19 things I tried to teach my son

ISSUE 47 | MAY 9, 2025
19 things I tried to teach my son

My Loves,

I’m interrupting my 3 part, What in the Woo? Series for some Mother’s Day wuv. Because moms get to pull rank. (It’s Mother’s Day in North America and Australia on May 11. UK it was March 15.)

My son just moved across the country. My grief (don’t go!) and aggravation (time to go!) has morphed into excitement for both of us (LFG!)

I wept, almost daily, for weeks leading up to his departure. Then he peeled out of our cul-de-sac and I just crumbled. Took me by surprise how deep that pain hit. I processed it and I’m going to write about it in a few weeks. I just need a minute.

Also, I’ve been travelling for a few weeks and today I’m in Paris feeling zero guilt about eating crêpes and Nutella, then I’m en route to Québec to spend Mother’s Day with my son and my mom!

In some particular order, here’s how I attempted to entrain my only child into higher consciousness, mostly by example, but often by preaching in the kitchen while making burritos. Turns out that the kid incarnated as a wise soul, and my hot air was just some wind beneath his wings.

19 THINGS I TRIED TO TEACH MY SON

When you’re right, don’t be an asshole about being right. Subtle righteousness is the best play. (I probably was projecting this life lesson, because this comes way more naturally to my kid than it does to me.)
Idealism is magnetic.
RELATIONSHIPS ARE FIRST. Choose friends. People over profits. Drive them home. Stay in touch. Break up really lovingly—but don’t over-explain. You don’t need a LOT of friends to be fulfilled, but emotional intimacy with quality people is what defines most of our living.
FOLLOW THE MONEY. Who funded that scientific study, that group, the demonstration, that policy? Who stands to gain, fast? Who will lose over time? Follow the money, every time.
Stand up straight. The spine conducts Kundalini energy, life force—you will think, see and digest better. And people will feel safer in your presence. Bonus points for good posture in restaurants, with your napkin placed on your lap. Remember to push the chair back in when you’re leaving. Be sure to quietly judge everyone else who does NOT push their chair back in when they leave. In fact, make this the qualifying test for every relationship in your life.
Please express your anger and frustration. It turns to sadness when you hold it in.
Be bored. It will make you more creative.
Words create your reality. You can say you don’t “like” tomatoes. But we don’t say that we “hate” tomatoes. Hate is a no no.
Harper and I can’t bear to be in conflict with each other. It’s the most “wrong” feeling I’ve experienced. We bark. We’ve slammed doors. But within the hour, we’re saying sorry, finding the laughs and the huggles. A good thing I did with him when he was little was to be quick and generous with my apologies.
I got him into good rock n’ roll early on. Started with The Beatles and Bowie. Zeppelin. Queen. Which opens the door to T Rex, The Clash, which leads to 70’s folk, CSNY… which is right around the corner from Grand Funk Railroad, which brings us to Erykah Badu. When I’d hear him listening to 70’s music in his room, I’d think, “My work here is done.”
I stood up for him—in front of him. If an adult was being condescending, I used some love and humour to correct the adult.
Ritualize. Birthdays. Beginnings. Sage it, pray over it, commemorate it. Give it all a name.
How can we make this more beautiful? Beauty heals.
Don’t talk smack to artificial intelligence. a) because it’s being crowd-sourced trained how to treat humans. And b) shit talk is low vibe. Don’t stoop your vibe for any reason, especially a machine.
Shop second hand.
SPEND MONEY. Invest money. Then save money. In that order. And government investment vehicles are mostly a racket. Put your money where it’s accessible and it will actually grow.
If you’re not really enjoying it, it’s okay to leave. If you don’t like the movie, you can get your money back if you leave within the first twenty minutes. If the book is really bad, don’t finish it. If the party is boring, slip out. No need to suffer. By the way, this philosophy lead to him graduating high school a year early. He didn’t love the curriculum, so he nailed the credits, graduated, and started his carpentry + music career.
Profuse Gratitude is the Tao. Thank EVERYONE, ALL THE TIME.
I kept it real. Maybe too real sometimes. Oversharing about my love life. Hormonal crying while making avo on GF toast before school, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me, I’m fiiine.” Maybe it helped him be such a patient, cool guy. Maybe I owe him some therapy money.

My gratitude section in How To Be Loving: “HLJ. You’ve taught me one of the greatest virtues of all: patience. And not because I’ve had to be patient with you. But because you’ve been so patient with me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Post script for parents of lil’ ones:

It all started like this: Watched The Business of Being Born. Read Ina Mays’ Guide to Natural Childbirth and all the Dr. Sears books.
Had a home birth. Co-slept. Lived off credit cards and savings for the first two years rather than pay someone to look after him while I worked.
No sugar, no fruit juice, no baby sitters, no screens of any kind for the first few years. No “time outs.”
Read Gabor Maté and Gordon Neufeld’s Hold On To Your Kids, and Raising Cain (Kindlon and Thompson).
Was never convinced that team sports make you a better person. Didn’t force it.
No device until he was 11. Talked openly about porn, drugs, addiction and censorship—my theory was: get to him with information before the internet does.
Shared passwords until he was 18.
Ton of freedom. All creativity, all the time.
Watched movies that were way too advanced for him because I couldn’t stomach the Disney.
Took him pretty much everywhere—restaurants, business meetings, dinner parties… with a sketch pad and some magic markers.