A Message From Our Future

Revealing the foundation of our mental health crisis

I work in youth suicide prevention and am often asked, “why do you think so many kids are struggling?” This is the second in a series of articles exploring this question.

Let’s send the “kids” out of the room for a minute. It’s time for a serious talk.

Our means of keeping our little ones happy and healthy aren’t working. Anxiety and depression are higher than ever. And, in Utah, the State where I live and work, the leading cause of death for youth ages 10–17 is suicide.

We must be doing something fundamentally wrong.

I don’t believe that schools are to blame for the plight of the modern kid. Though I do think we’re complicit–a party to the crimes of a deteriorating world.

This is not a critique of the caring educators who choose the difficult work in schools. I admire every single one. Our collective loss is not sourced from within the sacred walls of a common classroom, though it is reflected within them.

Our loss has been nurtured by thousands of daily decisions, by all of us.

Let’s take a minute, together, to honor the dead.

RIP: Joy

How did it happen?

I’ve been on the scene trying to put the pieces together.

There’s no clear way to describe the scene of the crime. It happened in its own way, in its own time, for each of us. One thing is clear: It wasn’t one thing, one thought, or one person. It took years.

It wasn’t carefully planned or premeditated. The killer was unintentional.

Though it was no accident.

The victim slowly succumbed to its killer. Buried alive by tiny spoonfuls of dirt, and, every once in a while, a heaping shovelful. Hundreds of “don’ts” and “can’ts” and “won’ts” layered with “shoulds” and “musts” and “have-tos.”

As with any loss, we’ve been through it all: anger, denial, bargaining, depression. We’ve acted out as well as in, blaming ourselves and our broken world.

Our culture is grieving, without understanding what’s been lost.

Many of us have moved on and left the dead behind. Our schools, our churches, our jobs, our universities, our families, our fitness rituals, and even our entertainment reflect our acceptance.

Joy is not the foundation of daily life for most of us. It’s become an “if you’re lucky” byproduct of strain and hard work.

The most “successful” among us have managed to delay gratification, reserving joy for hard-earned vacations and some evenings and weekends.

So long as we’ve done our chores.

We’ve chosen performance over play, accumulation over experience, grades over growth, staying-in-line over alignment, competition over connection, money over time, and what’s realistic over what can be imagined.

Sometimes I wonder if the kids without symptoms of anxiety and depression are who we should be most worried about. Should we celebrate a seamless integration into a productivity-obsessed, tribal world?

We’re chasing an illusory view from the “top” rather than bathing in the beauty that is.

And we wonder, what’s wrong with our kids?

It’s time to invite the “kids” back into the room, to finish our talk. Rather than assume that we have the answers, why don’t we do some listening.

My youngest kid who is always singing, running, and always wants “more play”

This picture says it all — her self-painted face, the stacked chairs and stools. This girl, my middle kid, stops for nothing!

My oldest is playful and pure, this cat is obsessed, just like everyone, he has unconditional love for any one and any thing

This is what I came home to yesterday (4/17/24) — all three just being kids, reminding me how to be

There is so much to learn. I am so lucky to be their dad.

There is a child within each of us. Inviting us to a new way of being.

Our beautiful future is held within each of us, if we can revive and reconnect with joy.

A Message from the Future

How does it happen?

I’ve been trying to put the pieces together.

There’s no clear way to describe the scene of the miracle. It happens in its own way, in its own time, for each of us. One thing is clear: It isn’t one thing, one thought, or one person. It could takes years.

It’s not carefully planned or premeditated; though it is intentional, every small step.

It’s never an accident.

The victim slowly unburies themself. Coming to life by removing tiny spoonfuls, and, every once in a while, a heaping shovelful. Hundreds of “I’d love to!s” and “why not?!s” and “yes!s” uncovering “not this time’s” and “I can’t’s” and “no thank you’s.”

As with any miraculous change, we’ve been through it all: bewilderment, surprise, denial, contentment. We’ve acted out as well as in, thanking ourselves and our beautiful world.

Our culture is healing, because we are beginning to see what we could lose.

Our beautiful future and the resurgence of our childlike past.