As someone who was born and raised within this culture of Krishna consciousness, and is now a mother to an almost-3-year-old son, I just love this whole section: "Our home has standards—basic etiquette, respect, vegetarianism—but we don’t try to make our children perform a faith that has not yet become their own. Rather, we’ve kept confidence that Kṛṣṇa brought our children to us to love and serve, trusting that, in time, jijñāsu—inquisitiveness—may naturally arise. We also prepared for the possibility that we may never get to see this, but our job is to love and serve them anyway. Turns out, that approach seems to have worked, at least for our seventeen-year-old." It's a beautiful reminder for me that when I was left well enough alone in my spiritual journey, I found my own way in my spiritual life (of course, this didn't quite work for my siblings, but as you said, the parents may "never get to see this" and people have their own journeys). And I appreciate your detachment that yes, our children do have their own journeys and if we never get to see that natural inquisitiveness arise, then so be it. We did our best. There's no such thing as forced spirituality or forced love.
When the kids were really young we helped them to have as much Bhakti experiences as we could. It wasn’t easy for us as they grew into their teens to detach and let them learn and live. We had many sleepless nights worrying about them.
But we didn’t really have a choice if we wanted them to be healthy and independent young men. Krishna looks after everyone and gives according to our desires.
We have another adult son that, when he was a teenager, told me one day that he’d become an atheist. But the same evening he got upset with us for not calling him in for Damodarastakam prayers and offering a ghee lamp like he’d done since he was little.
So I don’t claim to understand how all of this works. I just know that people tend to go where they feel loved.
As someone who was born and raised within this culture of Krishna consciousness, and is now a mother to an almost-3-year-old son, I just love this whole section: "Our home has standards—basic etiquette, respect, vegetarianism—but we don’t try to make our children perform a faith that has not yet become their own. Rather, we’ve kept confidence that Kṛṣṇa brought our children to us to love and serve, trusting that, in time, jijñāsu—inquisitiveness—may naturally arise. We also prepared for the possibility that we may never get to see this, but our job is to love and serve them anyway. Turns out, that approach seems to have worked, at least for our seventeen-year-old." It's a beautiful reminder for me that when I was left well enough alone in my spiritual journey, I found my own way in my spiritual life (of course, this didn't quite work for my siblings, but as you said, the parents may "never get to see this" and people have their own journeys). And I appreciate your detachment that yes, our children do have their own journeys and if we never get to see that natural inquisitiveness arise, then so be it. We did our best. There's no such thing as forced spirituality or forced love.
Forced love …. an oxymoron for toxic morons.
When the kids were really young we helped them to have as much Bhakti experiences as we could. It wasn’t easy for us as they grew into their teens to detach and let them learn and live. We had many sleepless nights worrying about them.
But we didn’t really have a choice if we wanted them to be healthy and independent young men. Krishna looks after everyone and gives according to our desires.
We have another adult son that, when he was a teenager, told me one day that he’d become an atheist. But the same evening he got upset with us for not calling him in for Damodarastakam prayers and offering a ghee lamp like he’d done since he was little.
So I don’t claim to understand how all of this works. I just know that people tend to go where they feel loved.