I was talking to my best friend, whose wife had just given birth to a son, about the best way to practice writing. Taking heed to Buddha’s words, I said dive into the work. He went on to tell me his preferred method. That he analyzed other writers’ work to find what made it click. That he worked with a writing coach. That he practiced specific techniques that he found valuable. And that practicing needed to be perfect practice.

I then calmly asked him, “What the hell is perfect practice?”

To me, it sounded like you couldn’t make mistakes while practicing when it’s really the best time to make mistakes. It’s those mistakes that we make in practice or immersed in our work that can give us some of the most profound insights. I told him there’s no one correct way of doing anything well.

It’s the geniuses, the innovators that create the rule, the market. Just look at the world of media. We have books and TV shows about wizards and vampires and wolves.

When I had my teaching and mentoring business, I was all about changing behavior. Shit. I was one of the laziest people I knew. I watched TV to no end. I had little passion for anything, or at least I thought I had little passion for anything. I slept for most of the day when I could. That was the life! Then something changed. A yearning grew. Not that yearning. Well…not the place to discuss.

I started to think about the things I wanted. Things I wished to accomplish. And somehow I was disciplined enough to go to the gym, write, have a social life, teach, and still have free time to just chill. How did I become disciplined? Hell if I know.

Actually, they were things that I wanted to do. Loved to do. I mean going to the gym was easy. There’s a lot of hot chicks there.

During the years that I taught, I made a slow discovery. As awesome a teacher as I was, I couldn’t make my students do anything. Yes, they listened to me. Yes, they behaved when I shushed them. But they eventually fell back to their shenanigans.

What I could do was listen to them, guide them toward their own well being, help them realize their own potential in real time physical exercises, and help them realize what they truly wanted in life. Their behavior was outside of my reach, outside of anyone’s reach, except their own.

One parent came up to me and was extremely concerned about her child’s time management skills. He loved to procrastinate. She was my client, so I did my best to try and change that behavior, asked him why he procrastinated, gave him specific things to do to swerve him from waiting till the last minute.

He made the changes for a day. Then he reverted back to his old ways. His grades never improved from the mostly A’s and B’s he already received. I know, I know.

Now in college, I asked him how school was going. He loved it, tried a slew of different things, as I suggested, so he could have a better idea of what he might love to do in life. I asked him how his grades were. Mostly A’s and B’s.

I asked him if he was ok with that. Totally fine, he answered.

Do you still procrastinate, I asked. He reluctantly nodded.

I laughed, told him that this was his method and that it seemed to work. If he felt bad about his grades, that he wanted to improve, then changes may need to be made (depending on why he felt bad). Since everything was fine, there was nothing to do but catch up on old times.

I had told my best friend this story, as he’s also close to this family, and the silence on the phone meant he didn’t agree.

He has his way toward excellence. I have mine. And as long as those methods work for us without any feelings of guilt or anxiousness, but with peace of mind, then whose to say that were wrong?

Propaganda.  We’ve all seen it.  Heard it.

“Elect me and I will save the world.”

“Read my lips:  no new taxes.”

I’ve worked in many corporations.  The one thing they all do is shell out propaganda.  They hail how innocent and awesome they are.

When I turn on my computer at work, the homepage is locked to our intranet webpage.  Every day we’re bombarded by propaganda.  Sometimes I feel chained.

So it was a bit entertaining for me to read an article my company posted about why teens are angry.  They even had a doctor share some advise.  I mean, he’s got a PhD.

“I think zombies are defined by behavior and can be “explained” by many handy shortcuts: the supernatural, radiation, a virus, space visitors, secret weapons, a Harvard education…”  -Roger Ebert in reviewing The Crazies.

The doctor’s article was a magnificently crafted and well written piece of crap.  I found one crucial thing missing.  And upon teaching and mentoring kids for most of my adult life, there has become no one-size-fits-all advice, save one.

Listening.

I had a student once whose parents put him under so much pressure to do well in high school that he was on the verge of suicide.  At first I thought, “What did I do?”  But it had been a year since the end of our sessions.  So I thought back to them to see what was the root cause of such destructive behavior.

My student and I had taken a walk one day and just talked.  My approach in teaching, despite coming from a very tier-structured martial arts background, was to view any student as an equal.  I’m not a teacher.  They are not students.  We are human beings.

