Awareness isn’t always complicated, not necessarily. It doesn’t always have to be explained through esoteric theories. Awareness can be simplified. Awareness can be practiced. Awareness is now.

Knowing this won’t make your life perfect, but it will improve it by making you more aware of the important moments that are happening around you. Two recent moments from my life may serve to illustrate what I’m talking about.

The Morning Shave

Recently one morning while my son was getting ready for school he asked for a favor. His hair has been growing out and lately that growth has started to result in the faintest appearance of facial hair, the presence of which was starting to bother him. With that in mind, he asked me to help him shave his side burns. I didn’t give it much thought, simply complied by quickly shaving his face then continuing to prepare myself for the day.

It wasn’t until he was dropped off at school and I was on my way to work that I took a moment to reflect on what had really happened.

For the first time in his life, my son had wanted to shave—I’m doubtful his request could be qualified as a need—and he asked me to help him. That moment represented more than the completion of a simple task. It marked a significant moment in my son’s life as well as mine. The slightest and perhaps the most superficial step had been taken away from boyhood and towards him becoming a man, but it was still a step nonetheless.

The paradox of parenting is that it is incredibly meaningful while at the same time being incredibly boring. It is easy to spend your days too busy and distracted to take full stock of what is happening. All the miracles playing out in front of you with regularity. I was able to capture that moment before it got away from me, and for that I owe credit to a learned habit of self-examination. A tendency to check in with myself and as I did that morning, inquire about what is really happening.

This allowed me to recall the moment in detail. Our two images reflected in the mirror and looking back at us as I instructed him to stand still. The humming sound the clippers made as they brushed against the contours of my son’s face. Remembering it allowed me to re-experience it as it had been, with full awareness and not as a person going through life on autopilot. I felt a sense of pride and gratitude for being able to recoup the joy of the moment instead of rushing past it.

Struggling at School

Just as awareness isn’t always complicated, neither is it always pleasant. Sometimes, as Yalom said, the price of awareness is pain, and there is another moment with my son that also attests to that fact.

I found out that my son was keeping a secret from me. He doesn’t know that I know this, but I do, which is another regularity for parents. The secret is that recently he’s had trouble with a kid at his school—trouble that doesn’t quite rise to the level of bullying, but has certainly caused some frustration for my son.

Beyond the natural discomfort of knowing someone is messing with my kid, there was also the sting of knowing my son doesn’t feel ready to share this information with me. My only guess is that it has something to do with what happened a few years ago when he was having a different problem at a different school. Once I became aware of it I went to the school to address the issue with his principal. I did this despite my son’s protests and requests that I not involve myself in this way. A decision that may now be paying dividends in the form of his reluctance to tell me about the issue he’s currently having.

There are two reactions a person can have after discovering something like this. The natural reaction is to personalize it. To prioritize my own feelings of hurt, defensiveness, and worry. My own concerns about my shortcomings as a father. All of these thoughts and feelings were present and if left unattended, would fester until I felt compelled to force the truth out of my son. This forced confession would serve no purpose other than gratifying my own need for relief from emotional terror.

The better path, and the less common one, is to notice my emotions, but pause before acting on them. I didn’t need to interrogate my son. I needed to interrogate myself. To try and understand what I was feeling, and ask myself how I got to be so afraid as to think that a single moment somehow signaled a change in my entire relationship with my son.

It hasn’t. On some level I know the work of parenting is forever incomplete, always in progress. Children love stubbornly, so much so that there is almost no mistake that can’t be undone if one is willing to make the effort.

Being aware of my emotions and the accessibility of either response allowed me to choose the healthy option instead of the habitual one. Regulating my emotions allowed me to respect my son’s boundaries and respond with patience instead of trying to control the situation.

I did eventually talk to him in my own way. The support I provided was targeted and, I hope, unencumbered by my fears and doubts. I acknowledged to him the fact that he’s changing, that he’s on the cusp of adolescence, and the ways that he and I relate to one another are changing as well. But it’s still important for him to know that I’m there for him and that he can always trust in my presence, regardless of what our relationship looks like.

Whether it is joy or pain that is felt, either emotion deserves to be respected. Both originate within the self and with awareness can be broken down and dissected, by noticing, pausing, reflecting, and then, intentionally choosing how to show up.

Small Moments, Big Meaning: Awareness & The Work of Parenting

From Home to Higher Care: Strategies for Difficult Conversations