trusting the pull

Hello Beautiful Soul,

If you've been following along with this Heartstrings series, you've probably noticed a theme.

Children are constantly showing us who they are.

Through their interests.

Through their questions.

Through their passions.

Through the things they love.

Through the things they can't stop wondering about.

Through the activities they return to again and again.

The challenge is not noticing the heartstrings.

The challenge is trusting them.

Trust is difficult because the heart rarely gives us the entire map.

It offers a direction.

A pull.

A curiosity.

A next step.

But it rarely tells us where it all leads.

A child who loves drawing at six is not handed a blueprint for their future.

A child who spends hours building forts is not told how those experiences will shape them.

A teenager fascinated by photography, music, animals, history, nature, mechanics, cooking, or storytelling cannot possibly know how those interests will weave themselves into their life.

The heart doesn't work that way.

It simply says:

This matters.

Come a little closer.

Explore this.

Learn more.

Pay attention.

As parents, this uncertainty can feel uncomfortable.

We want guarantees.

We want to know that our children will be successful.

We want reassurance that they are on the right path.

We want to know that the time they spend pursuing their interests will somehow pay off.

But life doesn't often offer those kinds of promises.

Instead, it offers something else.

Clues.

When we look back on our own lives, we can often see how seemingly unrelated experiences connected in ways we never could have predicted.

The books we loved.

The people who inspired us.

The hobbies we pursued.

The struggles we endured.

The skills we developed.

The passions we followed.

At the time, they may have seemed disconnected.

But years later, we can often see the thread that was quietly weaving them together.

Children deserve the same opportunity.

They deserve the freedom to explore before they know where exploration will lead.

They deserve the freedom to become before they decide who they are.

They deserve the freedom to follow curiosity without constantly being asked what it will amount to.

Sometimes we forget that childhood is not preparation for life.

Childhood is life.

The purpose of a child's interests is not simply to produce a future outcome.

The purpose is the experience itself.

The learning.

The growth.

The joy.

The discovery.

The becoming.

This is where trust enters the picture.

Trust does not mean becoming passive.

Trust does not mean removing all guidance.

Trust does not mean believing that every choice a child makes is perfect.

Trust means recognizing that there is wisdom within the child.

It means understanding that curiosity serves a purpose.

It means believing that interests matter.

It means allowing children to develop a relationship with their own inner guidance.

And perhaps most importantly, trust means letting go of the idea that we know exactly how their story should unfold.

The older I get, the more I realize that much of parenting is learning to stand beside mystery.

We are given these incredible human beings.

We guide them.

We love them.

We support them.

We protect them.

And then, little by little, we learn to trust what is emerging within them.

Not because we know where it leads.

But because we trust the source from which it comes.

The heartstrings.

Those invisible pulls toward what is meaningful, life-giving, and true.

Perhaps that is the invitation for all of us.

Not only to trust our children's heartstrings, but to trust our own.

To notice what pulls at us.

To pay attention to what keeps returning.

To honor what sparks curiosity and aliveness.

To take the next step, even when we cannot see the entire path.

Because the heart has never required us to know the destination.

It has only ever asked us to trust the pull.

With Love,

Maria