The subject of ivy league education came up, something his parents expected of him.  I asked him if he wanted to go.  He answered yes.  There was a lot of trepidation in his voice.  So I asked him if he was sure.  He slumped his shoulder and said he really didn’t care about going to an ivy league school.  That he was happy to just receive a normal (whatever that means) education.

I presented what I’d learned to his parents and, of course, they were upset.  Like I had opened Pandora’s Box.

A couple years later, he was on the verge of suicide.

Being loving parents, they got the best help they could afford.  Interestingly enough, the parents were instructed to relieve all pressures of any kind, which included the pressure of school, and to allow him to express himself in anyway he wanted to.

Today, I’m very glad to say he’s thriving.

We talk so much about listening when in intimate relationships.  But we rarely talk about it when it comes to raising children.

I tell parents that their children are like people (wink wink).  Treat them like people.  Ask them how they feel.  What they want? Why do they want or feel that way?  Is there anything they need?  If not, let them know you’ll be there with no judgement.  For judgement is the lock that will shut the door to their children.

Be open with them, and they’ll be open with you.

In my lessons, I let my students, no matter the age, say what they want.  Swearing included.  I do give advice, if they want, but I tell them it’s up to them to follow it.  My mentoring process changes as they change, which is why I believe there is no one-size-fits-all guide to children.

Just listen.

In my years of guiding people in their lives, I’ve learned there are two kinds of lessons.  One learned without experience and one by experience-the hard way.  Noshee in myepisodeslearned many lessons by experience.  My whole book is about lessons learned the hard way.

Which way is better?

Let’s ask a question.  Does getting hit by a car feel good?  I can tell you by experience it doesn’t.  But if I wanted to teach someone this, would I plow through them with my car?

Maybe.

For most people they don’t need to be hit by a car to know it’ll hurt.  I guess, I wasn’t one of those.

I was talking to friends, a mother and father, who have a daughter.  She’s been dating this boy who doesn’t treat her well.  I can’t go into detail but he’s abusive.  By his behavior he’s possessive, needy and manipulative.  I know this because I was once possessive, needy and manipulating.  It takes one to know one.

My friends want their daughter to rid of this boy for good reason.  They talked to their daughter on numerous occasions, but she’s become codependent.  In her case, the codependence comes from a lack of self-worth, despite her confident facade.  And it’s sad because my friends feel helpless to do anything.  In listening to their conversations I know the daughter has to learn this lesson the hard way.  The lesson that she deserves to be treated with much more respect, the lesson that she deserves someone who’ll truly love her, the lesson that she deserves her independence.

Just as I had to learn that my behavior of possession, neediness, and manipulation wasn’t healthy for the women I dated, it was unhealthy for me as a human being.

For those who think the parents should force separation, let’s look at the bigger picture.

If they were succesful in permanently separating the couple, they would alleviate the immediate situation.  But will the daughter have learned the lesson of self-worth that she deserves better?  That her relationship is unhealthy?  No.  How do I know this?  Because humans repeat their behavior until lessons are learned.  And lessons are learned only if the person is ready to change.  It’s obvious to me the daughter isn’t ready for that.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.

Not only will she repeat the behavior, she may enter another relationship that is even worse.  Once she learns this lesson, she’ll be able to identify future relationships that won’t be good for her, no matter how good they appear on paper.

She’s also an actress.  In the future, a role may be given to her.  A role in which the female character went through something similar.  And she nails the audition because she knows exactly what the character is experiencing.  And this role may catapult her career.  Where without this experience she may not get the role.

This experience can also lead to the man, her ‘soul’ mate.  Again, without going through the hard lesson, she may not see herself deserving someone so great and overlook him.  There are infinite possibilities.

Sometimes, lessons must be learned by experience.

When I was a kid, I loved movies.  But there were certain ones that I’ve always connected to but never knew why.  Now, as I’m wiser, not necessarily more mature, I know why I loved certain movies, why I kept watching them over and over.

One day I was rummaging through a fantasy book store and came across The Neverending Story, by Michael Ende.  The book was first published in 1979 in German.  Ralph Manheim translated it to English.  I must have seen the movie dozens of times.  I loved the characters, I loved the story within the story, and I totally loved the soundtrack.  So when I saw the hardcover, I bought it.

For parents and children, this is totally appropriate.  It’s an allegory on life, and if you watch the movie with your kids, ask them what the movie means.  It’s the one thing that I don’t see parents doing is asking their kids what things mean to them.  Do it and you’ll be surprised by what you find out.

