From me to you – Page 2

Spirit Time

“”It may be hard to believe that stopping to meditate together just a few minutes each day could possibly make your kids happier and more peaceful and confident, but give it a try for three months and see for yourself. I saw it in my own children, and I see it all the time in the families I work with as a children’s meditation teacher.”
~ Kerry Lee MacLean

When I first left my for-pay job to stay home with my boys, I had a dream of reinstating my daily meditation practice. My then 10-month-old son was not yet sleeping through the night, or anything close to it—Bean hated our daytime separation so much that he would often cluster feed at night to get the mommy-time he craved—so my previous routine of getting up early to get some me-time wasn’t really working. I knew it was an idea to keep working towards, but I needed something to feed me in the interim. My aha! moment came when it occurred to me to include my boys in my practice, and Spirit Time was born.

Spirit Time is my opportunity to do my practice in front of my children, and they are welcome to join in if they choose to. That doesn’t mean that it looks anything at all like my typical morning practice, which really requires about 30 minutes of alone time to feel satisfying. It is much more kid-friendly, including meditation, movement, and reading.

Meditation

My boys were not yet 1 and 3 when we started Spirit Time, and now they’re not yet 2 and 4. This makes for a pretty loose interpretation of the concept of meditation. When I started, I would simply sit on my meditation cushion and attempt to watch my breath “in the middle of the marketplace,” otherwise known as our playroom-of-a-living room. I’ll put on a New Age Pandora station or turn the TV to Comcast’s Soundscapes to provide some calming background music, perhaps more for my sake than for theirs. Some days I end up with a child (or two) in my lap. Other days I end up being a climbing structure. Today, Bean was having a seriously rough morning and kept melting down, so I ended up nursing him while I watched my breath.

I recently fell in love with this Simple Toddler Meditation, and I’ve borrowed/adapted a couple of components for our use. When it is time to begin Spirit Time, we often have to clean up our toys first so I sing a little cleaning song. Then I move into our Spirit Time song, sung to the tune of London Bridge: “Please come and join my little ring, little ring, little ring. Please come and join my little ring, and make it a little bit bigger.” Spider Boy will often set up a pillow for each of the boys as well as my meditation cushion, so technically there is a place for all three of us, and I will talk for a minute in a soothing voice to help let them know what I am doing, as if I am leading a guided meditation. I will take a few deep breaths and, depending on their energy, maybe take a moment or two to watch my breath, and then I’ll move into vocalizations. Spider Boy especially loves language, so I start by taking five deep breaths, making one of the vowel sounds on each outbreath. A becomes aaaah; E becomes eeeee; I becomes iiiii; O becomes ohhhh; and U becomes ooooh. Bean especially loves animals, so then I will take five or so more deep breaths, making an animal sound on each outbreath. Favorites include moooo, cock-a-doodle-doooo, hisssss, hee-haaaaw, and neeiigh.

I know as the boys get older, we can move into more traditional guided meditations and visualizations, but for now my intention is to model a sitting practice for them, and to ground my own energy, which has huge affects not just directly on me, but on them as well.

Movement

Getting my boys into yoga was one of those “seemed like a good idea at the time” ideas for far too long. Spider Boy is really resistant to “follow the leader” type activities, and isn’t one to participate when, say, there’s a song at his preschool with hand movements. He might do them later when it is his idea to sing the song, but not typically in the moment. I tried showing him yoga videos with kids doing the movements, and he thought they were amusing (sometimes), but really was not interested in doing the movements, and often would get upset with me for attempting to do them myself.

Bean is another story. Now that he is old enough to do the movements himself, he loves them, so I am one happy yoga mama. We started with a handful of toddler yoga videos from YouTube to provide a common base for us to work off of. While I love The Sun Dance (and watching either Spider Boy or Bean do a downward dog is priceless!), Bean’s favorite by far is Bug Yoga. This morning we checked out a couple of kids’ yoga videos I noticed On Demand. The Space yoga wasn’t as big of a hit as I thought it would be, but Bean loved the Farm one. At one point she has the kids doing back rolls (saying it’s like pigs rolling in the mud), and Bean got super excited and dropped onto the floor to do Dead Bug Pose. (Precious!)

