Great things begin with tiny gestures.
In 1955, in Montgomery, Alabama, Rosa Parks refused to surrender her bus seat, which launched a nationwide movement to end racial segregation of public facilities. In 1632, Emperor Shah Jahan’s great love for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, honed the first block of marble that would become the Taj Mahal. And more than six hundred years ago, small seeds that fell upon the forest floor of Northern California would become the giant redwoods of Muir Woods. Indeed, great things do begin with tiny gestures. So it is with Heaven on Earth.
When I became a parent, nearly nineteen years ago, I dreamed only of great things for my children. I wished for them to be an active part of a better world. I wanted to empower them to co-create whatever that world looked like.
But how could I cultivate such an impact on these small beings? Where would I start?
With the small things, I realized. I could cultivate seeds of change in the world by planting them in the minds and hearts of my three young sons, who would one day be young men, asserting their influences on the world.
While I cultivated their palettes with things like Indian Chicken Tikka Masala, Japanese Unagi and Filipino Halo Halo, I cultivated their minds with questions like, “What does a good day look like?” and then added, “How does your good day impact others?”
I was dropping a pebble into their ponds, then pointing out the ripples. No experience stands isolated. This was how I explained connectivity. My three boys, my husband and myself were connected, not just with each other, but with all of the rest of the world.
“Okay, so now what?” they asked. Now they had to choose to invite their good day. This was the part that required conscious co-creating. It wasn’t enough to just hope for the best, or always look back at the days or weeks in hindsight. Their job was to thoughtfully invite the good into their lives. I wanted them to listen to the desires of their hearts, in addition to their heads, and visualize the possibility of each “best day.”
There weren’t always best days. In fact, some days were downright dreadful. Wading through a tank of bull sharks would have been, at times, less deadly than the hallowed halls of middle school. But we always tried to find the wisdom within the situation. That was my gift of Heaven on Earth to my children. I wanted them to see the beauty, even in the ugly. If they could do that, then they would naturally begin creating their own versions of Heaven on Earth.
My kids, well not such kids anymore, now understand that if enough people create Heaven on Earth, the positive effects will reach every corner of the planet. The intentional co-creation of a few reaps benefits for the many. By beginning the conversation of Heaven on Earth with them from a young age, it’s become an intrinsic part of their beings.
As I prepare to lose the first of my three to college, a part of me aches at inevitable feelings of loss, but the other part of me leaps with joy at the magnificent Heaven on Earth that he’s about to dream forth.
Martin Rutte