When I mentor students, I always ask what things mean, or how they feel about the experiences they’re going through.  It’s also my main tool in getting them to open up.  Eventually, they spill the beans about anything that I ask.  I need to know what they’re thinking, feeling in order to help them out.  Click here if you want to read more on talking to your children.

If you read to your kids, read The Neverending Story.  If not, then watch the movie.  Don’t have the money to rent movies, well the whole movie is on youtube:  Part 1.

While I was perusing youtube at work, don’t tell my boss, I came across the Karate Kid.  This is an interesting movie.  Not because of the awesome cat-like choreography.  To me the hero is interesting.

A normal underdog story goes something like this:  hero enters new world (town, school, wizard school), is overwhelmed by bad dude (love interest’s ex, bully, the most evilest powerfulest wizard), gets a gift (learns the way of love, learns how to fight, learns he’s a great wizard), and, voila, hero wins.

Most of the times, the bad buy is an actual bad guy.  Not in The Neverending Story or Karate Kid.  The antagonist is the hero’s disbelief in themselves.

When we look at Neverending, Bastian, the hero, must follow his inspiration, his love for books, fantasy, and story.  It isn’t until he fully gives in does he overcome the antagonist, self-doubt.  In Kid, Daniel must believe in himself.  He never got stronger, faster, or learned more karate then the bully.  The bully was never the obstacle, just the opportunity.  His teacher guided him to trust in his ability, to let go of his self-proclaimed weaknesses.  In doing so, Daniel prevailed, or what I like to term kicked ass.

I’ve always loved stories that have this undertone.  When I look at the characters I’ve written in my book, all of them at some level must deal with self-belief.  It’s the one thing I hone in on when I mentor people.   I use stories to open conversations with children, to guide them toward their passions in life, their truth.

If you’ve watched any movies or films where there’s a parent/child dynamic, the parent always views their child as children, no matter the age.  My mom does this to me a lot.  When I visit her for dinner, she’ll make three dishes-chicken, beef, and a vegetable entree.  She makes enough to feed an family of four, but it’s just the two of us eating.

First she’ll say that all of this costs less than a single entree at a restaurant.  Then as I take a piece of chicken, she’ll point to the beef dish and ask if I don’t like beef.  I take a piece of beef, and she points to the vegetable dish and ask if I don’t like vegetables.  I take some and put it in my bowl, and she points to the chicken.  She asks me why I won’t eat the chicken.

Over the years of mediating between parents and their children, I’ve noticed that parents are reluctant to change their role.  As babies, parents provide everything-food, clothing, healthcare, etc.  When children get older, the amount of care needed lessens.  Obvious, right?  You’re not going to prop your ten year old on the table and change their diaper.  If you do, then there are issues of discipline you’ll need to deal with.  During the teenage years, kids tend to want some sort of independence.  That’s why they don’t like to be seen with their moms or dads.  It’s totally uncool.  Once people grow into young adulthood, then further on as adults, parents still care and worry about them as if they were little kids.  As children grow, so must the parent’s role.

When I taught privately, my advantage was not having any emotional attachment.  I would listen to my students problems or issues, and I wouldn’t judge them.  Some had sex early on.  Other’s cussed a lot.  Many had complaints about their overbearing parents.  They told me everything.  I’d help them if they wanted, but left the subject if they didn’t.  Parents would be thankful that I was there to listen to their children’s problems, but didn’t really know how to gain their child’s trust.  It’s simple, but can be hard to do.

Listen to them, ask questions about what they’re talking about, and do your damned best not to judge.  Don’t overreact, yell, scream, or solve their problems.  Ask if they need help, for sure.  But just listen.  If you want to give your two cents, then ask if you can give your opinion.  Trust me, if they want it, they’ll say yes.  IF they don’t want it, and you give it to them, it’ll go out one ear and out the other.  That doesn’t mean you don’t make them aware of issues of sex, drugs, or alcohol.  You do.  I’d recommend not to be overbearing.

I live by two guidelines when I teach.  The teacher appears when the student is ready.  So if people are ready to learn, they will listen.  When I teach, I don’t teach, nor do I take the role of teacher.  When I teach, I take the role of guide.  Life is a massive landscape of unknown.  Just as you would hire a guide for a safari, be your children’s guide when they need it.