As time goes on, I expect Bean to take the lead here, with Spider Boy following a little more reluctantly. As Spider Boy starts to get favorite movement activities over time, I can incorporate more of what I know he likes to get him engaged, and perhaps just encourage him to do it on his own at other times of day. I will also incorporate movement from other traditions, like qigong. But much like the meditation, my goal for now is to model movement that gets our energy flowing.

Reading

Spider Boy is an avid reader. He loves being read to, listening to audiobooks, and now beginning to read himself. Bean is much more hit or miss, loving books in theory but having minimal patience to sit through full books. Either way, setting aside time to read to the boys each day is incredibly important to me, as is having at least one of those books be one with a good message. Typically I’ll get out three or four books and let Spider Boy choose one for us to read. This enables me to focus where I’d like for us to go during Spirit Time, and then if either of the boys wants to read a second book (or more), I’m open to whatever they’re interested in. This morning, they both desperately wanted to read, and all three of us each picked out a book. We started with A Great Attitude—a simple book with a simple message about how it isn’t what happens to you that makes you have a good day, it’s how you choose to respond—and then moved on to Anh’s Anger—a wonderful story about a boy who befriends his anger and learns how to release the negative energy in ways that leave him feeling good and empowered. And then Bean snuggled into my lap to read What Does It Mean To Be Present—a simple yet beautifully illustrated book that talks about mindfulness and being present aimed at school-aged children. Bean had a great time pointing out the blue butterfly on each page.

I love having this time to read about things that are important to me, like mindfulness. They are each going to take away probably a sliver of what the book’s intention is, especially when we read something like poetry from Earth Prayers, but I know what is said is percolating in their brains when Spider Boy asks a question later in the day (or week, or even month) about one of our Spirit Time stories. For their first six years especially, children are such little sponges. They are absorbing substantially more of what they’re read to (and shown and told, etc.) than we ever anticipate, so my goal is to be sure that for at least one story a day, they’re being given tools to build a strong foundation for their social, emotional, and spiritual development.

Spirit Time On The Go

There are days when we simply just do not have time for Spirit Time. While any one step of Spirit Time is not that time consuming, the boys are still so young that there is a considerable amount of running around time in the midst of the practice, so it can take anywhere from 30 minutes to 90 minutes (not dedicated time, of course!) I typically have it incorporated into our morning routine so that we are getting dressed, going potty, and possibly even cooking breakfast in and around our practice. However, if we are planning a grand adventure for the day and need to be out of the house early, we will take Spirit Time with us. I will let my mom drive, and then I can walk the boys through a modified meditation and some reading time, and sometimes we will even squeeze some yoga in at the park or wherever we’re headed. (Bean loves to do Dead Bug Pose just about anywhere!)

As with so many things about parenting, this practice has taught me not to compartmentalize so much. No matter what we are doing throughout our day, this is life. It can feel crazy and chaotic sometimes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have time to do what is important to us. At first it may feel like you’re carving out that time, and possibly even sacrificing something else in order to make it work, but then it becomes just a part of the routine, a part of life, as integral to your life as breathing is. This is my goal with Spirit Time, to make sure that I am taking the time to nourish my spirit all while showing my boys that it is something worth making time for. The long-term benefits for them are huge—self-regulation skills, the ability to focus, even improved health—and short-term, getting to share this part of my life with them is priceless. Namaste.

What is mindful parenting?

“Mindfulness practice means that we commit fully in each moment to be present; inviting ourselves to interface with this moment in full awareness, with the intention to embody as best we can an orientation of calmness, mindfulness, and equanimity right here and right now.” ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

There is an exciting parenting movement afoot that is growing by leaps and bounds. While it may be more accurate to say there are many movements afoot—positive parenting, gentle parenting, conscious parenting, spiritually-aware parenting, attachment parenting, playful parenting, and more—they are all subtle variations on a theme. The label that is resonating the most for me these days is mindful parenting.

So what is mindful parenting? I suspect that everyone practices their subtle variation on this parenting theme in their own way—I know that I am a big believer in finding your own way of doing things that works for you—but these variations have more in common than not. Here is my take on what the key points are:

Respect. Your children are people too, just as deserving of your respect as the adults in your life. When you respect them, you are modeling what respect looks like, teaching them to respect others in return.

Limits. Setting and enforcing consistent limits is critical to a child’s sense of security. It is their job to test boundaries; it is your job to ensure those boundaries are strong.

Mirroring. Your children are your mirror. This works in a couple of different ways. Children learn from watching and imitating others’ behavior much more than they do from being talked to, so BE the things you want your children to be. And if you see a “negative” behavior showing up in your children, take a look at how you are feeling and acting now to see how you might be affecting them.

Listen. We often complain that our children don’t listen to us, but it is equally true that we often don’t really listen to them. Listening to your children not only helps them to feel heard, it can give you much needed insight into the way your children’s minds work.

Connection. Even the most independent children still need a strong emotional connection with their parents. The most connected children are the most secure children, and that security enables them to be more successful in life not just in the early years, but as teenagers and beyond. When children “act out,” they are almost always feeling disconnected. Help them to feel reconnected first, then try to teach them a better way to act.

Breathe. When in doubt, take a deep breath. If you need to, leave the room. Center yourself, get yourself back to a place of loving-kindness, then reengage. Children are incredibly sensitive to energy, and will respond in kind.

Play. Children learn and communicate through play. When we get down at their level and play with them, it’s not just fun, it’s a way for us to both learn and teach. If there’s something you really want your children to learn, find a way to make it a game.

Awareness. Being aware of what’s going on with you, what’s going on with your children, what’s going on in your environment, can make a huge impact in your ability to respond instead of react.

Stay Present. Life is unfolding in the present moment, and no one is better at truly living in the present than a child. Not only is this moment of huge importance to your children because every moment is, each moment of your own life is deserving of your full attention. The more you can slow down and experience the present moment, the more fully you can experience your life and your children’s lives.

Parenting is full of a lot of little moments that can easily get to feeling like drudgery, that can easily bring up a sense of resistance in us. When we practice mindfulness, we can shift those moments, we can “do the dishes” (as Byron Katie would say) and love the task that’s in front of us, and love our children just as they are in this moment. Mindful parenting is a reminder to me that a mindful life is a full life, and every moment is a blessing with the opportunity for learning, for growth, for joy, and for love. Namaste.

Mindful Parenting e-Bundle Sale!

I am super excited for the Mindful Parenting e-Bundle sale that begins today and runs through June 10th! Some of the top conscious parenting bloggers have joined forces to create a fantastic bundle of resources at a fraction of the cost. Topics include gentle parenting, self-care for parents, creativity and play, children and food, spirituality, and more—pretty much sums up what I’m all about these days!

More than 20 products for $24.95 (valued over $274). Available only from May 28 to June 10, 2013. And if you buy the bundle through my website, I get a portion of the proceeds. Win win!

I am going to be writing more about mindful parenting throughout the 12 days of the sale, but this is such a great deal that I wanted to get a quick blurb up about it this morning. I love how positive parenting, conscious parenting, gentle parenting, spiritually-aware parenting, mindful parenting—all subtle variations on what is essentially the same theme—are taking off and becoming more the “norm.” It bodes well for this generation of children and those to come—and their parents! Namaste.

Which way do I lean?

