Lightness into Darkness into Lightness

I had the pleasure this evening of practicing yoga with and listening to the teachings of Yogi Amrit Desai, Gurudev. As he spoke I frequently thought of my boys and how I can live my life in way that will impart some of these teachings to them.

As Gurudev spoke this evening he reminded us that light wouldn't be light without darkness and vice versa. He noted that light and dark do not fight and resist at sunrise and sunset, they simple shift from one to the other.

Within ourselves we fight darkness, our fears and weaknesses, by judging, comparing, and belittling ourselves - fighting darkness with more darkness. Instead we need to release our fears and be in the darkness in order to let in the light through our breath and being present in our bodies fully accepting where we are without judgment. When we practice this on the mat, we can take it out into the world.

I find that we often fight against being where we are by wanting to have more, be different, feel better, etc. Gurudev taught tonight that the more we seek and grasp, the less we are connected to ourselves.

As they continue to grow and face the ups and downs of life, I hope to support my boys in being where they are as they are, trusting in themselves, listening to their inner voice, and staying connected with their true selves.  The best way I can do this is to honor them where they are in each moment and to practice honoring myself as well. Easier said than done many days. :)

These teachings reminded me of the quote from the Buddha which has been in the forefront of my mind recently, "Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed. This is an ancient and eternal truth." To paraphrase this in the teachings of Gurudev tonight, darkness never ceases by darkness, but by light alone is healed.

Be where you are, accept the darkness and open to the light.
Namaste

Expectations

(photo credit)

Expectations can get us into hot water quickly. When we expect someone to behave in a certain manner and they don't, we feel confused, disappointed, and often hurt. Even when the change in behavior is positive, the unexpected divergence from the norm can throw us off.

I begin each of my yoga classes with a moment of brushing away our worries and expectations. I began to wonder today what expectations my yoga students may hold onto, what ones I hold onto, and how this impacts our experiences. Each class I teach evolves on its own as I integrate ideas I bring with the needs expressed by my students. For me it is a lovely dance of balance, trust, and inspiration.  I can only offer who I am, I have no control over (nor any desire to have) how anyone incorporates what I say and do into their lives.

There is a strange dichotomy in my life related to this. In yoga I simply offer the class for people to take whatever they need with no strings attached. But in my parenting and the trainings I offer as a school social worker, I expect my children and my staff to take away what I am specifically teaching them.

When I offer what I have without being attached to the outcome as in yoga, I feel at peace. When those offerings are made with attachment to the outcome, I so often feel frustrated and discouraged.

Hmmmmm...

Can I parent and teach in other realms as I do in yoga? Practicing aparigraha, non-attachment, non-clinging, allowing my children and staff to take what they need without being attached to the outcome. Honoring where they are rather than expecting them to be somewhere they are not. Allowing them to integrate the information as it makes sense for them.

I read weekly from Pema Chodron's Start Where You Are during mediation class and have just realized while writing this that I have compartmentalized the teaching of that title to my yoga life and forgotten to carry it into the rest of my life. Yoga is more than our time on the mat, it is how we live our lives united our minds and bodies, being present and honoring where we are and others are at any given moment.


So with gentleness and lovingkindness, as I always tell my students, I notice this. I will strive to keep it in the forefront of my perceptions, being more aware of my expectations and how they impact my interactions and reactions. May you as well.

Namaste

Stealing

Stealing is one of those things I have always thought of as clear cut and simple. