A Trip to Singapore - Beyond Control: Trusting the Next Generation to Find Their Way

This morning, during my meditation, I asked for guidance—to understand why I’m being led to Singapore at this particular moment, while I’m still discerning the next step in my career. I know the answers may not reveal themselves all at once. Instead, they often arrive as quiet insights, slowly unfolding as I allow each experience to settle in.

One of those moments came unexpectedly during a community event where people were given the opportunity to ask questions of a spiritual teacher. As I listened, I was struck by how many of the questions—more than half, in fact—centered around children: “How can I get my son to focus?” “What should I do if my daughter doesn’t want to study medicine?” “How can I guide my child to make the right choices?”

I sat with quiet surprise, realizing that I wouldn’t have asked about my children if given the chance. Not because I don’t love them deeply, but because I no longer believe that my role is to chart the course of their lives. It’s a belief that has evolved over time and across continents—from my own upbringing in a traditional Asian household to my adult life in the United States. Living in the U.S. has shifted how I view autonomy, growth, and the meaning of support.

I’ve come to understand that even the best advice in the world cannot replace the importance of a person making their own decisions. Children, like all of us, must navigate life on their own terms. And while guidance is valuable, control is not the same as care. At this stage in my life, I am learning to let go of what I cannot—and should not—control.

Watching the worried faces of parents asking those questions, I found myself imagining two likely outcomes:

1. The child accepts the guidance without resistance and follows the life path laid out for them. While this may look like harmony on the surface, it often comes at the cost of personal agency. These children may never fully learn how to think critically, solve problems independently, or take responsibility for their choices—because those choices were never fully theirs to begin with.

2. The child rejects the guidance and chooses their own way. In this case, the parent is left feeling heartbroken, believing their wisdom has been ignored, their influence diminished.

   
   

Neither outcome truly serves the child or the parent. Instead, both stem from a deeply human, but ultimately unhelpful, illusion: that we can (and must) control the direction of our children’s lives in order to protect them. But protection isn’t the same as preparation—and preparation is what truly matters.

I believe the next generation is not meant to be molded into our image, but empowered to surpass us. They should be smarter, more adaptable, and more attuned to the needs of the world they are inheriting—a world we may not fully understand. Our role as parents is not to dictate their journey but to support them in navigating it. The best we can offer is the wisdom we've gained from our own trials—not as instructions, but as reference points they can turn to if and when they need them.

In the end, love is not control—it is trust. Trust in the people our children are becoming. Trust in the values we’ve modeled. And trust that, with the right support, they will find their own way, even if it looks different from the one we imagined.