“The days are long, but the years are short.” ~ Gretchen Rubin

“The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.” ~ James Taylor

With Spider Boy’s first year of preschool coming to a close next week, I’ve been looking back over this past calendar year a lot lately, my first year as a “stay at home mom.” This year has been a lot of things. Intense. Emotional. Chaotic. Playful. Stressful. Fun. Messy. Diverse. Routine. Challenging. Exhausting. Beneficial. And ultimately, Priceless. My boys will turn 2 and 4 this summer. No longer babies and yet still so very young. Every time one of them climbs up in my lap, or reaches up to hold my hand, or snuggles down in bed with me, I feel such deep gratitude for this time with them. They are growing so fast, physically and mentally and emotionally, and each day is a new adventure with them, a new opportunity for me to see them for who they are, to create a safe space for them to explore, to expand my perspective as I see things through their eyes, to learn from them as much as I am teaching them.

It is not easy. I am “on” 24/7, even in my sleep. My buttons get pushed pretty much constantly. I have been punched, head-butted, kicked, slapped, and elbowed, not always accidentally. I have changed more diapers than I could possibly count. The constant never-ending drone of meal planning, grocery shopping, cooking, dishes, and laundry is often overwhelming. There is no such thing as “just running in” anywhere. I am almost never alone.

I benefit greatly from having gone back to work after the birth of both of my boys. I know what it is like to come home after your child has already gone to sleep. I know the grief of having all too many of your child’s “firsts” happen with other people. I know that weekends are there just so you can catch up on laundry and grocery shopping and other chores. But I have also experienced the simple pleasures of “water cooler” conversations and lunches out with co-workers. And I know how good it feels to do work that you truly feel good at, and to even receive external validation for the good work that you do. Having had both experiences really helps me to appreciate the pros and cons of both choices, if indeed it is truly a binary choice. There are aspects of my work life that I miss (the people, more than anything else), but I’ve lived through it and know how miserable I was trying to balance raising a family with working outside the home, especially after the birth of my second son. On a good day, I felt like I was mediocre at everything I did; on a bad day, I felt like I was failing miserably, not even treading water, drowning in the overwhelm.

Like many women I know, I received news of Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In with mixed feelings. While I really appreciated that she wanted to address the issue of women not rising into leadership roles in government and large businesses, I felt she really did those of us who have thoughtfully and consciously made different decisions a disservice. Long before I became a mother, I really struggled with the idea that I needed to give up so much of my time and energy in order to build someone else’s pyramid, as Daniel Quinn would phrase it. My life has always been multi-faceted; I’ve joked about being a “jack of all trades, master of none,” but truly, I just have a wide variety of skills and interests, and I don’t think there is a “job” that exists that could encapsulate enough of them for me to feel fulfilled. I’ve always needed my time outside of the workplace to round things out, to take classes and be involved in my spiritual community and write and be in nature and much much more. When I left my for-pay job, yes, it was so that I could spend time with my children, but it was also so I could consciously create the well-rounded life that I wanted to live, and be the best example for my children I could be of someone who lives life fully.

One of the things that I feel most thrilled about with this “new” life that I am creating is that there is no longer a clear delineation between what is “work” and what isn’t. My life is my work. Whether I am repotting the organic tomatoes that I grew from seed, tucking my toddler in for his nap, stirring the batter for a batch of zucchini bread, creating a flyer for an upcoming workshop that I’m helping to facilitate, preparing for a board meeting at my son’s preschool, or sitting down to grab a few minutes for quiet meditation, it is all my work. I have never felt more fulfilled.

This is what I feel Sheryl Sandberg and so many others have missed. It seems to me that having a conversation about gender in the workplace is “so last millennium.” Whether you are a man or a woman, whether you’re an empty-nester or new parent or opting not to have children, shouldn’t the encouragement be to live life more fully? To find what it is that you’re passionate about and do that? And if it doesn’t fit inside someone else’s box, to create your own box? I would love to see these influential people talking about how to spend less time at the office and more time exploring this amazing planet we live on, beginning with your own backyard. This isn’t about commitment or ambition or even work-life balance. This is about recognizing that it is all your life, and it is worth making sure that it is one that is being truly LIVED. So which way do I lean? I am leaning in . . . towards life! Namaste.

It’s All My Fault!

“Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.”
~ Hermann Hesse

The last couple of months have been tough ones at our house, for a variety of reasons. I have been in the process of coming off of a long-term medication, with unfortunate and adverse effects; I was responsible for creating the catalog for a recent fundraising auction, which took the bulk of my attention for many weeks; the pollen counts have been through the roof and the whole family has been coughing, sniffly, sneezy, and headachy; my husband has had to work some nights and weekends; and my boys have been their usual incredibly sensitive selves, where even slight challenges or changes get magnified by that lens of sensitivity. Often, when the boys start to “act out,” I know it’s a sign that I am uncentered and need to take steps to ground and recharge, so this past week I was working hard to do my part to restore order from the chaos . . . with mixed results, due at least in part to how out of whack everything had gotten.

By Saturday, the delicate balance in our family looked more like an off-balance washing machine, so it wasn’t necessarily surprising when a straw broke my proverbial camel’s back and I snapped. In a fit of frustration, I started saying, “Fine, it’s all my fault! I get it!” I was frustrated with myself more than anything, but I had been running on empty far too long, and all of my pent up anger and frustration and exhaustion started leaking out. Thankfully the grouchiness didn’t last–with help from my mum and my husband, we were able to turn the energy around in that statement. If it truly was all my fault, then I could also be “blamed” for the gorgeous weather, the abundance at the farmer’s market, the shade from the trees, and the scent of orange blossoms in the air. Writing about it now I can feel the shift inside again, the healing laughter that it created and my sense that I could just let go of “responsibility” alongside “blame.”

Letting go is truly empowering. Yes, of course, it is probably the highest form of empowerment to recognize that by shifting myself (my thoughts, my energy, etc.) I can shift the world around me, however that knowledge can also be crazymaking when things aren’t going as well as you expect/hope/want. As a parent, I need reminding from time to time to let go, to not hold on so tight. There’s a happy balance in there where you find your sea legs, staying present and aware of what’s happening so you can shift where you need to, while holding on to any expectations you have of the outcome gently, letting go of the worry and replacing it with, say, curiosity about what will happen next.

As a write this, it’s another absolutely beautiful day that I’m happy to take credit for, but I’m also happy to not be responsible for it. I am happy to leave the care of my children in the hands of others for a few hours while I reboot and recharge and dream of what curiosity will bring. No matter how bad things get, no matter how awful and guilty and grouchy I feel, there is always more good than not. There is always more good than not. Namaste.

Do you really mean it?

You know that feeling when life grants you a wish, and everything feels like it’s falling into place for a while? It’s such a delicious feeling, with joy and love and a sense of fulfillment blossoming in your heart. It’s like you have the ultimate green thumb, and everything you touch flourishes. I don’t know about you, but for me, I always have this sense of relief, like I’ve finally gotten it, like I’ve arrived. Ah, such sweetness.

And then the next week, or day, or hour even, Something Happens. It might be small–a stubbed toe–or perhaps seem ginormous and overwhelming–a broken leg or, ahem, a pinched nerve. It might appear that life is throwing a curve ball–a reorg at the office–or perhaps it looks like a thrown game–a layoff or a car accident. Whatever it is, it feels completely out of the blue, completely at odds with the sweetness, completely disorienting.

You might think that these situations were created from completely different places, from drastically different energies. One is obviously creative while the other is obviously destructive, yes? Total mixed messages, right? Probably not. In my experience, 9 times out of 10–at least!– they are two sides of the same coin, the exact same delicious, creative energies just showing up in different ways.

This is what I call the Do-You-Really-Mean-Its. You’ve set your intention, aligned with your source, manifested your desires, and it is wonderful. But do you really mean it? Are you already beginning to slip back into old patterns of self-doubt, or perhaps making excuses for why you can’t really do all of those things you were all excited to tackle just yesterday? Or maybe it’s you who have been sending out the mixed messages, setting an intention one day and its opposite the next? And so, in order to clarify what it is you really are looking for in this life, the universe gives you a slightly different reflection of what it is you’ve been desiring.

