Are You Parenting With the Shutters Closed?

The House in the Meadow

When I recently read The Untethered Soul, one part refused to leave my mind.

A man builds a house in the middle of a beautiful meadow. At first, he spends his days outside—sun on his face, flowers swaying in the breeze. But over time, little annoyances creep in. The wind blows too hard. The sun feels too hot. So, he retreats inside for comfort.

Then one day, a storm rolls in. He closes the shutters for safety. A few more storms, a few more closed shutters… and before long, he’s living in a dark, stuffy house—afraid to step outside at all.

One day, his housekeeper leaves her room and sweeps and dusts and laughs with him. The lights are on, the house is cleaner, it feels warmer. But… even with the laughter and the lightbulbs, they’re still in the dark. The shutters are still closed.

Parenting is exactly like that.

The Meadow Stage

We all start in the meadow.

When our kids are babies, everything is possibility. We imagine adventures, family traditions, meaningful conversations. We see ourselves baking cookies together, camping under the stars, dancing in the kitchen.

We’re wide open.

The meadow feels easy then—because it’s new, and because we haven’t yet been worn down by real-life storms.

How the Shutters Start Closing

Life happens.

• The toddler tantrums in the grocery store that make you abandon a full cart of groceries.
• The school drop-off arguments about socks, shoes, and the fact that “yes, you do have to wear pants.”
• The teenage eye rolls that can slice your confidence in half faster than you’d think possible.

Each of those moments is like a small gust of wind that makes you flinch. You shut one shutter—just for now, you tell yourself. Another storm, another shutter.

You stop trying new things because you’re tired of the pushback. You avoid certain conversations because you don’t want the fight. You give up on family activities because they always seem to end in tears (sometimes yours).

Soon, without realizing it, you’re living in a version of parenting that’s comfortable but dim. You’re getting through the days, but you’ve stopped stepping outside.

Why This Matters

Kids notice when the shutters are closed.

They feel it when we’re “there” but not really there.

They feel it when we stop sharing parts of ourselves.

They feel it when we stick to what’s safe, because it teaches them to do the same.

And connection, joy, growth… all of it happens in the meadow. The messy, unpredictable, bug-filled meadow.

How to Reopen the Shutters (Without Burning Out)

Stepping back into the meadow doesn’t mean you suddenly sign up for every school event or reinvent yourself as the “fun parent” overnight. It’s small, consistent openings.

Here’s where to start:

1. Notice Which Shutters Are Closed

Maybe you stopped having friends over because your house is never “ready.”

Maybe you quit singing in the car because your kid said, “Mom, your embarrassing me.”

Maybe you haven’t tried a new recipe in years because dinner time is already stressful enough.

Write down three things you’ve avoided—not to guilt yourself, but to notice where you’ve gone dark.

2. Open One Shutter at a Time

Pick one tiny thing and try again.

Sing in the car. Wear the silly hat. Sign up for the park trip you’ve been avoiding.

3. Expect Bugs

The meadow is not perfect. There will be whining. You will sometimes wish you’d stayed inside.

Do it anyway. Your kids will remember that you tried—and they’ll learn to try too.

4. Bring Yourself Into the Meadow, Not Just Your Parenting Role

Your kids don’t just need “Mom the Scheduler” or “Mom the Disciplinarian.” They need you. The you who loves hiking, painting, telling ridiculous jokes or whatever YOU love doing.

Let them see that person.

What the Meadow Looks Like in Real Life

• Saying yes to an impromptu backyard picnic, even if it’s PB&J on a Tuesday.
• Letting your teen teach you their favorite video game, even if you’re terrible at it.
• Reading a book out loud again, even though your voice is tired, because your kid asked.
• Trying a hobby together—gardening, painting, building something—without caring if it’s Pinterest-worthy.

These aren’t grand gestures. They’re small openings that let the light back in.

What Happens When We Parent With the Shutters Open

When the shutters are open, kids learn:

• It’s safe to try new things.
• Messy is okay.
• Connection matters more than perfection.

And maybe most importantly—they see that you’re still growing, too. That you haven’t stopped learning, laughing, and stepping into new spaces just because you became a parent.

Your Meadow is Waiting

The meadow doesn’t have to be a constant state. You’ll still have storms. You’ll still close the shutters sometimes.

But the goal isn’t to live wide open every second—it’s to make sure you keep coming back.

Because that’s where the magic is. That’s where you and your kids will grow together.

Take Action

Today, pick one shutter to open. Just one. It can be as small as sitting on the floor to play Legos or inviting your child to help you cook dinner. Then notice how it feels—for both of you.

The view is worth it.