During a tense custody battle, my 8-year-old son quietly pressed play on his phone-and what echoed through the courtroom left everyone frozen in stunned silence – Wake Up Your Mind

was eight years old. Small for his age, with brown hair that never quite stayed in place and a habit of chewing the inside of his cheek when he was anxious. His legs didn’t quite reach the floor from the chair, so they swung slightly, back and forth, like a quiet metronome counting down something none of them could yet see.

Lydia glanced back at him,continue reading …