As a child who grew up in the 60’s and 70’s I am no stranger to the concept of protest. Folk songs and books were written; peaceful (as well as some not-so-peaceful) marches were organized. A counter-culture was born, arguably at a time when it was very much needed. Protesting can be beneficial. When something is wrong, it needs to be called out rather than blindly following an unfair status quo. That being said, putting all one’s energy into protesting what we don’t want has a definite downside. Love and hate are close cousins. Both are rooted in passion—they are just aimed in different directions. When you pour your energy and passion into something, you energize it. Therefore, if for example, you hate conflict, ironically, you end up giving it more power. It’s an oxymoron, fighting for peace. It’s fighting fire with fire, or perhaps with gasoline. One might as well scream for silence.
My daughter’s life passion is the love of children, especially infants. After her last baby was born, she was thrilled to land a job as an infant teacher where she could cuddle and care for these little beings all day. She was allowed to bring her own small children as well; thus this job was the perfect fit for her. But then the needs of her employer changed. They moved her from the infants’ room to the toddlers’ room where she was called upon to chase after and care for toddlers all day. At first she was very disappointed and upset since toddlers are so much work. They are definitely high maintenance, mainly because they are mobile—an understatement, to say the least. Caring for these active little beings is like herding kittens, only toddlers weigh a lot more than kittens! It is both a physically and emotionally demanding job.
A few weeks later, I was pleased to see the smile back on my daughter’s face. In fact, she was practically beaming. I asked her if she had been able to return to the infants’ room, but she