You might be thinking, “Slightly different? Seriously? But I just got laid off!!” Well yes, to the infinite nature of the universe, that *is* slightly different. You asked for work that was in greater alignment with your spirit, right? Well, step the first was to release the old work that was no longer a match for you. (I’ve always loved being laid off for exactly this reason, so grateful to have the space necessary for me to let go of the old and embrace the new.)

This week my challenge has been to learn how to embrace the pinched nerve in my back. At first I was filled with despair–hadn’t I *just* been writing about how I was moving away from the overwhelm of physical pain? Way to knock the wind out of my sails! But then I remembered to take a deep breath and look this experience straight in the eye, and I saw it for what it really was, a Do-You-Really-Mean-It. I’d been in ostrich-mode for a year and a half, sending out a strong intention of wanting to hole up and avoid life. What better way to do that than to be forced to lie in bed for a few days? The universe was asking me which intention was the real one–to live life vibrantly, fully, and out loud? Or to be an ostrich? When I got that, I was able to answer with a resounding, “Yes, Please! I am ready to be truly LIVING again!” with a little, “Hey, next time, can you find a gentler way to ask?” thrown in for good measure.

Trust me, it ain’t always easy dealing with the Do-You-Really-Mean-Its. In fact, they are almost always challenging. But they are also great opportunities to send out “rockets of desire,” as Abraham would say, truly clarifying your intention within you and for all that vast power of the universe at the same time. This pinched nerve has been my opportunity to shake off my inner ostrich in places I didn’t even realize it was still lingering, and to surrender to the flow of life, allowing the true priorities to make themselves known (did you know that I was one of them? go figure!) in the process. Namaste.

Ostrich-ization

I have a confession to make, something that has been weighing on me for quite some time. I am a bit of a . . . well, no, more than a bit. I am a full-blown, head-in-the-sand OSTRICH. Phew, I said it. What a load off! Wait, what’s that? What does it mean to be an ostrich? Well, it means that when I start to feel overwhelmed with life, I tend to hole up, putting my head in the proverbial sand and allowing myself to look at only what I must to get through the day, the week, or even, I’m embarrassed to admit, the year. Well, that’s not so bad, you might think. Focus is a good survival skill. And yes, in small amounts, it is a truly necessary skill, especially when you have a lot of balls in the air in this busy, busy life. But escapism and avoidance? They cut you off from your source, from love and joy and laughter, and ultimately from living.

The irony here is that ostriching is just about as opposite to my life philosophy as you can get and still be me. See, I am a big believer in self-awareness, consciously looking at myself and where I am and seeing what is keeping me from accomplishing my goals and attaining my dreams. I have invested a lot of time and energy (and I mean A LOT) in personal growth exercises, classes, retreats, etc. over the years, and, as a result, I have, well, grown a lot over the years because of it. I’ve weeded my mental and emotional gardens, exposing and excising all those hidden roots for the dandelion-like issues that always seem to find fertile soil to grow in. I believe in doing a little spring cleaning several times a year, not just in my physical space, but mentally and emotionally to keep exposing any missed roots that might be clogging up my flow. I believe in looking directly at what scares me, looking that fear directly in the face and calling it out for what it is. I believe in feeling the fear and doing it anyway, especially because I know that whatever I feel fear about is life’s way of nudging me towards my next area of self-growth.

So when I pulled my head out of the sand last week, I was astonished to discover that in many respects, I’d been hiding in that fear-based sand for over a year and a half. I’d gotten overwhelmed when my second baby was born (oh yes, that baby who is now 20 months old) and I’d managed to compartmentalize my brain so that things I couldn’t deal with went into a segment that was pretty much a black box, taking stuff in but not allowing things out, so I had fewer things to look at and deal with at any given moment. It is a very effective short-term strategy, but an absolutely abysmal long-term one that can cause mental, emotional, spiritual, and even physical anguish.

