This is an interesting Sunday Scribbling since the prompt is to write about instructions, but no instructions are given. I love irony!
I both love and hate instructions. If they're too long--say ones that come with putting a piece of furniture together--my attention wanders and I don't follow them and then my coffee table is forever slanted. If they're too demanding or precise (to be a real yogi, you must wake up at 5 am to do yoga), I rebel and lose interest in the project. But left without instructions, I complain that I don't have enough direction to get started. Yes, maybe there's just something about instructions that is inherently ironic.
All of a sudden, a lot of my friends are having babies. Of course it makes me think if or when I'll want my own. I'm still pretty unsure, though I imagine one day I will (but I really don't want to give birth after hearing all sorts of horror stories!) . If I had to give my kids instructions on life, I would paraphrase from something Li-Young said at a poetry reading attended and blogged about by poet mom: "More than anything else," I would say, "Strive to find the recipe that makes your individual life work."