Wabi-sabi parenting
For parents all over the world, the global pandemic has unveiled a hard truth: that home life is as vulnerable and imperfect as we are. Balancing work, childcare, household chores and relationships with regular self-care is hard. But sometimes the only way to control the unpredictability and chaos of life is to accept it – with all its flaws, itches and imperfections.
The parenting toll
Sustainability is one of the most pressing issues of our time – and there has never been a harder moment to become a parent. As a generation, millennials are now held responsible not only for the wellbeing of their offspring but also for the condition of the planet: the ultimate source of life, nourishment and prosperity. After all, millennials constitute 82 per cent of all new parents.
In the Deloitte Global Millennial Survey 2019, both millennial and gen Z respondents chose climate change, protecting the environment and natural disasters as the most pressing challenges facing society today. And yes, they know the statistics – having small kids takes a toll on the environment.
According to Sustainability Victoria's website, each day, a flabbergasting 3.75 million disposable nappies are used in Australia and New Zealand. It takes a cup of crude oil to make just one nappy and 150 years for it to break down. What's more, the average family with small kids goes through 156 packets of wet wipes a year – that's approximately 12,000 wipes landing in our landfills or contributing to 'fatbergs', the large congealed masses of fat and waste material that form in sewers.
And then there's just 'more stuff': plastic toys, a ton of clothing and the additional carbon footprint when switching from a kidless hatchback to a 4WD (or worse, having two cars: one for family trips, the other for work travel).
This mental duality – a longing for family and a dream of doing it sustainably – can make for a heavy basket on the millennial parent's economically strained, eco-anxiety ridden back. So how do we become good, conscious parents in these precarious times?
Mindful pause
For me, having kids was a massive spiritual awakening. As the pile of newborn toys, gifts and equipment started to become more of a nuisance than a help, I realised that babies don't need much from our consumerist world. They want love, touch, the music of our voice and the warmth of our skin. They force us to put down our parenting guides and expensive baby gear and invite us to just be. To become more mindful about our relationships with friends and neighbours, more conscious about our footprint, less trusting in big corporations and generally easier on ourselves. After all, a happy and relaxed parent equals a happy and relaxed child, right?
It seems that I'm not alone. Wherever I turn, in real-life scenarios or around the maze of social media, I meet parents willing to ditch old patterns of high-standard parenting: full of busy schedules, genius-inducing plastic toys and harsh judgements. These parents are proud to call themselves vulnerable and imperfect, yet, at the same time, they inspire me with their compassionate and responsible approach to raising children.
Just as retro wooden toys made a comeback, old-school, 'low-standard' parenting promises more authentic conversations about emotions, tears, death and happiness. In 2018, UK brand agency SCB Partners wrote that "non-traditional, honest and ultra-informed" millennial parents were "disrupting the way society and brands address families".
Into wabi-sabi parenting
I like to associate this new way of parenting with the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, which celebrates the beauty of the imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. When we unpack the word wabi-sabi, we learn that 'wabi' means simplicity and poverty, and 'sabi' refers to the natural progression of time.
The roots of wabi-sabi stem from the ancient practice of kintsugi – mending broken objects with lacquer and gold. If someone's cup or mug breaks, the Japanese don't dispose of it but get it repaired and proudly display the 'scars'.
In his 1933 essay In Praise of Shadows, the great Japanese novelist Tanizaki Jun'ichirō explains this fascination: "We love things that bear the marks of grime, soot, and weather, and we love the colours and the sheen that call to mind the past that made them."
In parenting, wabi-sabi can become an ode to imperfection: to frugal, simple, natural, easy and sustainable ways of navigating family life. How freeing would it be to put the brakes on hustling, to eat simple pasta for dinner three days in a row, and to refrain from tidying the toys after playtime? Slowing down means releasing time and energy for simple, homely things: board games, cuddles in bed, gardening on the balcony, baking cookies and going for long walks.
Embracing imperfection means accepting the chaos of having small kids as just one of the seasons of life. Parenthood is not a season of perfection, but a time for pausing, wearing mismatched socks and less makeup, having cold coffee and buckets of sloppy kisses.
An imperfect parent is a present, conscious parent who knows how to make their child feel appreciated for who they are. This self-worth, in turn, is the biggest gift we can give them.
The kids are alright
"Mama, I want to grow super big to save all the birds and koalas," my four-year-old son announced recently. A few weeks earlier, he scolded an older passer-by for throwing away a lit cigarette. In his daycare, the kids recycle, compost and talk about climate change. It has made him a fierce animal protector and nature lover.
Some reports already state that generation Alpha (born between 2010-2025) is a compassionate cohort. According to a 2019 report from UK consultancy Wunderman Thompson Commerce, which interviewed 4,000 British and American children aged 6 to 16, Alphas value family and care for the environment. Over 65 per cent claim they want to only buy from companies that do good in the world.
Despite their young age, these digital natives are also quite career-focused, with 67 per cent of 6 to 9-year-olds saying they want jobs that will help them save the planet. Over half envisioned getting a job where they can use technology to make change happen.
In 2020, the first of the Alphas are turning 10. While still barely teenagers, they have been watching their older gen Z siblings at the forefront of global climate strikes. Late in December 2019, the media showed the crying face of 13-year-old schoolgirl Izzy Raj-Seppings, who protested with her surfer father outside Kirribilli House, the prime minister's Sydney residence. She was in distress as the policeman told her she might get arrested but bravely stayed on, adding: "I think my father would have preferred to go surfing."
Throughout Australia and the world, youth activism is on the rise. Our children may be an inspiration for change, but they still need our support. The beauty of imperfection – in parenting, art or any endeavour – lies in letting go of ideas around who we are supposed to be. If our future depends on the wisdom and courage of our children, the best thing we can do is listen to them and act accordingly.
This story was first published in Matters Journal, Issue 4