I received an email from a friend recently with a story that eloquently describes what happened to me during this time of ostriching:

“A young lady confidently walked around the room while leading and explaining stress management to an audience with a raised glass of water. Everyone knew she was going to ask the ultimate question, ‘half empty or half full?’ She fooled them all: ‘How heavy is this glass of water?’ she inquired with a smile. Answers called out ranged from 8 oz to 20 oz.

She replied, ‘The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.'”

Those “weights” that I stashed away for another day may have started out light as a feather, but by the time I realized I could not carry them anymore, each one weighed a thousand pounds. The longer I carried such heavy weights, the more I ostracized myself from my source. At different times throughout that year and a half I was filled with anxiety, struggled with depression, experienced physical pain throughout my body (migraines; back and knee pain), struggled with finances, and lived in a mental fog that I couldn’t seem to clear myself of. Every time I found myself in such anguish, I would be baffled by it. I was working hard at creating the life I had been wanting to live, enabling many of my life’s dreams to begin to be fulfilled, but at the end of the day I still felt somewhat numb, only halfway able to experience the joy that came along with it.

And so last week I gave myself the great gift of de-ostrich-izing myself. I lifted my head from the sand and shined a light on what was hiding inside that black box inside my head. I put down all of those thousand-pound weights and restored them to their feathery lightness. I took care of some long overdue tasks, and crossed about a gazillion things off of my to-do list in a flurry of clarity and lightness and energy that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The result? In addition to all of the little tangible benefits of “getting stuff done,” I’ve had a return of my ME-ness. I feel more authentic, more at peace, more capable of taking on the world when I need to, and more capable of asking for help when I need to. I am returning to my practice, rewarding myself with my meditation time in the mornings, and sleeping better at night. The creative juices are flowing again and I have ideas bubbling up all over the places, just begging to be birthed out into the world. The numbness is fading, and my deep gratitude for this life I am creating and living is present without my having to work at it.

As I write this, I feel once again the deep sense of relief I experienced last week, along with a renewed sense of awe that I allowed it to go for so long. But I’ve found that’s what happens when you ostracize (or ostrich-ize!) yourself from life — you can no longer hear the messages that life is trying so hard to send you. And so, here I go again, doing my internal spring cleaning, clearing out the weeds in my internal garden, planting new seeds that I hope will shine light when the dark places try to re-emerge, grateful for this opportunity to continue to grow, and grateful for this awareness that has once again pushed me out of my comfort zone and back out into the world to share my stories along this crazy journey called life, my own personal journey of learning to fly. Namaste.

Spider Boy and Bean Revisited

I took a hiatus from blogging this past year for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was postpartum depression, but perhaps the greatest reason has to do with the constant learning curve of being a Stay-At-Home-Mom. New to this job last May, I had this idea in the back of my head that I would master it like I had mastered all of the for-pay jobs I’d held over the years. Those of you who have been parents a lot longer than I have are probably laughing now. Yes, I really was that naive. Even if my boys weren’t the spirited bundles of energy they are, all children are constantly changing in those early years of life, constantly reinventing themselves and discovering the people they will ultimately become. That means as parents we need to be constantly shifting our expectations and perspective, all while creating a sense of consistency that will provide our children the necessary support they require to thrive through this process. When you’re doing this 24/7, well, let’s just say that the only thing you can “master” is surrendering any idea that you’re in control of anything, or that any one day will bear any resemblance to another.

As I was contemplating a return to blogging, I thought about how the names Spider Boy (now 3.5) and Bean (now 20 months) no longer seem to apply. But once again, I realized it was because I was comparing their current iterations to who they were when those names came in to being. After shifting my perspective, I discovered that they’re still a great fit, even if it’s for dramatically different reasons. Spider Boy has turned into a grand storyteller, spinning intricate webs of fantasy in which he attempts to entrap us all. Bean has turned into a climbing vine, always in search of the highest point in any room, the highest available shelf, the highest slide on the playground, reaching for the sun. The one thing that remains the same in all of this is that these boys are my greatest teachers, my greatest inspiration, my greatest gifts. I am truly blessed. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

