Although it may be impossible to nail things down exactly, still I am grateful for the upbringing my children gave me. The three of them are all at home just now and I realize in their jostling and flow ...
Realize what? ...
I'm not exactly sure, but I am grateful.
Parents, assuming they like their children, are luckier than most -- lucky in secret ways that cannot be transmitted to childless adults. It's a bit like Zen practice -- something, and that something isn't always nice -- happens.
With the daily, hourly, minute-ly attention required, children slam the prison bars shut and open the door to an unimagined freedom:
"I" am interesting, but I am not that interesting.
I suppose there are other ways to find this out, but if you want to find the bar-none-best teachers, try a kid.