I am in wonder

This morning I am in a state of wonder at the beauty of the world my older son constructs for himself. 

In his world:

* a large ball of multicolored play dough placed on a stick becomes a flower

* a rock becomes a frog

* a collection of beans becomes a world of dirt and trees

* the paper recycling becomes snow

* hands become spiders ...

Most of these become gifts:

*"Can I give this flower to Aspen?"

*"I have a little frog for you, Mom."

*"Can Boden play in my dirt?"

*"Will you come in the snow?"

*"I need to give this spider to Elizabeth."

I invite each parent to put aside his and her ideas about what balls of dough, rocks, beans, paper, and wiggling fingers means to you and instead ask your child what these things are to him or her. 

My child is far more than a person learning from me the right vs. wrong things to do in this world. My child is a world unto himself. And right now I am in wonder at his world and all the beauty therein. 

Be in wonder at the world in your child, and then explore your world through his or her eyes.

Virtue of the week: Friendliness

I am happy to be posting again on this blog. Now that I have a laptop and can type in the living room, where my children relax and play, I will have an easier time writing. 

Friendliness and community:

As a young childless couple, my husband and I bought our first home based on the "this is it" feeling we shared when we saw it. It was an adorable 70-year old cottage with mature perennial beds that just about anyone would have fallen in love with. With one 10-month-old child, we bought our second home based on finances, we both agreed it would be a good investment. Today, with one preschooler and one baby, we plan to buy our third home based on community. 

The home is far from ideal: It lacks the curb appeal that attracted us to our first home and the price and location that attracted us to our second home. It does have, however, wonderful neighbors. 

Already, my older son has friends with whom he goes on trips to the zoo. Already, I have neighbors who call me when they need a break from their children (and vice versa). Already, I've connected with others about the importance of nurturing the souls of our children. During the afternoons, the parents are outside with the youner children so they can play and get their energy out between school and dinner. In the evenings, the children ride bikes and play kick the can in the street. 

Sure, the home needs new flooring, faucets, doors, and other minor repairs here and there ... but it comes with features no builder could customize: a feeling of community. 

Many families today live away from their extended members, a built-in community, and haven't made the time to connect with their neighbors. They're trying to do it all on their own. The mythical wonder mom or dad feels like her biggest tool is her blackberry. My ideal of a wonder mom or dad's biggest tool is her community of support.

My focus the next two weeks is on community and relationships as my family explores the virtue of friendliness. 

Virtue of the Week: Joy!

Joy is the childlike glee that bubbles up from within us. It radiates from the Natural Child, the part of our Child ego state that is spontaneous and relishes life. Joy is more than a state of unbridled gladness and glee, however, it is an energy. Joy's energy is expressed in many ways.

"I don't know how to dance," my three-year-old son says. Already, I see in him concern about doing things the "right" way and want to give him ideas to overcome his young internal critic.

"Dancing is smiling with your arms and feet," I tell him. "Smile with your body and you are dancing. See!" I start to wave my arms and kick my feet.

What? chimes an internal voice I recognize as my Critical Parent, the structuring an reprimanding component of my Parent ego state. You can't mean that? You can't dance yourself ... I turn up the music and toss aside the seasoned critic as my son and I kick and dance with joy about the kitchen.

This week, the virtue of focus in my home is joy! Follow my family's journey to shift any energy we direct toward petty criticism of ourselves and others to the expression of joy. I'll explore how energy directed towards others (even when "true") that results in gossip and backbiting squelches our own capacity to feel and express joy.

On this Monday morning my son and I will focus on the letters J, O, and Y with this worksheet and we'll define joy. I am curious about his joy. I can see clearly the joy in his face, but I wonder what words he'll choose to discuss this virtue.

Tonight I'll design a joyful soundtrack for us to listen to. You can help! Post below the songs that bring you joy ... the ones that bring a tap to your foot and a wiggle to your hips.

Where can you use a little more joy in your life? Was your Thanksgiving meal joyous? Let's talk! And if you have pictures that captivate the word "joy" then link us to them in the comments.

Tuning in to our Children

Tune in to simplify parenting and enjoy our children!

Four months ago, my family moved half-way across the country. My three week old rode with me in one car while my husband drove our other son and two dogs in another. I led the way and stopped when the newborn baby needed food, which often was every 30 to 45 minutes.

