I am writing to you on behalf of all the children in the world.

I guess that having my own kids has made me more sensitive to the plight of all the millions of children in this world with less than us; all the millions of children who will live out this day with no food, no shelter, no love. And I cannot help but feel responsible for them all. Each day, as I strive to be a better mother – to be more present, more patient, and to provide for my childrens emotional and physical needs – I trust that my children will grow up to be independent, caring, sensitive and responsible adults. And yet I can't help wondering what the point would be if the world that they grew up in were inhabited by adults, the majority of whom had grown up without these gifts.

What kind of people do children grow up into who spend their childhoods without even the basic necessities for survival? Who grow up loveless and alone? Who grow up believing that the world is a harsh and unfriendly place where one must fight to survive? Do I really want my children growing up in a world where 50% or more of their peers have grown up fighting for basic human rights?

We wonder why we live on a planet where there is so much crime, murder, rape, abuse, pollution and cruelty to animals. But look at how we treat our children. Yes, OUR children. They are all our children, as they are the ones who are shaping our future, and we are, therefore, ALL responsible for the kind of people they grow into. Are we, as a society, as a race, raising loving, responsible, caring individuals, or are we raising tomorrow's criminals?

There is a wonderful organisation here in South Africa called the Starfish Foundation. Their story goes something like this:

A girl is walking along the beach at sunrise. The tide is going out, leaving hundreds of starfish stranded on the beach. As she walks, the girl is picking them up, one by one, and tossing them back into the sea. A man stops her to ask what she is doing.
"The tide is going out", answers the girl, "and the sun is coming up. These starfish will die in the heat of the day, so I am throwing them back into the sea."
The mans looks puzzled and says: "But there are hundreds of them, stretching for miles up the beach – how can you possibly make a difference?"
The girl picks up a starfish and throws it into the ocean and says: "It made a difference to that one."

We can all make a difference, and the change starts with you. If every one of us committed to sharing some of the abundance of love, money, time or possessions that we have been blessed with, this world would immediately begin to improve – for you, for your children and for the future of this planet.

If you feel that you don't have enough to share, just look around. Count your blessings – and then share them. Make a commitment to a better world, to a better future for all of our children, and make it today.

Share this. Let us start a revolution of loving action.

Yes, motherhood is an art. It reminds me of those old Chinese paintings and their careful attention to balance. One must attempt to balance out the Yang (the large foreboding mountains) with the Yin (the gentle trickling stream). Yup, I’m familiar with that – balancing out the Yang (the screaming banshee mom) with the Yin (the sobbing quietly to herself in the corner mom).

One must also pay attention to all elements with the design – to fire, earth, water, metal, and wood. A fine balance indeed – the fiery pot on the stove with tonight’s burned dinner, muddy earth being trampled through the house, the watery flood of the forgotten bath, the sharp metal of your new knife cutting through the furniture, and the woody branch heading for a sibling’s eye. I know aaaaall about the elements!

But is this motherhood really? Is motherhood not the art of giving up the balance occasionally? Is it not sitting on the kitchen floor in the midst of the chaos to hold a small child as they ride out their tantrum?

And is it not, sometimes, in our least balanced moments that a picture starts to emerge? And is it any less beautiful because it got colored in with a pink marker pen? Perhaps it’s time for the Old Masters of Chinese Art to accept a touch of Postmodernism.

Food for thought: Are you the artist, the artwork, or both?

Now the first notion that you need to get right out of your head is that just because you are the older one does not mean that your kids are here to learn from you. It seems likely to me that the exact opposite is actually the case. You have kids because there are vital lessons that you need to learn for your ultimate spiritual progress.

Now imagine for a minute that your little darling – Mike, Anna, Jack, Mary or whatever else you might have decided to call your Zen Master for the duration of your lessons -  is in fact God speaking directly to you. In exchange for the teachings, you are providing the Master with food, shelter and other daily necessities.

Would you give God take-out every night or cook delicious, nutritious meals with love? Would you leave God in front of the TV for most of the day or provide an environment buzzing with creative stimuli? Would you lose your temper every time God gave you a difficult lesson, or would you accept it simply and with grace? Would you presume to tell God exactly what to eat and when, what to wear, how to cut his hair, which friends to hang out with? I hardly think so.

Not that I, by any means, am saying that this is easy. Spiritual lessons seldom are. In fact, just this week my own Zen Masters have given me some pretty harsh lessons in compassion – compassion for myself that is. For when you have worked non stop, cooked, sorted, been available for reading stories and singing songs and all the other hundred things a mother does in the course of her daily tasks, and then been screamed at, had one long tantrum after the next and an uncountable amount of other things designed in pitch and volume to test your patience, one is allowed, sometimes, to crack.  And when you do, and your Zen Masters are looking at you like their student just lost the plot, it is not the time to pile on the self-guilt.

Compassion. It starts with you.

One lesson down, one million, eight hundred thousand and fifty four to go.

I was driving home from preschool with my two young daughters the other day and they were really keen to visit my friend, Melissa. "We can't see Melissa today", I explained, "she's gone to Cape Town to visit her Godmother".
"What's a Godmother?" comes the chorus from the back.
I try to explain. "Well, it is the parents' responsibility to introduce their kids to spiritual ideas and make sure that their spiritual needs are met - like you would ensure that they had food to eat or clothing. Parents appoint Godparents so that if they die there is still someone to ensure that this continues. The Godparents make sure that the kids grow up learning about whatever religion the parents had. So, Christians will choose Christian Godparents, Jews will choose Jewish ones... it all depends on what religion you are."
From my 5-year-old, Kai: "What religion are we?"
"Um... well... I have my own beliefs, but you guys are free to choose any religion that you like."
To which Kai responds: "I want to be Buddha".

You go girl! I couldn't think of a better way to sum up spirituality. It's all very well to choose a religion, but how often are we simply adding a label to our self-image - I am a Christian, I am a Hindu, I am a New-Ager, or whatever. But how many of us actually strive to be Buddha or to be Christ-like?

I think that all too often we have an idea of what a spiritual person "should" be like and we adopt these spiritual "markers" without getting to the essence of what they're supposed to represent. It is easier to "be a vegetarian" than to feel compassion for another living being, it is easier to get rid of all our possessions than to let go of attachment, it is easier to sit in the lotus position for hours than it is to truly be the witness to our minds as we go about the business of life.

Children have such a knack for hitting the proverbial nail on the head, and I think most of this is due to a lack of pretences, and not yet having crushed their belief in themselves to attain the best in life.

Wouldn't the world be a better place if we all had the noble goal of not being Buddhists, but of being Buddha?!