There’s an art to speaking harsh truths in a delicate way. There’s an art in describing a ridiculous person or thing without being insulting. Mark Twain was a master at it. Read up!
So many young adults (and older one too) suffer from a lack of direction, living life without a sense of purpose.
______Here’s my advice: **Do what you love**. ____If you don’t know what that is yet (totally okay) then *go where you’re needed.**___ Make yourself USEFUL doing some sort of work that makes the world (or your family or your community or your country) a better place. Please don’t sit around playing video games or goofing off. That will make you miserable! ___ AND it’s a waste of God’s work (you.) Get busy. _____Stay involved in anything you care about deeply, or that needs you desperately. It will feed your soul and open all kinds of doors.
Go for walks together as a family before or after dinner. Sometimes we go for distance, sometimes we call them "safaris" and look for as many living creatures as we can find.
Curate a presentation on heartbreak. Talk about heartbreaks endured by people we know, fictional characters, historical figures, etc. Point is to normalize it, prepare them for it and teach them that they will come out the other side.
That uneasy, uncomfortable or even downright painful feeling you get when you’re faced with something that challenges you ... resist the urge to run away from it. Take a breath and just sit with it for a minute. That feeling you’re feeling is growth. Growth always hurts a little bit. Give yourself a beat to get adjusted before you decide if you want to stay or turn back.
“Your goals will kick you in the shins and steal your lunch money.” -Jon Acuff. You have to fight back, even though some days you lose. Failure is part of the process. Keep going.
Never follow an “I love you” with a “but...” Instead, follow it with “and...” or “that’s why...” Remember this when they’re young, teach it to them when they’re older.
I wish you had known my father he was such a good man gentle and loving. One early memory I have of him is that one night in our neighborhood I was hit by a bike - a boy was riding his bike and road up on the sidewalk and ran right into me. The bike hit me in the face with the handlebars and I was knocked down before I knew what happened. My father scooped me up and carried me back home. I was crying the whole time. the funny thing is I don't remember the pain, but I very clearly remember being in his arms and hearing the clip clop clip clop of his shoes. It was an after dinner walk - he was still in his suit from work and he had his loafers on and made a clip clop on the sidewalk I will never forget the feeling of being carried in his arms as he hurried back to the house to take care of me. I was in pain but I knew I would be OK.
I miss him very much and I wish you knew him.
“There’s a part of me that’s a part of you” said a painter whose name I can’t remember. I don’t think he was talking to anyone in particular, or if he meant we’re all a part of each other. Either way, it’s a beautiful thought.
Never make someone feel bad for liking something. Not your kids, your friends or colleagues. Joy is a beautiful thing. Cherish it in yourself and in others.
Honesty without kindness is brutality. Kindness without honesty is manipulation. (That said, when anyone asks if that outfit makes them look fat, the answer is “you look perfect.”)
Check your ego and question your motives. Are you in it for the right reasons or because of how it would look if you weren’t? Do you feel like you need to be a hero or the smartest one in the room? If the answer is yes I would strongly recommend that you get right with yourself.