I am confused as to how my son’s friend knows that his mother is here to pick him up. This gets cleared up for me when I am told that his mother texted him to say she was out in our driveway. I sift through this one for days. The place I keep returning to could be labelled, “lost opportunities;” ones that are both obvious and subtle, specific and general, personal and communal. Here are a few: She and I miss out on getting to know one another a bit more. Our boys miss out on seeing their connection extend into the generation ahead of them. This mom misses out on  the possibility of breaking bread with us in the form of the delicious home-made cinnamon rolls my husband has just made. It was a beautiful Sunday morning here that would have been made even more beautiful with some unexpected company. And so, the very real and, these days ignored, impromptu opportunity to commune, with all of its unexpected gifts, has been lost.  Are we noticing this? Do we even care?

While the phrase, “It takes a village” has been appropriated and misused for personal and political gain, it stands true nontheless that our children need a community of support in their lives that extends beyond their immediate family; an invisible web that surrounds and protects them beyond the reach of our homes. They require a level of physical, emotional and spiritual holding that far exceeds the limited domain of their family of origin. In plain language, we all need to be looking out for each other’s kids. And one of the best ways to do this is to get to know one another. We used to know this. More than that, we used to live this. And we did not need reminders, catchy slogans or PSA announcements. We knew that our children could not be adequately held and protected without the support of those around us. And we, as parents knew that we needed each other. What’s changed?

(This is the last installment in a three part series looking at how it is we might navigate raising children in the Age of Technology. To catch up, go to True North Part 1 & 2)

Over the past few weeks, we have looked at your ability to be present, along with the living of your values, as a way of approaching the challenges we face raising children in technology dominated times. Today, we turn our attention to your child. You do not need to be a developmental expert to know what is and is not appropriate for your child regarding the technologies. What you do need is a willingness to learn how to be present to who it is that stands before you. To pay attention in a way that allows you to make decisions that have everything to do with the truest needs of children. Pause for a moment and think about your child. What is the leading edge of the phase they are in, the thing that most characterizes where they are at at this time in their lives? Then, ask yourself, “How do the technologies fit/not fit with this?”

Childhood is the great unfolding. Without even getting into the specifics of each stage, we can keep a couple of things in mind; there are crucial windows of development and experiences in childhood set the stage for lifelong habits. Looking first at the various stages of childhood, we need to remember that every time period contains both opportunity and vulnerability. Further, each stage rests on the foundation of what came before. We serve our children best when we can match the demands of their growing with the very best of what the environment has to offer. And what the environment has to offer needs to be culled so that it supports the real needs of growing bodies, minds and spirits. Throughout childhood, every part of them is “coming online.” Would we not be prudent to thoroughly vet how, when and where the screens might be distorting our children’s development?

Secondly, we know that childhood is the time when lifelong tastes, preferences and habits are established. Think back to your own childhood remembering something that was the norm for you back then, but that as an adult you needed to be free of in order to be happier and healthier. How hard was that? Once established, our habits can be difficult to break from, even when we know they are not working for us. Could we learn to be more protective when choosing what to expose our children to, knowing that what they receive as children imprints them for life? Here is a short list of what we are habituating them to; the need for increased stimulation and immediate gratification, sleep deprivation, the inability to be alone or quiet, disconnection from their bodies, the view of others as objects to be deleted when not to their liking, decreased creativity, the need for repetition and over-exposure, desensitization to disrespectful and disturbing images, and the harmful belief that they, not the adults, are in charge. If our children are always learning about what to bring with them into adulthood, what is it that we want them to carry forward?

Without a doubt, we are in the midst of an unprecedented experiment, and our children are unquestionably the guinea pigs. Will they be able to undo the unintended consequences that life with technology brings?  We could take the long view. We could be conservative. We do this all the time in other arenas like driving, drinking, voting, or getting married. We, the older generations, have come to the determination that these experiences exceed the developmental capacities of younger ages. This is not about deprivation or saying that technology is bad. It is about saying, “Not yet.”

P.S. In the end, raising children goes beyond tips, tricks and techniques. At its heart, this is about your presence, your ability to live your values and your capacity to discern the truest needs of your child.

Last week (see True North Part I) we began to explore the idea of creating an orientation that would help us navigate the demands of making choices around the technologies and our children. In our first conversation, we explored the absolute necessity of our presence. As the adults, we are faced with a serious and sacred charge; that of protecting and ushering our children through this world. Without the ability to be present in our own lives and in the lives of our children, we run the risk of allowing them to be exposed to what may not be in their best interest, simply because we were not “there.” This week, we look at how identifying and living our values serves as a companion to our practice of learning to be present.

