What matter, then, the storms of children?

For all those living with two, three, four, five, six, and/or maybe even seven-year olds tantrums, here is one thing you can do and one thing you can hold onto:

The whirlwind's spent before the morning ends;
The storm will pass before the day is done.
Who made them, wind and storm? Heaven and earth.
If heaven itself cannot storm for long,
What matter, then, the storms of man?

From stanza 23 from Moss Roberts' translation of the Tao De Jing:

Comments

[Emily]

I feel like that when I have gotten them bathed and PJed and we sit quietly reading books.

[twosquaremeals]

Lovely dose of perspective. I love the moments when I can remember that.

[Mizmell]

Tantrums? It's been far too many years to remember the adolescent kind--we're well into adulthood--nowadays they have variable forms and durations.

[Valle]

Just wondering if anyone has studied the correlation between toddlers who have fairly major tantrums, and teens who have, well, fairly major fits of teenage-ness...I see a connection between the two, now that my former tantrumer is 15. I guess their emotional systems are wired a certain way, and that makes them respond to stress, uncertainty, insecurity, etc. in an over-the-top kind of way. That's my theory anyway, and having lived through the tantrum years, I can see beyond the storm, and be assured that calm will be restored.

[slouching mom]

that's a lovely poem, thank you.

[Mrs. G.]

My kids' tantrum days are mostly over, but the fact is this wisdom applies to many areas of life...especially marriage.

[jen]

i like special times in the midst of three year old storms.

[(un)relaxeddad]

I'm reading it all over again. On another track entirely, I've just started a more distressing (but personally necessary-to-address) book about the Zen Buddhist leadership's complicity in Japan's militarism during the Meiji era.