The 5 Best Exploration Tools for Moms of Teens

My 22 y/o has been taking a year off from university and living with me this past winter. One of their little pleasures is going to the beach and collecting sea glass, and I’ve kind of gotten into it too.

There’s something relaxing about digging down through the rocks, layer by layer, to the gravel and sand. Your fingers are wet and dirty, and cold. You wonder if this is the right place, if it’s worth digging.

And then… a little glint catches your eye.

The twinge of excitement, then determination.

A moment later, it’s there in your hand, a translucent traveler of maybe thousands of kilometers, worn smooth by the rhythm of the waves.

So beautiful. 

It’s like that, too, when we’re becoming more and more awake to who we are. We recognize something, a source of discomfort, a place where we keep getting stuck. We get curious and take a closer look. Why am I always blowing up at him? Why do her words hurt my heart so disproportionately? Why does that phrase spark so much fear in me?

We go looking…

But we’re not looking for faults; we’re looking for our inner treasures, like pieces of sea glass, unique, colourful and exquisite.

And then, we’ve got it. We hold it up to the light, gratified, delighted in what we’ve discovered. Our perspective is broadened, like blinders taken off: Oh, now I see how my anger was triggered… Yes, I’ve been making assumptions about what she means… A-ha, when I heard that phrase as a kid, it signaled…We see more. 

And isn’t it so weird and beautiful that our mess and our treasure live in the same ground?That delving into our anger reveals our truth?That under those layers of shame lies our passion?That in that matrix of “I have to keep them happy” is the ability to tend to our own happiness?That scraping down to the bedrock of our anxiety is the key to soothing it? 

Of course, sea-glass hunting only requires one’s eyes and hands. But when we dig for our own inner truths and treasures, we must do so with care and with the right tools. Tools I’ve learned from elders, professors, mentors and guides. Tools that gently brush away the twigs and seaweed, brush away the old stories, habits and impulses, and reveal what’s been there all along, waiting for us to bring it into the light.

The mess is where you find your gems, the blue, green and amber bits that sparkle. Your clear center. Your ability to stay calm when your teenager is anxious. Your capacity for separating your emotions from theirs. Your willingness to give them the space to become who they’re becoming, to trust, and be truly present with them.

Your mess is sacred and precious. It holds your truths, your healing and your wholeness.  

THE BEST DIGGING TOOLS FOR MOMS of TEENS

Curiosity. Asking the simple questions: What if it’s not how I’m imagining it? What am I assuming? What stories have I been telling myself for way too long?

Willingness to get dirty. Change is awkward, there’s no two ways about it. When you’re willing to feel uncomfortable, hurt and lost for a while, new wisdom arrives.

Asking for help. Don’t go looking for an excavator; you want human hands to gently move the sand and gravel, one layer at a time, so the sea glass can catch the light. You want a carefully titrated process that gives you a balance of “Oof, this is challenging,” “Ooh, this is exciting” and “Ahh, this feels just right.”

Trust. Having faith in yourself (and engaging it). Putting your trust in your guides and angels. Actively leaning into the mystery and alchemy. Allowing yourself to be held by something within you and something beyond.

Valuing the relationship you build with yourself. Because this is the primary source of your relationship with your kids. The way you treat yourself, talk to yourself, nurture, heal and enjoy yourself is the bedrock your relationship’s standing on.

WHY THIS MATTERS FOR MOTHERS

Without self-knowledge, our false beliefs will quietly run the show. Beliefs like, “I have to fix this, I have to have control, I have to know the right answers”, keep us cut off from the richness of our own inner landscape and creating the relationships we really want to have. If we’re not noticing what we’re thinking or asking what beliefs and assumptions prompted us to respond in a certain way, we’re just perpetuating patterns.

If we’re not awake to ourselves, then we forget the inner strengths we can draw from, the body that can carry us and the spirits that support us.

When we lose access to these things, our old wounds and insecurities hop into the driver’s seat and our old auto-pilot reflexes kick in. We over-react, try to control them, get butt hurt, lash out, panic…

We project onto them what’s really ours. We make them the problem instead of owning our triggers. 

We create distance.

And they feel it.

They sense that we’re not as approachable and reliable as we say we are. They know in their guts that, since we’re not holding space for ourselves, there’s a good chance that we can’t really hold space for them either. 

What does holding space for yourself mean?

Self-compassion, I think.

Deep self-compassion that fuels our compassion for others, especially our almost-adult kids.

The kind of self-compassion that comes from self-exploration, pushing sand aside and seeking your bright bits down below. From recognizing and soothing the parts of you that need to be loved. And from continually making peace with all of your Self. That’s what empowers your kids to live at peace with themselves.

We stop pretending we’re perfect and work with our gravelly edges — right there in front of them — and that gives them permission to embrace their imperfection too.

We stop pretending we’re fearless and that gives them space to face all those fears of how they’re going to endure adolescence and step out into the crazy world.

We stop expecting them to be who we hoped they’d be and send a crystal clear message that they are ok how they are. Not just words, but tangible acts of acceptance when things are different than we’d imagined.

We let them see us as the real humans we are — the patterns we’re untangling ourselves from, the beliefs we inherited, the urges we feel to defend ourselves, run, or numb out/ We show them that they don’t have to abandon themselves, ignore their instincts, let people trample their boundaries or sacrifice their integrity to belong.

We share our truth. We claim the room for our unique story in our families and communities. And they learn that there’s room for theirs as well. 

You and I know that raising the next generation is one of the most rigorous developmental paths one can ever take. And I’m 100% sure that the effort we put into uncovering our own inner treasures is not separate from healing our communities and nations. Each delicate shard you hold up to the light is part of our collective growth.

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