Our children see the results, but not the path. They see the athlete winning, but not the hours of training. They see the famous artist, yet not the years of practice. And this creates an unrealistic expectation: that things must be achieved quickly and without effort.

And when they discover that this is not the case, they get frustrated. They give up. They think they are not good enough. However, value is not only in achieving things. It is in the process. In getting up every day and trying. In not giving up when it is hard. In discovering what we are capable of when we persist.

How can we teach this? First, by valuing effort over results. Instead of saying "what a good grade!", say "I’ve seen how you studied, I’m proud of your dedication." Instead of focusing on whether they win or lose, ask "did you try your best? Did you have fun?"

We can also share our own struggles. Tell them when something is difficult for us, when we have to try many times to achieve something. Let them see us making an effort and also making mistakes.

And above all, teach them that effort is what is in their hands. The results, not always. But if they try hard, they will always be able to be proud of the path taken.

Because in the end, it is not what we achieve that defines us, but how we achieve it. Until next month, and may you “ThinkThrough” a lot.

The reason is that we live in a success culture where mistakes are penalized. At school, at work, in life. But if we think about it carefully, all our most important learning has come from our mistakes.

When a child starts to walk, they fall a thousand times. And no one tells them "that’s it, you’ve failed at walking". We simply encourage them to try again. But what happens as we grow up? As we grow, mistakes are no longer seen with this normality.

What would happen if we changed our view on mistakes? If instead of saying "you did that wrong" we said "how interesting, you’ve discovered a way that doesn’t work"? If we celebrated mistakes as learning opportunities?

Children need to know that making mistakes is human, normal, and necessary. That the people they admire also make mistakes. That I, as a mother, as a teacher, sometimes am scared too and also do things wrong, that I make mistakes.

This month I suggest you share your mistakes with your children or your students, explain to them that you have made many mistakes and what you have learned from these stumbles along the way. Talk about your mistakes naturally. And when they make mistakes, change the "it’s okay" to a "what have you learned from this?".

Because mistakes are not failures. They are steps toward growth.

Until next month and “ThinkDeeply” a lot.

When you look back, do you remember who read you a story before bed? It wasn’t just the story; it was the moment. It was the feeling of companionship, security, and love. It was that space just for us where all that mattered were the words and our connection.

Reading together is much more than turning pages. It’s creating a ritual, a space of connection. It’s discovering new worlds together, laughing at the same scenes, being afraid of the same characters. It’s sharing emotions.

And you don’t have to wait for children to know how to read on their own. In fact, continuing to read aloud to them when they’re older is an incredible gift. It allows access to stories more complex than they could read alone, it allows deeper conversations, it keeps that special moment alive.

We can also each read our own book but in the same space. Sitting on the couch, each immersed in our own story, but together. This also teaches that reading is a valuable activity, one worth dedicating time to.

And if you want practical advice: leave books within reach throughout the house. On the nightstand, on the couch, in the kitchen. Let them be part of the everyday landscape. Let them be as accessible as anything else.

The passion for reading is not taught through obligations. It spreads by example and grows with shared moments.

Until next month, and may you “ThinkDeeply” a lot.

But what happens when we don’t teach them to say no?

Saying no is an act of self-respect. It is recognizing our limits, our needs, our space. And it is a fundamental life skill.

A child who doesn’t know how to say no will become an adult who lets others lead them. Who will accept situations that don’t suit them for fear of disappointing. Who will always put others first. Is that what we want to pass on? Is that what we want to become?

I’m not saying we should raise selfish or rude children. I’m talking about teaching them that it’s okay to have limits, that they can decide about their own bodies, that they don’t have to give hugs if they don’t feel like it, that they can say “I don’t want to” without guilt.

How do we do it? First, by respecting their no’s. When a child says “I don’t want a hug” and we insist “give grandma a hug”, we are telling them that their limits don’t matter.

When we respect their decisions (as long as they don’t involve danger), we teach them that they have the right to decide about themselves.

Have you ever considered what it means not to respect their “I don’t want”, “I don’t like it”, “I don’t feel like it”?

This month, observe how many times they say no and how you react. And think about whether you are teaching them to respect themselves.

Because saying no is also a form of self-love.

Until next month and may you “ThinkDeeply” a lot.

But if we are honest with ourselves, this thought is a rather limiting thought, since many times it is they who teach us.

I don’t know if you have ever felt this way, but to me, children teach me to live in the present moment when they stop to watch an ant for ten minutes.

They teach me to truly forgive when five minutes after an argument they have already forgotten what made them so angry.

They teach me to be brave when they try new things without fear of looking silly.

And above all, they teach me to be a better person.

Because educating is not a one-way street. It is not only about passing on knowledge or values from top to bottom. It is a constant dialogue, a path walked together, where everyone, if willing, learns.

When my students or my daughter ask me "why are you sad?" it forces me to name and identify my emotions and, therefore, I am learning. When they tell me "this is not fair" they make me reconsider a decision and, therefore, I am growing. When they forgive me so easily, they are teaching me about generosity.

Children are not empty vessels that we must fill with our wisdom. They are whole people, with their own worldview, often clearer and more honest than ours.

This month I invite you to pay attention to everything your children teach you. To truly listen to their questions, to value their opinions, to learn from their way of living.

Because educating is also letting yourself be educated.

Until next month and may you “ThinkDeeply” a lot.

We live in a world full of constant stimuli. We all always have an endless list of tasks to do, day after day.

Our children go from one extracurricular activity to another, from homework to video games, from the phone to the tablet. And when there is a moment of silence, an empty space, we feel the urgent need to fill it with something.

But what happens if we get bored for a while... and let them get bored?

I have often been surprised thinking that I can’t stop, that I am wasting time if I do nothing. Also saying “come on, let’s do this” when I saw my daughter sitting apparently doing nothing productive.

As if boredom were an enemy to fight, something to avoid at all costs.

But it turns out that boredom is the best soil for creativity. When nothing is scheduled, when there is no screen entertaining us, we are forced to look within ourselves.

And that is when the craziest ideas, the most imaginative games, the most incredible stories, the deepest questions appear.

Boredom is not wasted time. It is time to gain. It is the space where curiosity is born, where autonomy develops, where we learn to be comfortable with ourselves.

So this month I propose a simple (and difficult at the same time) challenge: leave empty spaces in your schedule and in your children’s.

Don’t schedule every minute of the weekend. Resist the temptation to look for an activity to do when you think — or are told — “I’m bored.”

And see what happens. You might be surprised to discover that the best adventures are born from boredom.

Until next month, and may you “Think deeply” a lot.