Translator: Javier Mariño Reviewer: Maria Pericleous
Today is the big day, the family has decided that it's time
to remove the training wheels from their child's bike.
Today.
Long family deliberation,
diverse opinions are heard, for and against,
but the resolution is that, yes, not only will they take off the wheels,
but it will be the day the child rides a few metres all by itself.
For the occasion, because it's a very special day,
there's a VIP audience that consists of:
the grandparents, the siblings,
the odd uncle.
And the fittest person
is standing next to the bike and its rider,
who is preparing to start pedalling,
and holding it in a certain style.
We have the "nape" style,
(Laughter)
the "back" style,
or the "little seat" style.
So, it begins.
Big expectations - you have them too, right?
Slowly, then a bit faster,
and when the speed increases enough,
the hand holding the bike lets go,
and the first meters are covered.
In those seconds, in those few seconds,
lots of things happen.
Let's rewind.
Let's imagine scene number one, out of two possible ones.
The family and the VIP audience who are watching are saying:
"What a beautiful moment. Jorgito, you can do it.
You are doing great, come on. If you fall, it's alright. Let's do it."
The positivity is also transmitted
through the hand of the parent holding the bike.
The warm hand that holds you, that stays with you.
If the child feels that warmth embracing him, wrapping him,
giving him a point of reference,
when the time comes for the hand, the physical support, to be removed,
he will still feel the effects of a spiritual support
and will still feel in his chest a glow of confidence
that will give him the balance he needs to complete his journey.
Scene number two, let's rewind.
VIP Audience:
"Oh, my God, he's going to kill himself."
(Laughter)
"Oh, something bad will happen to him,
just like his brother who fell and broke his head."
Right? God!
Picture that atmosphere in the hand that holds the bike -
the parent or mentor that leads.
Slowly, all that I told you before,
the kid, who listens and feels,
all his muscles get tense,
and - oh my God - he doesn't feel that support.
Who will hold him then?
The ground.
(Laughter)
The ground is going to hold him.
What happened? What happened?
What crept into the luminous process
that learning to ride a bike should be?
What happened in this second scene?
Fear crept in.
Fear managed to invade the leap of faith that is to ride a bicycle.
And when I speak of faith and trust
and the fear that creeps into the parenting process,
I can also say that fear creeps into other types of rearing.
That's for those who aren't parents
because you raise your projects and your dreams to make them grow,
but fear creeps in.
A paralysing fear that holds you back,
that takes hold when you are raising a child,
and makes you opt for control and security
rather than freedom and creativity.
Fear takes over,
and it's understandable that many writers
consider fear, and not hatred,
to be the true opposite of love.
It takes work to hate somebody.
You bond with the one you hate,
but fear doesn't even allow you to bond;
it makes things blurry, it holds you back.
It takes you into darkness,
to the premise that the only way to make sure nothing bad happens
is for you not to exist.
So what about the parents?
I have worked with many groups of parents, for many years.
I am a parent,
and I can assure you that fear is bad for us.
It results in a way of parenting
that focuses solely on ensuring that bad things don't happen,
preventing bad things from happening,
and forgetting to ensure that good things happen.
One forgets to promote an idea of a world that can have dangers -
of course it does, nobody can deny it,
no one says you should not be sensible in this world.
But this world can be hospitable, and it is hospitable as well.
A few years ago,
I was in Montevideo in a parent talk speaking of these things,
and a mother told me a story that I found very significant.
She told me she rented a very nice house next to a lagoon, very idyllic.
A nice house, a small lagoon, a little pier, a little boat.
Totally cool.
She goes there with her little children and her husband,
she sees the lagoon, panics,
and she calls the kids, sits them and says to them:
"Kids, don't go near the water, don't get into the boat,
don't play close to the lagoon, don't go up to the dock,"
and many more things until her nine-year-old says,
"Mum, stop. Don't give us ideas!"
(Laughter)
Don't give us ideas.
Notice how it works: fear can be around,
but the problem starts when it lives in us and takes over.
Do you understand?
And fear is only one, but it has 1,000 faces,
especially when we talk about parenting,
fear has 1,000 faces.
Fear of failure,
fear that the kid won't turn out as well as I would have wanted,
fear of criticism.
Fear of criticism is tremendous;
fear of criticism from our own parents, when we are parents ourselves,
fear of criticism from in-laws, that's hard.
Fear of criticism from our own children,
that's also hard
since it blurs the role of the parents.
Today, we consider it very important for our kids to be smiling and happy,
and that becomes our purpose.
Our purpose is not merely that but for kids to grow up,
and that sometimes requires a different attitude from parents
that involves more than managing situations
with a happy face.
