I have always dreamed of having a big piece of property full of fruit trees, gardens, and open spaces. A place where my children and their imaginations could run free. Perhaps a part of this is the small taste that I had of this as a child on Lasqueti Island where for a brief time we spent our days on a 25 acre piece of wild land that was ours to explore.
Parenting for me has been a journey of self discovery. Never have I questioned myself so much or wanted to be more of a better person than since my son was born. He has taught me a great deal about life and about how truly selfless and selfish I can often be.
I was originally going to write this post about how my husband and I are such great models of slow parenting. We have both dedicated time away from work to be with him, I nursed him for 2 1/2 years (a major badge of pride and an unfortunate fate for my breasts), we make a lot of our food from scratch with organic local ingredients etc., and blah blah blah. You would be so proud. Or, even likelier, sick from all the self congratulation.
Instead, I’d like to tell a story about how my little boy has taught me the greatest wisdom I have learned in all my life. All the things I think I have given him are actually lessons he has taught me.
How to live sustainably is often framed as an exercise in subtraction. We are admonished to reduce here, lower there, and do with less. I have long struggled with this negative approach. It is based on a language and culture of sacrifice and depends on the ongoing goodwill and self discipline of the individual. It is not particularly motivating to always be taking things away. Also, I have read that we each only have so much willpower each day. Each time we say “no” to something the next no gets that much harder.
A similar approach is used to encourage people to eat healthy diets. Take away the fat, take away the carbs, take away the sugar…minus, minus, minus. What happens when you are not allowed to eat potato chips? Do you think about them constantly? Do you crave them more intensely than you ever would if you were allowed to have them? I do.