You may imagine that this was a long, annoying trip dictated by the cries of a child who'd rather be held than harnessed. You're right about one thing: the journey was long. And it was enjoyable!

The secret? I tuned in ...

Like most breastfeeding mothers, my milk comes in just before my child cries, or even starts to fidgit, to let me know he's hungry.

While driving, I noticed my milk's arrival 5 to 7 minutes before my son would cry. When I listened to my body and pulled off at the next exit, I often stopped the car just as he was starting to fuss. Then we'd sit in the car as I peacefully fed him.

There were times, however, that I didn't stop.

"He can't be hungry AGAIN!" I protested internally as I kept driving.

Those were the times that he'd work up to an anguish-enducing cry. I learned more than ever on that three-day trip to trust whatever it is that bonds me -- body, mind, and soul -- to my child.

I respond emotionally and physically to both of my sons.

"When you're staring at Boden, do you ever feel like there's a third person in the room?" I asked my husband yesterday.

"Honey, this sounds a little sci-fi."

"Seriously, when I look at him -- and Wesley -- and we're engaged with each other I feel like the space between us is energized and electric, like it's something else all together."

"I am serious, that's one of those sci-fi thoughts about the mysteries of how the world works."

"I don't know if it's how the world works or just me. I hope it's how the world works and that everyone feels this. It could be described as a third person, or one less person; that something between us is created or that something between us is dropped and we are one."

"Yes, I know that feeling."

We both know the value of tuning in to our children. Beyond listening to them and watching them, there is something else going on, some other way that we communicate. Somehow, we are linked to them. When we tune in to it, our role as parents is easier.

Last week our family went to a museum. My husband and I wanted to stay until it closed so we could listen to live jazz on the lawn. Normally, this is just the thing that our older son would enjoy. But something told us staying was not a good idea. We thought about ways around our gut feeling and knew that it could work. But at what price? we wondered. Ultimately, we listened to the little voice inside each of us and went home before the music started.

"I'm hungry! I want to go home!" Wesley screamed on the way home. "Eeeee!!!" he shrilled. My ear throbbed.

My husband and I looked at each other and didn't need words to know the other's thoughts: We made the right choice.

As parents, there are books, gadgets, methods, etc., that can ease our work. The best tool, however, allows us to prevent some of that work.

When we tune in to the parent-child bond, we simplify our parenting. And we make the long journey before us enjoyable!

If Parents Wore Capes

If parents wore capes,
we wouldn't have a cleaner house,
but we would be more inclined to ...

chaseour children into chance rain
roof a last-minute retreat
play impromptu peek-a-boo
snuggle them close and stare at the stars

If parents wore capes, we'd
dry the tears
draw the laughs
capture the wind
and help them sail ...

*****

Wonder Moms and Dads don't wear capes to move faster and be stronger, because how much we "do" does not make us "wonder"ful. Nope, we wear capes to "be" in wonder at the world with our children -- and at the world withIN our chidlren.

Parenting With Abundance

As I started to move forward in applying to classes next semester and to doctoral programs for next year I started to panic.

"How can I possibly have the time and energy to go to school and take care of the children, and clean the house, and have time for myself, and devote time to my husband?!?!"

The reality is that I have investigated my potential schedules, talked to current students, and know that there is time for me to add classes and research to my schedule. I'll need a little help here and there, but nothing that a pre-screened babysitting service can't help me secure with comfort. So why panic?

Whenever I find a feeling that doesn't seem to fit the situation I ask myself, "How is this familiar?"

"How is panic about time and energy familiar?" I remembered. I'll spare the details, but will say that most everything we did when I was growing up came at the price of being "overwhelming" "exhausting" etc. Even today there are people in my family who report being overwhelmed and exhausted every time I talk to them.

I remember the first time I heard someone say, "The more you do, the more energy you have." I thought, "No, the more you do, the more exhausted you are."

My role as a stay-at-home mom is a great test-bed for the theory. I find again and again that I function better, have more energy, and get more accomplished in all aspects of my life when I have more to do. Having more to do requires me to structure my days better. It also encourages me to make the most of the time I have. I wake up earlier, spend more time getting ready, find I have time to read, get the children ready, have breakfast prepared, etc. ... I tend to be a step ahead rather than a step behind. And I also cut things out that I don't need: TV especially comes to mind.

