Since my son took his first breath, I realized that the young ones were closer to the divine, closer to truth; and my greatest life lessons would most likely come from suspending my beliefs and listening to them. It was pretty easy for me. Children’s words and ideas just made sense. Adults, on the other hand, rarely made sense. At times my training would get in the way—my training of what a child’s behavior should look like. But the more I watched my children, the easier it became to see all beliefs as lies. Children are born wise, not educated. Children are born spiritual, not religious. Children are born with love inside; they have to learn to hate from their parents and teachers.
My youngest son is a serious gamer. It is a label that invokes judgment from even the most liberal adults. Gamers are viewed as lazy, unmotivated, and self-absorbed. I always suspected that something magic was happening in the gaming communities–the joy on my son’s face told me that it was serving some great purpose, and I’d understand it in time. Psychiatrists believe that the gamers are programming their minds for war. I once asked my son about this, knowing that he probably knew more than most therapists. His answer set me straight, “Mom, don’t you think we know the difference between pretend and real.” Of course, he did. It is the adults that don’t know the difference between pretend and real.
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