Living our values is an ongoing, lifelong inquiry. To be part of that flow requires that we be present. Without our presence we cannot know whether or not we are actually living our values. There can be a world of distance between our stated values and our lived values; between wanting something and choosing something. Values do not live in a vacuum. They must be lived daily; in easy, uncertain and difficult times alike. They must come straight from our hearts and from the clearest places of our minds and right into the living of our lives. And when we find ourselves out of alignment, we must be willing to change course. Without this level of integrity, we will expend too much energy trying to address the daily technology challenges of “if”, “when”, “where” and “how much” for our kids. For too many of us, this is exactly why we say yes when we want to say no; it is just too much effort.

So, practically speaking, how would we begin? First and foremost: What are your family values? If you have not thought about this before, spend some time writing out what you believe is in the best interest of your children and what matters most to you about family life. When in doubt, give it the real life litmus test by asking yourself how and where you spend your time, money and energy. No matter what we might tell our children what our values are, our actions speak louder than our words. Our actions form the fabric of our family life and are what our children listen most closely to.

A wonderful exercise to align with a lifelong inquiry around your values is to develop a question that you can hold. Let your question serve as a way shower, a contemplation, something you can hold beyond right and wrong. Here are a couple of examples around technology and kids: “If I had all the courage, strength and support that I needed to live my family values around how my children use technology, I would or would not…” and “If I was not worried about fitting in or about dealing with an upset child, would I make different choice here around my child’s technology use?” Let this be an unfolding conversation you have with yourself. One that helps you to get clearer and clearer on what matters most to you.

It is no secret that we are in uncharted waters when it comes to the technologies and the imprint they are leaving on young bodies and young minds. It is turning up everywhere. Our children are being exposed at ever younger ages and with increasing frequency. Shouldn’t there be some kind of vetting system for parents? Something that will help us make our way without feeling as though we either have to make this a full time job to figure it all out, or are left needing to turn a blind eye due to the overwhelm of it all.

We need a True North. An orientation. Something that we can refer to in the midst of the sea of changes the technology is bringing. It is impossible to do this on the fly; there are too many choices, pressures, and ever increasing speed around all of this. Where can we stand in the midst of a constantly shifting terrain and still remain clear and firm in what makes sense for our families? What is it that will endure through all of this; lighting our way so that we can make sound decisions on something that is so thoroughly impacting the lives of our children?

It can be summed up as follows: Your presence, the ability to live your values, and the real developmental needs of your children. In this first part, we begin with you and your ability to be present. This can be the most challenging. There are so many demands and distractions. And yet, without your presence, you will not know whether or not you are living up to your values. And you will not know who your child is, or what she needs. Learning to be present requires that you slow down and notice. It asks that you make room for the more subtle interior flows of a child’s unfolding world and of your family’s inner life. In a world big on what is grandiose, overt and dramatic, it can feel as though you are being asked to attune to the mundane, the boring, the insignificant. This could not be further from the truth.

How does one go about learning to be present? In a word, mindfulness. Straight out of the Buddhist traditions and right into the pressing needs of life in the modern world, this ancient practice is all about learning to be present moment to moment without judgment. There is learning involved here. This will take time and practice. And there is the prerequisite of letting go of judging what it is that you notice. To judge is to believe you already have the answer, that you already know all there is to know about something. Judgment keeps us from seeing things as they actually are. And without an open and curious assessment regarding who and what stands before us, we will miss the mark every time in our decisions and in our choices.

Mindfulness opens us up to seeing when we are present to our children and when we are not. The practice helps us discover what it is that keeps us from being where we are, and this may be the most important thing to discover; what it is that keeps you from noticing your life, your child, and how you are living. In that noticing resides the potential for change and for realignment with what matters most. And so, it might look like this: You begin to notice that there are times when you do not feel good about what your child is doing in front of a screen. In the early moments, there is no need to do anything other than to notice what it feels like to be ill at ease in this moment. Maybe there is tension in your body. Maybe you notice the beginnings of an argument about to erupt. Perhaps there is an association that keeps playing through your mind.  Maybe there is something about your child’s behavior that leaves you feeling uneasy. Keep noticing whatever is there. Keep suspending judgment. Be willing to wait. Be willing to be surprised by what reveals itself to you. And then act on that revelation.

This is the first of a three-part series.