That is why, sometimes,
while we are raising our children,
when we see replicated in them
our own dreams and struggles,
we become aware of something very important,
the direct relationship between our well-being as parents
and their well-being as children.
There is no competition between our well-being as parents
and their well-being as children.
And if you tune in to reality,
you'll see that sometimes it seems that paternity is a sacrifice,
and we forget our joy.
We forget important things,
like recognizing
that when they see us being well,
they are also well.
When they see that we may be afraid,
but that we are not helpless in the face of fear,
they are happy and rejoice.
How can we get out of the trap of fear?
Escaping our prison of fear is a very complex issue
that has to do with something I said a while ago:
fear always has a reason.
In fact, fear has a reason,
but that is the only thing it has.
That's all it has.
Fear is irrefutable, because anything can always go wrong.
So when kids see us nurturing ourselves,
freeing ourselves from fear, that's good for them.
And how do we get out of that trap?
Not by fighting it.
We can't fight it on a rational level,
because something can go wrong at any time.
And here's an analogy,
because I believe that what helps us escape the trap of fear is trust.
And trust, like light, has a mysterious origin,
but it exists.
It has a mysterious origin but it exists.
It's not focused on something in the future,
but on something that is already here, we just have to open our eyes to see it.
And the light ...
Look, I'm going to tell you a story that comes from oriental wisdom
that will better explain what I mean.
If we have two contiguous rooms,
one in the light and one in the dark,
and make a hole in the wall that divides them,
what's going to happen?
It is the light that pours into the darkness,
the darkness will not pour into the light.
And that is an image, that doesn't only apply in this case,
but in many others also, so keep it in mind,
because it is extremely useful.
They are not equivalent, light is defined by what it is,
and darkness is the absence of light;
it has no entity of its own, much like fear.
That's why, when we are in the dark, we are afraid.
We don't conquer darkness by fighting it,
but by turning on the light.
And where does the light come from? The parents, they are our source of light.
Well, we have our own history.
If we're here, we did something right.
Not just the list of negative things, no.
Let us remember that we are here because we must have done something well.
Likewise, we are there, we might have that problem,
and if we have it, if we call a child "a problem"...
A child is more than a problem. Let us remember that.
It's a blessing, remember? Please do remember that.
Because people say, "My child is a problem."
No. Your child is your child. He has problems.
No, I mean, in case you forgot.
(Applause)
So when our problem, I mean, our child is there,
when we emit light, we do so from inside who we really are.
And that means not only by doing things for them
but also doing things for ourselves.
And one of our resources
is to have people around us with whom to share our fears.
When you're afraid, don't fight fear,
share it, talk about it, discuss it.
"Yes, I'm afraid". "So am I."
No more fear, because we are no longer alone.
Why? I don't know. That's how it is.
When we are with someone else, we stop being afraid
even if the problem is still there,
even if the same ghosts are still there.
When the kids see us being well, they are also well,
and when they see us well, they want to be like us.
What does it mean they want to be like us?
Do they want to be exactly like us?
The doctor's kid will be a doctor?
The architect's will be an architect?
No. They want to be like us in spirit.
They have an important role model to aspire to.
Not like so many teenagers now say: "I don't want to grow up."
And yet, dude, you're 35.
(Laughter)
No, no, because I don't want to become like my parents -
bitter, worried and all that.
No, no, no. A good life for us.
But a good life in an integral sense.
Which means to incorporate that if we, as men and women,
have problems, we deal with them.
We deal with them, with love.
Remembering what I said a little while ago, remembering our virtues,
not just pointing out flaws.
And when I talk about children who want to be like us,
great in spirit, I speak of a promised land.
It is the best vaccine against problems of life,
to have a promised land.
It's the way to proceed from the desert we have as children,
to have a promised land.
And the promised land is the parents.
When there is a promised land, it is hard, much harder
for the kid to lose its way and end up on the wrong track.
There is something for the child to look up to.
Following on from this, there is an image that moves me very much
as a metaphor of what parenthood is,
and it is the image of the lighthouse.
A lighthouse, lighthouses, those which are on the coast,
those which are at the difficult points of the coast,
so that on dark nights, they can provide light,
a speck of light, which, according to the song,
twinkles, flickers, and shimmers every 12 seconds.
And it's always there, the lighthouse doesn't go to the ship
to rescue it, but it offers its light.
As parents we are that light,
offering our love.
That light is throbbing.
The navigator is out there at night, he doesn't know where he is,
but he sees that light and knows he's not alone, he is no longer afraid.
That light is throbbing, it's there.
It's the balancing point, just like the kid on the bike,
it's the balance point.
When the sailor sees that light, he orients himself, he understands.
And from that point on, with his own sails,
with his own rudder and machinery,
he embarks on the course towards his destination.
Thank you.
(Applause)