Imagination
He put the seashell to his ear.
“What do you hear in there?” I asked.
“A small sea.”
“Can I listen, too?”
“No, you’re big.”
-Alex Epstein
Hello :)
I'm Ofir Goldman, a Parenting Counselor living in Austria with my partner and our three children, following a family journey across Asia.
My path into parenting and education wasn't a straight one, and that's probably why I bring such a diverse set of tools to my work today. For nearly 20 years, I worked as a film and television producer. That experience taught me to look at people, partnerships and situations from different perspectives, find solutions in changing circumstances, and above all, understand that every story has more than one point of view.
Later, I moved into education, managing a cluster of municipal kindergartens for the Herzliya Municipality in Israel, while continuing to explore questions of education and children's culture that had fascinated me long before I became a mother.
I hold a Master's degree in Children's and Youth Culture. I've worked at the Israeli Children's Channel, studied Montessori education for early childhood, deepened my understanding of Waldorf education, and earned a certificate in forest education. Alongside this, I trained in Adlerian parent guidance and further explored Nonviolent Communication and the attachment-based approach.
Each approach has added another tool to my toolbox. But to me, the magic isn't in finding one right approach. It's in being able to truly see the child, the parent and the family as a whole, and choose the tools that best suit them.
Just Like in the Book
"Mom, smile", my son reminds me.
“Remember what happens to people who get angry in The Land of Tempers?” he asks me for what feels like the millionth time I've told him to get in the shower. He's still standing there, making faces at himself in the mirror.
The night before, we'd read another chapter of The Faraway Tree, which led to a long conversation about anger and shouting, how much I dislike shouting as a mom, and how much they dislike it when I do.
On the spur of the moment, I suggested: “Maybe, like in the book, whenever I start getting upset, you could remind me that you can't be angry when you're smiling. Maybe then we can solve the problem instead of getting angry?”
And then, just as I feel the smoke starting to come out of my ears, he smiles and waits.
“Smile?” I ask.
We both burst out laughing. The tension melts away, and off he runs to the bathroom.
The Heart Leads Naturally
My youngest was having a really hard time at kindergarten. Every morning brought difficult goodbyes and lots of tears. Her teacher had changed, and she just hadn't managed to connect with the new one. Two months into the school year, she still didn't feel at ease.
She came home especially sad that day. Later, when the older kids left for their activities and we had an hour to ourselves, I asked her what she'd like to do and let her take the lead.
We set off for a walk, and she led us towards the forest. Along the way, we chatted about kindergarten, her friends and the food. We wandered among the trees, collecting little treasures from nature: interesting leaves, twigs and whatever else caught our eye.
Then, quite suddenly, she stopped.
“Mom, we're lost.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We don't know how to get back,” she explained.
“I trust you, my girl. You're a strong girl with so much inner strength. Lead us home,” I told her.
She started crying, so I held her close. It took a while before she began to believe in herself.
Then we closed our eyes together. She listened quietly and said her heart was telling her we should go that way, pointing ahead.
I knew that all the paths would eventually lead us out, but I said nothing. She was still unsure, but slowly began to lead the way.
Every few moments, she stopped, closed her eyes and listened to the forest, finding her bearings in her own way. Step by step, she grew more confident. And when, ten minutes later, we finally emerged onto the familiar street, her smile made it all worthwhile.
The next morning, as we arrived at kindergarten, I whispered to her: “You have so much strength, my girl. You always know how to find your way.”
I knew that, little by little, things would begin to fall into place there too.
Just One More Game
Dinner time. We're all sitting around the table when, barely two minutes in, my daughter gets up and starts doing pirouettes instead of eating.
I ask her to come back.
The most annoying answer in the world comes flying back: “In a minute!”
“Sweetheart, your food is getting cold…”
“Just a minute, Mom!” And off she dances.
Her brother rolls his eyes. “Why is she such a baby? Why can't she just sit at the table?” Her older sister giggles. She hears them, but says nothing. Not yet.
I can feel it coming: hurt feelings, followed by a full-blown tantrum of tears and shouting. I take a breath and close my eyes, already imagining how the rest of the evening will unfold. She won't come back to eat because she's upset, and then she won't want to go to bed because she's hungry.
What can I do?
I look at her older sister, who can be either a teenager or an ally, depending on the moment. This time, she chooses to help.
“No one in the world could ever steal this cucumber from me!” I announce.
“Or my tomato!” her sister joins in, holding it out on her open palm.
Her brother tries to take a bite, but I laugh. “You think you're a Sneaky Wolf? Try again!”
Behind me, I hear little footsteps approaching, but I don't move. Suddenly, a loud crunch.
“WHO STOLE MY CUCUMBER? Is that my Sneaky Wolf?”
A little giggle. When I turn around, she's hiding behind her chair.
“Again! Again!” she cries.
Her brother and sister take turns offering a piece of schnitzel or a tomato on their forks. She sneaks closer and closer, while they play along, cheering whenever she succeeds. Every now and then, they catch her, and she tries again, even more quietly.
A few minutes later, she climbs back into her chair and starts eating.
I quietly swallow a little sigh of relief.
Let's Talk
When it comes to Tinkerbell and Peter Pan,
I absolutely believe in fairies and magic.
But when it comes to parenting guidance, I believe in a process.
That’s why I offer a focused, practical process,
tailored to you and your family.
Initial Call
A free 15-20 minute call to get to know each other and discuss what you’d like to focus on. It’s also an opportunity to see whether I’m the right Parenting Counselor for you.
In-depth introductory Session
A 90-minute session to get to know you and your family, understand the challenges you're facing, and define our goals together.
Practical Sessions
Four one-hour sessions where we work together to develop practical tools, try them out, fine-tune them and see what works best for your family at home.
What happens next?
In most cases, five sessions are enough to create meaningful change and build a valuable set of tools you can keep using.
If you feel you'd like or need to continue, of course, we can.
Even after our work together ends, you're welcome to reach out for advice or book another session at any stage of family life,
as your children grow and new challenges arise.
