Children are such a sweet blessing, bringing a much needed pure quality to this World.

When my son was in middle school I had the great honor of meeting his English teacher, who wanted to openly encourage her classes to write their stories from a space of inspiration.

Her and I got talking one day, and I told her that I had an aspect to my holistic practice with meditation, that helped producers, directors, actors and athletes, to access the creative voice and fire of enthusiasm within themselves to reach their goals. She got excited during that conversation, and asked me to be a visitor to her classes, and perhaps reach the children she was so committed to.

When I drove my son home, I told him about the agreement I had with his teacher to return the following week for a guided meditation. He was a bit worried about my impending visit, asking me to please not tell anyone who I was. He preferred me to not share I was his mother until we knew the class I would lead was a success. Initially I would lead the first English literature class and if it went well, the teacher wanted me to stay for the next two, which would then take up the whole morning.

My son was seated at the back of the room in the first class.

I deliberately didn’t look at him.

The teacher introduced me to the class, letting them know I would be leading them in a guided meditation, to inspire writing from them in a different way.

I then introduced the class of 30 children to what I did and how I affected change with celebrities and others. I suggested to them that they get a few pieces of paper and a pencil out ready, place their heads in their arms, so as not to look at anyone else in the room, and allow themselves to be led by the words that flow through me.

I set up my boom box with gentle, background music, and began speaking.

Almost the whole room of children were sat with head in arms, breathing deeply and traveling with the guidance. When we had moved along the visual virtual pathways, I then gently brought them back into the room, inviting them to not speak, and simply write down and express as fully as they could, whatever their experiences had involved. Even if they could not or didn’t want to follow the guidance, I invited them to write about that too.

The whole room was silent, rapidly and furiously writing.

Once they were done, the teacher asked if anyone wished to share. Loads of hands went up.

Some of the shares were really sweet, some expressions shared big challenges, a couple of students shared that they couldn’t travel the pathways, and they found themselves disappointed with their inability to relax enough.

She loved the shares.

She asked me to stay and lead the next two classes, which I happily did.

The classes were full, open and willing to share wholeheartedly.

The uninhibited writings reflected beautiful artful words and scenery that spoke like poetry. It was breathtaking what these young minds were capable of.

When we were complete with all three classes, the teacher asked me to stay and sat tearfully composing herself, as she explained what happened for her.

She tearfully told me that some of her most challenged, abused and troubled students were the ones who had shared the most.

When I stepped outside the classroom, my son proudly introduced me to a couple of his classmates.

It was a very sweet day, and when there’s enough of those, it becomes a very sweet life.

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Love & Blessings,

Ruth

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