The Guest House

Show of hands — how many people think Rumi makes for good bedtime reading? As I was reading “The Guest House” to Bean last night as part of our bedtime ritual, I had to wonder — am I the only Mum who reads Sufi mystics to her baby before bed? When Spider Boy was wee, I would be reading him these meaningless books that didn’t even rhyme and he would be enraptured. I wondered if he would know the difference if I swapped out the standard fare for something with a little more substance and flare. By the time I asked this question, he was already really into the pictures and starting to get into the stories, so I was a little late. But I am starting early with Bean, curious about the result, and tempted to go so far as to create illustrations to go along with some of these mystical writings to elongate the process. I love the idea of my 18-month-old reciting Hāfez alongside Sandra Boynton.

“The Guest House” seems especially appropriate, as its subject is in complete alignment with the experience of a baby or small child. I’m reminded of quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, “We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” Our little ones were oh-so-recently pure spirit, and they are having to adjust to the human experience. This learning to be human is hard, full of challenges that begin with the physical and only get more complex as they become emotional, intellectual, or spiritual. But, as Rumi points out, these challenges are gifts, if we can learn to embrace them.

Who knows how the experiment will end. In the meantime, at least I get to be reminded of some wisdom as I tuck my own little gift into bed each night. Namaste.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Surrender

This is not the post I expected to be my first of 2012. As 2011 came to a close, I was gathering my thoughts and taking notes around setting my intention for the year. I’m not big on “resolutions” — much like “diets,” they seem to be things that you take on temporarily, and I am much more about lasting change. But there are a variety of occasions that naturally lend themselves towards a fresh start, and the new year is certainly one of them. 2012 is a year of power, and I envisioned kicking it off with some visioning and goal setting, perhaps a burning bowl ritual or a cleanse, really starting the year off on the right foot.

Best laid plans. This year is definitely confirming my belief that it is a year of power, but not in the grounded and flowing way I was expecting. It has been much more like wading out into the ocean and getting knocked down by a wave, standing back up again just to be knocked flat by another wave. And another. And another. And another. There was a Friday night mid-January when I was standing in my kitchen sobbing hysterically, frantic with how overwhelmed I was, with how much my life appeared to be spiraling out of control. Something broke in me that night, something that made me realize that no, truly, I am not going to get it all done. In fact, I’m not going to come even close to getting it all done. And some days that will well and truly suck. But most of the time it will genuinely be okay. It was a moment of surrender, and man, did it ever feel good.

Surrender can be a frightening concept. It leaves us feeling so vulnerable, so raw, so exposed, so powerless. But there is incredible power in surrender, in letting go, in getting out of the way. I find myself often believing the fallacy that I am somehow in control, which when you consider that I live with a toddler, a baby, and a husband is rather humorous. But when I let go, I allow myself to be carried along by the flow. And perhaps more importantly, I allow myself to step more fully into the moment and savor what it is that life is offering up for me right now.

Three stomach flus, one flu flu, and countless other ailments and challenges later, I look back over the last two months and recognize that there was a shift that needed to take place for me. A shift away from “holding it all together” to “going with the flow.” A shift from needing to get it all done to handling whatever is right in front of me. A shift from needing to be anything approaching perfect to just showing up as the best me I can muster in the moment. And some days it works better than others — it is definitely a work in progress, as with everything else in my life. But somewhere in the midst of this chaos, I have found some peace. I am truly grateful for this path that I am walking through this life. It isn’t always easy, but it always brings me the gifts that I need. I have never been more clear about what my priorities are, about what is truly important, about what I have to be grateful for, about how blessed I am. So thank you 2012 for your ocean of power. I surrender. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Spirit Time

Meditation

Movement

Reading

Spirit Time On The Go

Recommended Reading

What is mindful parenting?

Recommended Reading

Mindful Parenting e-Bundle Sale!

Which way do I lean?

It’s All My Fault!

Do you really mean it?

Ostrich-ization

Spider Boy and Bean Revisited

The Guest House

Surrender