It’s strange how the most minor things from childhood stick with a person long after they grow up. Not the significant events one might expect, like birthdays or report cards, but the little lessons picked up without realizing it. Sometimes it’s a phrase a parent repeated, sometimes a teacher’s way of handling a student, or even a silly game that secretly taught more than it seemed.
One recalls sitting at the kitchen table as a child, struggling to remember letters. Their dad would stand behind them, giving a light “thump” on their head whenever they forgot one. It wasn’t cruel, just his old-school way of teaching. At the time, the child hated it. But eventually, all those letters were learned, and later, they realized it wasn’t just about the alphabet. It was about persistence. The father showed that sometimes learning comes the hard way, but it happens nonetheless.
Not all lessons were so profound. Some came in the form of play. Long afternoons of baseball with neighborhood kids taught the child about teamwork. Building model cars with a best friend taught patience and sometimes frustration when the glue stuck fingers together. Even playing marbles in the street was a kind of education; it taught how to lose, win, and get back up no matter what.
Then there were the quiet lessons. Watching their mother cook dinner every night taught them more about love than any lecture could. She didn’t just put food on the table; she created a space where everyone felt safe and connected. As an adult, they understood how much effort it took and how much care was hidden in those ordinary routines.
These childhood lessons aren’t the kind found in a textbook. They’re the kind that show up years later, in the way one treats others or reacts when life gets hard. Looking back, they see how those moments shaped them far more than they realized at the time.
That’s part of why they wanted to write “Autobiography of a Bkahti Yogi.” They do not brag about accomplishments or paint a perfect picture, but instead, they want to share the big and small lessons that shaped their life. Some were tough, others were embarrassing, but all left a mark. And perhaps, just perhaps, they will remind someone else of their own lessons, buried in memories of backyard games, family dinners, or even those hard knocks everyone experiences along the way.
Because childhood doesn’t just end when people grow up; it lingers inside, shaping who they become. If they pay attention, those lessons whisper to them, reminding them of what truly matters.
