The Doctrine of the Mean

One More Try

There is something you want to do.
Climb all the way to the top.
But your arms are still little.
You cannot do it yet.

You reach up. You pull hard.
You slip back down.
That is okay.
So you take a breath and say:

One more try.

You reach again. You pull again.
A little bit higher this time.
Your arms are getting stronger.
You can feel it.

Down you come. Still not the top.
That is okay too.
Take a breath.

One more try.

Your friend got up on the first go.
You need ten goes. Maybe more.
That is okay.
You just keep going.

Some days you do not get there.
But every single try
makes your arms a little stronger.
Today you reach higher than yesterday.

So when something is hard,
take a big breath, and…

One more try.

Say it with me: one more try.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This comes from The Doctrine of the Mean, an old Chinese classic: if another person succeeds in one effort, use a hundred, and though weak you will grow strong. The promise is strength from steady effort, not winning or reaching the top, so praise the trying itself on the days the top stays out of reach.

Not Too Big, Not Too Small

Sometimes a feeling comes.
A big mad feeling.
Your face gets hot.
Your hands squeeze tight.

Mad is okay.
Sad is okay.
Happy is okay too.
Feelings come to everybody.

Here is the trick.
Let the feeling out the right size.

Not too big. Not too small.

Too big is a shout.
Too big is a kick.
Then somebody gets hurt.

Too small is hiding it.
You squash it way down.
It sits inside and aches.

Too big hurts. Too small hurts.
Just right helps.

Just right is using your words.
You tell them you are mad.
You tell them why.

Not too big. Not too small.

Before a feeling comes,
there is a calm, still place inside.
Like a pond with no wind.
You can go back there.

So when a big feeling comes,
take a slow breath.
Find your words.
Let it out the right size.

Not too big. Not too small.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: The Doctrine of the Mean opens with this: before joy, anger, sorrow or pleasure stir, the mind is level, and when they stir in their due degree, that is harmony. It asks for feelings in the right measure, never for no feelings. The book goes on to say the order of heaven and earth rests on this balance; that bigger claim is its own and is best left out of the lesson.

If I Don’t Like It

Somebody pushes in line.
You do not like that.

Somebody laughs at your drawing.
You do not like that either.

Somebody grabs your snack.
Not one bit.

Remember how that felt?
Hot and sad inside.
Other kids feel that too.

Here is a rule to keep.

If I don’t like it, I won’t do it.

Now it is snack time again.
Your friend has a cookie.
Your hands want to grab it.

Stop. Think.
Would I like that?
No. So I won’t.

If I don’t like it, I won’t do it.

Even if they did it first.
Even if no grown-up is looking.

You can still say stop.
You can still say no.
The rule is about what you do.

So next time your hands want to grab,
stop, think, and choose.

If I don’t like it, I won’t do it.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This is The Doctrine of the Mean’s golden rule, and it is the negative form: what you do not like done to yourself, do not do to others. The “do unto others” wording belongs to another tradition. The rule governs the child’s own actions; it does not ask them to accept being pushed or grabbed, so keep the beat about saying stop.

What Can I Change?

You throw the beanbag.
It lands by the bucket.
Not in. You missed.

You could say, the bucket moved!
You could say, my brother bumped me!

Or you could look at your throw.
Was it too hard?
Was it too soft?

What can I change?

Missing is not bad.
Everybody misses.
Looking at your throw is not blaming you.
It is finding the fix.

You throw again, a little softer.
Plop. Closer this time.

You look again.
A tiny bit softer still.
Closer and closer.

What can I change?

The bucket cannot fix your throw.
Only you can.
That is good news.
It means the fixing is in your hands.

So pick up the beanbag.
Look at your last throw.
Change one thing.
Throw.

What can I change?

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: In The Doctrine of the Mean, when the archer misses the center of the target, he looks for the cause of his failure in himself. The beanbag stands in for the bow. The lesson is to look at your own throw first, not that every miss is the child’s fault; when someone really did bump them, say so.