from the newly released How to Raise an Indigo Child


Most mornings Ki and I spend together, greeting the new day, talking and learning. We may read a chapter from Abe Lincoln’s biography or clean the aquarium or do a mudra and sing a song. On this particular morning, Kiah was waiting for Carrie, one of his teachers, to arrive at 10:30 a.m. Needing to ask me about a flyer for Dr. Laurel Clark’s new book Karmic Healing, it was Paul Blosser who came upstairs.
Paul had been away, and when Ki saw him he decided he wanted to be with him. Hezekiah was five years old at the time. When he had his head set on something you could reason with him, but when his heart was set, reason would not sway him. His heart was set on being with Paul.
Ki was generous about it. “I can play with Paul and Carrie!” His bright smile reflected his pleasure in figuring this out.
Paul said, “Can we play a little later?”
Living in the eternal now, Ki said adamantly, “No, now!”
Many thoughts flooded my mind – calming Ki, wanting him to be interested in what others do thus grow compassion, the need to respond so Paul would be more at ease, also the desire to resolve the reaction before Carrie came. “First,” I said, “Carrie is probably on her way right now. She’s planning to play with you. Paul told you he will play later.”
Ki wasn’t budging.
“Hezekiah, Paul came up to show mommy something.”
He could stretch to realize the truth of this. “Okay,” he replied in that Indigo royal tone. “Half an hour.” I had to smile because this was a new development.
The idea of physical time was relatively new to Hezekiah. I had been very conscious about how I thought about time and how I taught it to Ki. I had learned early that he only respected the present. For him there was no yesterday or tomorrow, only now. I relished the reality of that be-here-now consciousness, refining my own ability to experience its depth with each experience we shared.
The richness of being fully present connected us in ways I had experienced with students of all ages many times. The dimension Ki added for me was the immediate awareness of when my mind would wander. Every time I found myself out of time and space, more often thinking about things I wanted to do - books to write, sessions to plan, classes to teach, conversations to have - than things that had already happened, Ki would reflect it back to me. Sometimes through constant questioning, at others through insistence, often through emotional displays of frustration or anger.
Over time I sifted through my every reaction from “I should be able to soothe my child” to “You’re making my head hurt” to “Others will think I’m a bad mother” and everything in between. Past all the busy mindedness of a brain full of television plots and very old memories, both fodder for an overactive imagination, I found the reward of countless practices in concentration: the still mind. When my mind was fully in the present, Ki and I had a great time exploring what was at hand. Whether reading, singing, investigating a rotten log or building a tunnel, doors opened to learning for Ki and me as long as Mommy was present.
My understanding of the separation of past, present, and future was multiplied. And what I would now consciously, intentionally teach this child would be very different because of it. I was now in less of a rush to teach him to wait, to put things off until another time. I could see why insistence of this kind is often met with resistance from any child. Why? Because it denies the natural movement of consciousness. It interrupts the complete expression of thought. That’s why Hezekiah, and me and just about every young child I have ever seen, rejects the out-of-sync ideas adults advocate. Adults live in a fragmented world of separation. This counters the workings of the inner mind. It is unnatural.
Scattered attention is taught and reinforced throughout our lives. We continue to do what we have seen and learned from others throughout our lives. We try to think of three, four, five things at the same time, even value and boast of our ability to do so, until we wake up!
In large part undivided attention is the experience of the Indigo child. Their concentration powers far exceed most of the adults in their world. Their laser attention is so quick, so incisive, so pure, that a scattered mind can only reach it by altering it. The means to alter is often mind-controlling drugs. No one likes to think about this, much less talk about it, but ignoring it, being unconscious about it, does not change the truth.
We must learn new ways of responding to these children, our own children and grandchildren, better ways than putting them to sleep.
I want to be an awake parent. I want to help all children remain awake, using every day to become more Self aware. I want to aid others to do the same. This is why I teach adults the principles of Universal Law and how to apply these principles through life. This is why I have written this book, to share the experiences of teachers of metaphysics for the enrichment of your own experience.
It is our hope that what we are learning and how we are responding to the children around us will prove valuable for you and the children in your life.

–Barbara Condron
August, 2002

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