs a pen and notebook and sets it all up as her “desk” and begins writing stories of her own. Be kind to nature, I’ll say—they’re living creatures too, with feelings—Dad, it’s just a bug. But as we’re in the pool and a lost butterfly falls in and I run to grab the skimmer, she beats me to it, rescuing the little thing and placing it in the zinnias for shade and food.

Kids . . . they’re always watching. They’re always imitating. So you’d better make sure your actions are worth emulating.

• Reflection title: Do As I Say, Do As I Do
• Creative inspiration: James Baldwin, Nobody Knows My Name: More Notes of a Native Son
• Reflection question: Am I leading a good example for those younger than me with my actions, not just my words? Whose actions—those of someone older than I am—do I look to imitate?