So, even though I know that the course work I am hoping for will likely give me more energy and, yes, more time, I panicked.

In essence, I have a long-held belief that time and energy come in very limited quantitites when in reality, except for unusual situations, they are not only abundant, but increase in abundance with proper attention and care.

Somehow, despite evidence, the old thoughts remain part of my psychological environment. And, somehow, I was willing to stop myself from moving forward by focusing on the old beliefs rather than trust my own reality testing.

I think that I'm not the only one in this situation. I think many of us believe that various commodities -- time, energy, love, attention, care, guidance, etc. -- are limited when in truth they are abundant. And I believe that we let these outdated beliefs stop us from moving forward.

I suggest that if we listen to how we are stopping ourselves (what we say in our heads to and about ourselves/others/environment) that we will discover where our perceived scarcities lie. And if we start clearning them out and replacing them with perceived abundances we'll find what we want and need to move forward with our dreams.

*** This is a very rough draft of my thoughts, but in light of the fact that I haven't posted in so long, I am eager to click "publish now" and then come back to poilsh.***

Let's Talk About Scarcity

I've been thinking about scarcity and how we let ideas about scarcity stop us from reaching for our goals. The following posts will be a series of questions. Please respond with your answers in the comments section.

Fill in the blank:

Growing up, my mom/dad/other important figure complained, "I don't have enough _____(A)_____ to _____(B)_____."

A: Time, Money, Energy, Intelligence, Beauty, etc.
B: Fill in blank with dream, goal, etc. Examples: Go back to school. Feel safe. Hang with that crowd. Apply for that job. Build a boat. Go on vacation.

Don't let the above examples stop you from going with your first answer. These are just examples, there is no wrong response.

Or perhaps you heard the reverse: "I'm too _____(A)_____ to _____(B)_____."

Feel free to answer this way too.

Thank you for taking the time to answer. Further posts will tie this in to the theme of scarcity and how we are stopping ourselves and teaching our children to stop themselves from reaching for their dreams.

Joy in Prayer; An Update on Reverence

A butterfly emerges:

When our son was younger, my husband and I hoped that he would want to pray rather than pray because we wanted him to pray. We made prayer time a joyous time and avoided telling him how prayer should sound or look. We delighted as he shouted ("We hear your enthusiasm!"), sang ("We hear your creativity!"), and danced to prayer ("We see your joy!"). Little did we know that this joy was a silken cocoon.

At three years of age, my husband and I decided to cultivate reverence during prayer: we wondered what would become of the joy that our son expressed so freely in his loud voice, his made-up tunes, and silly dances as we showed him how to sit and sound.

"Who would like to pray first?" I asked as my husband and I sat holding imaginary frogs on our son's bed.

This was the third night of our focus on reverence. During the first night, our son sat still for about 20 seconds. We congratulated him for his stillness. The second night, he wasn't still, but he was quiet -- for about 30 seconds. We congratulated him for his silence.

"Me! I want to pray!" my son exclaimed.

I wondered how this would go.

I watched as my son placed his cupped hands where his crossed legs met, sat up, closed his eyes, tilted his head upward, and said in a voice so soft and sweet that each word fluttered lightly across my heart, "Oh, God, guide me, protect me ..."

My husband and I looked at each other, smiled, and closed our eyes to better capture the moment.

When our son finished praying, he looked at us with enthusiasm and beamed with joy.

"That was beautiful," my husband said as he hugged him.

"Would you like to say the next prayer?" I asked my husband.

"I want to," our son said. "It's my turn again."

"OK."

Again, without prompting, he settled into a reverent position, softened his voice and spoke words that flowed like butterflies from his heart and through his lips.

"I enjoyed your reverent prayer," I said as I hugged him.

"Me too," my husband said. "I'll pray next."

"No, no more prayers," my son said.

"OK, this is a really good place to stop," my husband said.

My husband and I caught each other's eyes and with a knowing look said, "But this is just the beginning ... "

Somehow, letting him cultivate his joy for prayer, created the cocoon for reverence ... we saw it emerge and take flight.

Virtue of the Week: Reverence

Fertile soil: fertile soul

"Reverence," I explain to my three-year-old son, "is holding a frog in your hands."

"A frog?" he asks. "I think it's when I hold a lobster."

