Transcriber: Mohand Habchi
Reviewer: Ariana Bleau Lugo As a clinical psychologist it is my privilege to help people
explore their inner worlds, their psychological terrain. Hour after hour,
I hear thoughts, emotions, feelings. This is my data. This data helps me
to better understand what is it that emotionally
paralyzes us. How is it that we may thrive
at this thing called life? In voices that are awash with need
and ablaze with yearning, my clients invite me into their history. They tell me stories of love, loss,
hidden fears and deepest desires. And let me tell you, inevitably
these stories turn to childhood. They speak of a common theme,
a similar rhythm. They speak of a hunger
that only a parent can appease, of a thirst
that only a parent can quench. The other day, this tall strapping man
in his mid forties, he came to explore his particularly difficult
relationship with his father. Yes, we grapple with problems
of our childhood long into adulthood. And he said to me,
in a voice that turned plaintive, that of an eight-year-old, he said, "Will I ever meet
my father's expectations? Will he ever accept
the man I've become today? Or will I always be a no-good loser?" He was seeking, searching,
yearning for an approval that may never come. And what about the woman
in her thirties, so beautiful, talented, successful, she screamed,
"What is wrong with me? Why am I this messed up? You tell me it's because
my father overdosed when I was 4, but when will this pain fade?" And the woman
who picks on her skin constantly, a lifetime habit, you see. She said, "These," pointing
to the rageful scars on her body, "These began the day
after my mom said I was the reason daddy left us." "Help me!", each one of them
silently shouts at me, "Who am I? Am I my whole,
am I worthy, do I matter?" Life's essential questions. But no matter what I say to them, my words do not seep in. Because they've internalized
another voice, you see, that of their parents, an early voice. Now try erasing that first blueprint. It runs wild, rampant,
chaotic, unpredictable. It comes to be the way
we define ourselves. It becomes the air we breathe. Parents, few hold a greater power
or more immense responsibility. And this is why I'm here today, to propose that we occupy
the role of parenthood in an entirely different way,
with a renewed curiosity, a heightened awareness,
a transformed commitment. Because nothing like parenthood that needs to be at the forefront
of our global consciousness. It's the call, the linchpin that affects how our children
will thrive. Everything: how they take care
of themselves, each other, the earth, show compassion, tolerate differences,
handle their emotions, create, invent, innovate. This is where global
transformation begins. We cannot expect our children
to embody an enlightened consciousness if we parents haven't dared
to model this ourselves. It all starts with us and how we parent. Our children are facing challenges today
that we couldn't have dreamed of. And evidence suggests that
they are buckling under the pressure. One in five children in America shows signs or symptoms
of a psychological disorder. Now that is a hair-raising statistic. Two years ago, there were over
662,000 children in America that were in foster care. The use of ADHD drugs
is on an exponential high. 274% global increase. UNICEF did a study a few years ago and found that American children ranked the second unhappiest. There was a study done in the UK
of 30,000 children, and it was reported
that one in ten, over the age of 8, reported being unhappy
on a consistent basis. Something is amiss. We need to sit up, pay attention
and raise our children differently. Now, of course, parental influence
isn't the only factor at play. There are confusing and colliding and chaotic influences
in our children's life that shape them indeterminably. We aren't the only ones, of course. There's neurobiology,
there's temperament, there's social pressures,
there's poverty. We could blame psychiatry,
education, Big Pharma and the government, and chances are we may be right, but our influence in these spheres
is relatively limited. But let me tell you where we hold
indubitable power. That is in the relationship
we nurture with our children. Our children and us,
moment after moment after moment. Nothing glamorous here. Early in the morning,
as they brush their teeth, as we take off their backpack, as we soothe away their tears, brush away their fears, put them to sleep at night. This is where each one of us
holds transformative power. There is no excuse. Now this isn't just
some clinical psychologist here speaking of her convictions. There's real science behind this to show how the parental relationship impacts not only our emotionality
and our psychology, but also our neurobiology. Here, take a look at this, two brains of 3-year-olds. A great difference in size. You may wonder why? An illness perhaps?
A genetic mutation? No. They differ in the quality
of the relationship they shared with their mother. The one on the left
suffered abuse and neglect, and the one on the right enjoyed the thriving
connected relationship. Chances are, the one on the left
will grow into an adult at greater risk for drugs,
crime, a lower IQ, and most tragically, a diminished capacity
for empathy and relatedness. Now, the mother of the child
on the left certainly wasn't evil. She was probably
a mother who loved her child. You know, we don't hurt our children
because we are evil or ill-intentioned, certainly not out of a lack of love. We hurt our children
for one reason only: it's because we are hurting ourselves and we barely know it. It's because we are unconscious, because we have inherited
legacies of emotional baggage from our own parents. We're sitting on emotional baggage
that lies dormant unconscious, waiting to be triggered
at a moment's notice. And who better to trigger us
than our children? They just know the buttons to push. Through our children
we get theatre seats, orchestra seats to the theatrics
of our emotional immaturity. You know when we lose
our temper with our children and believe that
they're devils and monsters, chances are
it isn't because they're that, but because they've triggered
an old wound within us. They've made us feel feelings
that we don't care to feel. They've made us feel powerless
and out-of-control, helpless, and in order to regain
a sense of supremacy, we lash out at them in reactivity. You know when we pick on
our children nonstop, we nitpick at them, "Why aren't you like this?
Why don't you do that? "Why couldn't you be more like her?" Chances are it's not because
they are inadequate, but because we come
from a place of inner lack, and we ourselves live under
the tyranny of a severe inner critic. You know when our children
are disrespectful to us and cross our boundaries
and we fret and fume, and commiserate with our friends
about our evil children? Chances are it's not because
they're wild and chaotic, but because we ourselves have a problem with our leadership,
with consistency, with order, with handling conflict,
with saying no. You know, our children come to us
whole, complete and worthy. They're happy with two sticks,
a stone and a feather. But because we've been conditioned
so deeply in an unconscious manner, so severed from our own sense
of presence, wholeness, attunement, and sense of self
and whole and abundance that we project a sense of lack
onto them, and we teach them, "Do not depend on your sense of self
for worth and value, but look outward. Look to the Ferrari,
the corporate corner office, to the casino, to the pill,
to the bottle, to the needle, to spouse number one,
two and three, to where you live,
to where you graduated from. Because we are severed
from a sense of being, we are consumed by doing. This is how we know self value. We teach our children, "You can't simply play,
you must achieve." "You can't have a hobby,
you must excel at it." "You cannot dream,
you must dream big and why really dream
if you can't succeed?" It's time for us to change the spotlight, to turn it inward, and change it from being
the child who needs to be fixed, the child as the one with the problem, and parental evolution as the solution. The extent to which we as parents
know ourselves, is the extent to which our children will. The extent to which we as parents
can love deeply, laugh loudly, risk bravely and lose freely, is the extent to which our children
will know joy and freedom. The extent to which
we can run out into the rain without fear of getting wet, is the extent to which
our children will lead lives of courage. The time to awaken is now. The parenting paradigm
needs to shift. No more the parent as
the greater than, but now we need to look
at our children as equal if not greater transforming agents. Our children are our awakeners,
they are our teachers. It is time for us parents
to answer the call, to pause, to reflect more, to connect to our own abundance, to trust our children, to understand their brilliance, to follow their lead, to self-love, to create purpose, to enter worth, to be in gratitude. For this is how our children
will absorb wholeness and abundance,
fullness and spirit. And from this place, they can fly free. It is time for us parents to answer
our call to our own awakening. The moment is now
and our children await. (Applause)
