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Some of you may have read my previous article, titled: Peace, Happiness & the Perils of Late-Stage Capitalism.”
In that piece, I addressed my pronounced sense of alienation from a culture that practically never sleeps, the pitfalls of hyper-productivity, a Newsweek article stating that around one-third of Americans are now using PTO hours to catch up on rest due to burnout, and the lifestyle I feel is more conducive to my own peace and happiness, which includes moments of pause, time spent in solitude to get away from all of the noise of society and other people, communion with the natural world, personal and philosophical reflection, creative self-expression, and the appreciation of simplicity in all it’s forms.
Four and a half years ago, life presented an opportunity for me to earn extra money on top of teaching English as a foreign language, and this time, I was the student, eager and ready to discover more about these same things I already cherished so much in this existence.
That is, I received an offer to become a part-time childcare worker.
As it turns out, working with young children and even toddlers is one of the most meaningful and even exciting jobs I have ever had to date—and I have had many!
Why is this, you may ask?
Because through spending time observing young children in conjunction with my spiritual growth, studies, and practices, I have come to recognize the unconditional wholeness and unadulterated joy in all of life.
Children, in contrast to many adults, are not overly concerned with image, social reputation, economic status, constant productivity, or time.
Unlike the average grown-up, they revel in the here and now, not staring at the clock and thinking about getting through whatever they are doing in order to rush off into the next moment. Instead, they relish in the playfulness of life, taking profound delight in their games, unbothered by their phones, the clock, or much of anything else.
In addition, the ego-mind of the average primary-school-aged child and toddler is not as cemented as that of an adult, making it easier to connect with them in a more genuine way. Not yet having a strong sense of a personal self, children’s hearts are genuinely more naturally open to life and all it has to offer because they have not yet erected solid defence mechanisms and facades that make them interface with life and other people in a manner that is phony or cynical.
Over the years, I have come to really appreciate these qualities about them, and to this day, actually consider them to be among my greatest teachers.
Teachers of what, you may ask?
Teachers of presence, purity, and the joys of simplicity and being.
While briefly studying the Gnostic gospels in Christianity, I ran across a brilliant quote by Christ himself. He said, “To enter the Kingdom, one must become like a child.”
Although some people could interpret that statement to mean that one must be faultless in order to get to a place called Heaven in the afterlife, I understand it quite differently.
In the context of everything else I have come to know about God or Source through my own spiritual awakening, observation, reflection, and through studying ancient texts and the perennial philosophy, I have come to interpret this statement as a testament to the abundance, the heaven, that is not a specific place but a state of mind that one can experience when they adopt a more pure, simple, and even buoyant approach to life—just like that of the average child.
To live in a state of inner peace and bliss, we must look to children to model how to become more present-moment-oriented, more appreciative of simplicity and being, and to open our hearts as opposed to adopting defences and resistance as coping mechanisms to shield us from the storms of life.
Why?
Because when we attempt to shield ourselves from life’s storms, we also inadvertently prevent ourselves from accessing our innate joy and love, which I’ve also learned through working with children is our natural state and the wind beneath our wings.
Over time, as I have become more receptive to the energies of the children I have had the privilege to work with, I have come to notice some positive changes within myself; changes that have, by default, significantly enhanced my personal growth and self-awareness.
Through having to spend time and interact with children on their level, I too have slowly but surely become more fully immersed in each moment, become more creative and imaginative, and more willing to open my heart.
In addition, I have also come to a clearer understanding of the difference between acting from a place of love and inspiration versus a place of perceived obligation and fear.
While I also used to almost constantly overthink and overanalyze, worry, and ruminate, I am now beginning to take life as it comes and stop anticipating the next moments—unless, of course, I have to be somewhere or do something important.
I also generally feel more loving and compassionate toward everyone and everything, because I see all beings and all things in their purest forms—and that even includes other adults.
I once read a quote by Ursula K. Le Guin. She framed her words like this:
“The creative adult is the child who survived.”
Now, when I look at many adults, I see what many people fail to: the remnants of innocence buried deeply within them, radiating from their eyes and their whole being like the sun peaking through the clouds in the grey backdrop that illumines decades of familial and cultural conditioning and defences.
I see the child within them that either consciously or subconsciously yearns for joy and happiness, that wants to open to life like a morning glory exposed to that first light at dawn, and to resurrect those half-buried desires and almost forgotten dreams just to feel that reservoir of love flowing through them.
Most of all, however, I recognize a primordial presence inside of them that lies deeply within us all.
Through working with young children, I have also learned that sometimes on the road to doing what we might call “bigger and better things,” we also stumble upon opportunities of various kinds that offer us more than a “dream job” title or a decent paycheck.
That is, we get opportunities to fuel and further our own personal growth and broaden our understanding of ourselves, each other, and life in general.
For this and this alone, I am ever so grateful for all of life’s teachers, both big and small.
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