The Richness of the Mundane

BERKELEY HEIGHTS, NJ: There is richness in the mundane that will never be discovered if we cover it up with extravagance.

A few years ago, a friend of mine was relating a conversation he had with his teenage daughter.

She asked her father what he thought would be a good career for her.

In a somewhat tongue-in-cheek answer that smacked of a harsh reality, he replied:

"If you want to live like we do in this town, then you're going to have to become an investment banker."

By no means does my friend live an extravagant lifestyle.

He's a successful realist who values his tight-knit family and friends dearly.

But his answer left me thinking about a larger question:

What does the child who grows up enjoying all the spices of life eventually strive for during their years of independence?

Children Aren't Born Knowing What's Extravagant

Just this past week, I was talking to another friend who happened to be part of that original conversation.

He was discussing how expensive New Jersey has become and how glad he is that his children don't seem particularly concerned with the dollar value of their vacations.

I'm the godfather to his son, so I've watched some of this myself.

The kids simply love going away together as a family.

It could be a weekend visiting friends in Delaware or a trip all the way to the Philippines, where his wife's family is from.

The destination certainly changes.

The enjoyment of being together doesn't seem to.

And that's when our friend's story about his teenage daughter came back to us.

Children aren't born knowing which experiences are supposed to be impressive.

We teach them that.

When Does Giving More Become Too Much?

Parents work hard to provide for their children.

And sometimes that work requires spending time away from them.

That's when a difficult possibility creeps in:

What if all of that hard work, combined with the guilt of being away from our children, becomes a trap of compensation?

We miss time with them.

We feel guilty.

So we try to make the time we do have bigger.

Better.

More exciting.

More memorable.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to give our children wonderful experiences.

But there may be a point where continually increasing the extravagance changes the child's expectations.

Something that was once extraordinary becomes normal.

And once extraordinary becomes normal, everything ordinary risks becoming subpar.

Children Need to Learn How to Enjoy Ordinary Life

That's where I think the problem becomes less about money and more about perspective.

Most of life isn't a vacation.

It isn't a birthday.

It isn't Christmas morning.

It isn't a new car, an exotic destination, a championship or some carefully planned unforgettable experience.

Most of life is considerably more ordinary.

Dinner with the family.

Talking in the car.

Walking the dog.

Playing with friends.

Practicing something you're not particularly good at yet.

Reading.

Working.

Cleaning.

Sitting around doing absolutely nothing remarkable.

If children learn that happiness requires constant stimulation, novelty or extravagance, ordinary life can become awfully difficult to appreciate.

And ordinary life is where they're going to spend most of their time.

Appreciation Can Be Lost When Everything Becomes Expected

The more ubiquitous the extravagance, the more easily it becomes expected.

That's true for adults too.

The first time we experience something special, we're amazed.

The tenth time, perhaps a little less.

Eventually, what was once a privilege can begin to feel like the minimum acceptable standard.

That creates a difficult problem for children as they become adults.

They may discover that they can't immediately replicate the lifestyle or experiences they enjoyed growing up.

Or they may spend enormous amounts of energy trying to recreate a childhood standard they never had to build for themselves.

Neither outcome is inevitable.

But I think it's worth asking ourselves occasionally:

Are we giving our children something to appreciate, or something they're learning to expect?

There's an important difference.

“You Don't Feed Lobster to a Baby”

My mentor used to caution me:

"You don't feed lobster to a baby."

He usually said it when students were cajoling us to give them more information than they could chew in one class.

"Less is more," he'd follow up.

His point was that without a strong foundation, it doesn't matter how intricate or beautiful the ornament adorning the roof may be.

If the foundation can't support it, eventually the whole thing comes down.

That's true in martial arts.

A student doesn't need the most sophisticated technique before they've learned the basic one.

They don't need twenty answers when they haven't practiced the first.

More information isn't necessarily better information.

And perhaps children don't always need the biggest experience available either.

Sometimes they need enough space to discover the value of the smaller one.

Less Can Sometimes Teach Us More

This doesn't mean withholding good experiences from children.

Take the vacation.

Celebrate the birthday.

Buy something special when you want to.

Give children experiences they'll remember for the rest of their lives.

But don't underestimate the value of everything that happens in between.

Because there's something children can learn from an ordinary afternoon that can't necessarily be purchased with a more extraordinary one:

How to create enjoyment instead of always waiting for enjoyment to be provided.

That's a form of independence too.

If happiness always requires something bigger, newer or more impressive, then happiness becomes dependent upon circumstances.

But if a child can find satisfaction in friendship, family, effort, curiosity, conversation and the countless ordinary experiences that fill everyday life, they carry more of that happiness with them.

Build the Foundation Before Decorating the Roof

My mentor was talking about martial arts when he told me not to feed lobster to a baby.

But I've come to think the lesson travels pretty well.

Give children a foundation first.

Let them develop appreciation.

Let them experience anticipation.

Let them become bored occasionally.

Let them discover things for themselves.

Let ordinary experiences remain valuable.

There will be plenty of time for lobster.

May we all have children who can find joy in the mundane and build a foundation of happiness from which they can spring toward greater heights of their own choosing.