This weekend we hosted a sleepover for six eleven year old boys. And I spent a lot of time wanting things to be different.
Turns out that eleven year old boys are loud and energetic and rough. And it really doesn't matter if there is a baby in the next room trying to sleep or if you would like them to be better behaved. It really doesn't matter if I would rather spend a quiet evening with a book.
Reality wins. And in wanting things to be different, I created a lot of suffering for myself.
Yes, our lives can be chaotic and noisy. Can we accept that instead of fighting it? (That doesn't mean that we let the kids set the rules. It does mean that the rules we set are more realistic for eleven year old boys, though.)
Every time I'm with a large group of children I am offered this as a practice. Like any practice, it feels like it is slow going. But for now, this is what is happening.