I first stumbled upon Kahlil Gibran’s poem, “On Children,” during my teenage years. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but I vividly remember my father reciting, “Your children are not your children,” with a touch of nostalgia. Perhaps he was grappling with the reality of us growing up. Whatever the reason, those words lingered in my mind.
Fast forward over two decades and three kids later, I find myself revisiting Gibran’s wisdom through the lens of motherhood. With my eldest now 16, I’m struck by the profound insight of a man who never parented.
Normally, I’m skeptical of advice from those without kids, but this poem transcends that skepticism. Maybe his lack of children allowed him to grasp an objective truth that’s difficult to see amidst the daily chaos of parenting.
Reflections on “On Children”
As I reflect on “On Children,” I’m reminded:
Your kids are not really your kids.
They are the offspring of Life’s desire to experience itself.
They come through you, but they do not stem from you,
And though they are present with you, they do not belong to you.
Ouch. Right from the start, Gibran strikes a nerve. This line resonates deeply with parents who feel an instinctual, emotional bond with their children. We may have chosen to bring them into this world, but do we really “own” them?
We are merely the vessels through which they enter this life. Their identities are shaped by forces beyond our control—be it God, nature, or simply Life’s yearning for itself.
You can offer them your love, but not your beliefs,
For they possess their own thoughts.
You may shelter their bodies, but not their spirits,
For their souls dwell in the tomorrow that you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
This realization hits hard; our children are distinct individuals, on paths we can’t fully comprehend. Their futures are shrouded in mystery, and we can only provide them with the tools to navigate an unknown world.
You may strive to mirror them,
but do not seek to make them mirror you.
For life does not move backward nor linger in the past.
As parents, we grasp the relentless passage of time better than anyone. There’s no stopping it, and despite our wishes, we cannot rewind it. Time rolls on, and we advance with it.
It’s tempting to imprint our dreams onto our children, but they have their own journeys to undertake, separate from ours. Our destinies intertwine, yet they remain distinct.
You are the bows from which your children,
like live arrows, are sent forth.
The archer has a vision of the infinite path,
and He bends you with His strength so His arrows may soar swiftly and far.
I feel this bending, especially as my eldest prepares to take flight. This is likely why many say parenting never gets easier. The closer we get to letting our kids venture into the world, the more we must stretch ourselves. This stretching is painful, but it’s a necessary part of their journey.
Let your bending in the archer’s hands be a source of joy;
For just as He cherishes the arrow that flies,
He also cherishes the bow that remains steadfast.
What a beautiful reminder to find happiness amid the pain, knowing that both we and our children are loved by the Divine. We must remain strong, as our stability is crucial for them to soar.
Our children—those unique beings we’re privileged to share a chapter of life with—will help advance humanity in ways we may never witness. They are not truly ours, but rather part of a greater purpose.