"OK, a lobster. Reverence is holding a lobster, or any animal you choose to imagine, in your hands."

My son clasps his hands together and says, "I got it! See? He's right there, Mommy." He opens his hands to share with me his imaginary crustacean.

I could have told him, "Reverence is a calm respect similar to that which I observe in you when you are in and around nature." The frog example, however, held direct meaning. It gave him a specific body memory. It also told him how to hold his hands.

"It's time to pray. Do you have your lobster?"

"He's right here," my son said as he put his hands together and placed them in his lap.

"Are you ready to sit in reverence and pray?"

"Yes!"

*****
(At home.)

"Oh, God, guide me," I start a prayer.

"No, say, 'Oh, God, educate these children,'" my son interrupts.

"Sweetheart, when a person is praying, mommy listens and talks to God with her heart. Will you listen and talk to God with your heart when I pray?"

"With my heart?"

"Here," I said as I picked up his hand and put it to his chest, "do you feel that? That's your heart."

"Om, I want to talk to God with my mouth."

"OK, when it is your turn to pray, use your mouth. When others are praying, use your heart to listen and pray along."

*****

I don't know how one teaches reverence or prayerfulness to a child. I know how to encourage certain behaviors and obedience to our family rules ... but reverence, an inner respect that radiates outwards. How does one teach that? I prefer to think of it as something I am awakening in him ... I picture an emerging butterfly.

We can give him cues:
"Now is the time for reverence and prayerfulness," I can remind as we tuck him after stories and song.

He can observe it in others.
"Do you see that man? He is sitting and praying reverently."

He can hear the word when he shows reverence.
"I see you are looking at your pumpkin patch with awe and respect. Isn't it nice how the flower seemed to come from nowhere, but all along its potential was inside? There are many mysteries in life!"

"I see you sitting with your hands together in your lap as you listen to daddy praying, you are showing reverence."

*****

(During a service.)

"Mommy, I'm finished now," my son says -- loudly -- and not with his heart as someone else is praying. "I'm ready to go play with the toys."

"OK," I whisper into his ear. I take him by a hand and lead him to the toys. We sat on the floor and started a puzzle. "If you want to talk with your mouth as others are praying, then talk," I switch to a whisper, "like a butterfly."

"OK," he said in a whisper.

"Congratulations, I hear you talking like a butterfly!"

"I want to talk like a Wesley now."

*****

I want the word to have a meaning ... so I invited the outside (flogs and butterflies) in so that he can learn to bring the inside (calm respect and awe) out.

*****

Rather than sing "you are my sunshine" my then two-year-old son sang "you are my dirt, my only dirt ... ." Why? Well, he LOVED playing in dirt. One day, he replaced the word "dirt" with "God" and sang, "You are my God, my only God, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my God away."

I delighted in the fact that my son had spontaneously created a song about God, a song that showed me he equated God with the joys he gets from playing outside in nature's fertile soil.

As he sang, I sat in wonder -- with reverence -- at the fertility of his soul ...

I believe the reverence I have for the wonder that is my son will bring out in him his own calm respect and awe at the world around him, and its Creator: God, the Source of all things.

Structure Says 'I love you' and 'I See You'

... as you are and as you can be.

"I wish my parents had challenged me," a friend of mine said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah, no matter how I did in school, my grades -- even all Cs -- were fine with them. They never told me that I could do better than that. I'm kind of sad about it."

As we talked I imagine a climbing rose bush in full bloom.

"I get that. It's like they never said, 'I see your potential.' A gardener wouldn't challenge a plant to grow up a trellis if he didn't see its potential to climb. Helping children find their gifts and offering structure for them is central to parenting. Showing that we are OK with where they are and inspiring them to get to where they want to be says 'I love you' and 'I see your gifts'."

I heard, "You can be anything you want to be," growing up. I found it to be a crippling refrain primarily because I wasn't permitted to want. And I wasn't provided structure. (Luckily, there were a couple of trees in my environment so I found my own way.)

Growth requires a balance between nurture and structure, a balance between "I love you," "I see you" and here's your trellis, together you'll learn to climb it. One day you'll bloom.

What do you consider to be your natural gifts? Are you in bloom? One of the best ways to show our children how to bloom is to bloom ourselves: to know our gifts, and to use them.