If you want to change the world, go home and love your family. There is so much I can do for my daughter every day to support her journey and make it brimming with love. But for the things I can’t control, I pray.
I want all the beauty and magic of the universe for my little girl. As any parent, I would love to keep her safe from struggle and pain. But I know part of her journey is to face challenges because the light and the dark must coexist for our growth.
Soon after Lea Luna was born, I wrote my intentions and dreams for her as a prayer—one that I’ll come back to every day for the rest of my life.
May she know love. May she be loved.
May she never look in the mirror and think, “I should lose five pounds.” Never ever. May she never feel the urge to hold her stomach in while on the beach in a bikini. May she never diet, or count calories, or obsess over her body. May she never spend even a second staring at herself in the mirror on a treadmill thinking about her weight.
May she turn her face to the sun and her attention to the moment, fully soaking up the warmth of each summer day.
May she move her body only in ways that bring her joy. May she sweat, not to look good, but to feel good.
May she enjoy dessert and all that’s sweet in life. But may she eat to enjoy, not to escape.
May she look in the mirror and see the beauty of her own being, every day. May she set roots anchored so deep within her self-worth that no magazine, tv ad, celebrity, or social media platform will ever make her feel otherwise. May she know her worth, and may she speak it, and uphold others to reflect it back her way.
May she spend more time looking up at the sky than down on a screen. May she get up early to watch the sun rise, and may she never forget to care for the earth as it cares for her.
May she wear whatever she wants, however she wants. May she set her own trends and dress in whatever she deems fit—not to fit in, but because it brings her happiness.
May she do yoga. Or not.
When her mind gets busy, may she stretch and dance and twirl and run to feel her beating heart and remember that life happens where the body goes, not where the mind dwells. May she move her limbs in ways that make her always remember what it’s like to be a child. May she never stop appreciating the feel of bare feet in wet grass.
May she never be afraid to cry when sadness comes.
May she get a dog. Or two (but not more than three).
May she swim naked. May she swim naked every chance she gets. And may she do so throwing her clothes off with abandon, never worrying about the shape of her body, only about the temperature of the water.
May she dance like no one is watching, even when they are watching, and also when they are not. May she move with music the way waves move across the ocean—without giving a damn.
May she fall in love—real love; earth-shattering, mind blowing, makes-your-whole-body-tingle love. The kind that brings you to the edge of your seat. The kind that makes you hold your breath, giddy with anticipation, waiting for the next text message to arrive. And may she know the kind of love that makes you sink deeper into the couch, too. The kind that has you let out an exhale, tired from a long day and waiting for the take-out to arrive, knowing that the person next to you is there to stay. May she know both the fleeting adventure of romance and the lasting beauty of the mundane.
And may she have her heart broken—not all the way, but just enough to learn the art of putting back together what was once shattered.
May she find the balance between holding on and letting go.
May she know pain, but not too much.
May she be safe. Always. May she travel the world. May she learn a new language, or two. May she journey across the far corners of this planet but never forget about home.
And one day, may she have her own daughter. May she hold her close and feel the weight and the lightness of a love unlike any other. And may she whisper in her daughter’s ear her own prayer for her to forever know love and be loved.
The most important thing we can do for our children is be there for them, living by example.
The choices we make in a day are what make up our lives. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it is true that parenting is the single most important role we’ll ever have. So be fully present with your kids. Listen to them. Show them that vulnerability is beautiful. Shower them with enough love that by the time they have their first encounter with a situation that lacks it, they’ll know that the answer is always the same: to love more.
Teach them how to listen by listening to them—not just when it’s easy, but especially when it’s hard. Teach them kindness through being kind. Teach them strength through your own resilience. And most important of all, teach them self-love by loving yourself. Our children intuitively know where there is love and where there is lack.
What are your prayers for the children of this big, beautiful earth? Share them below!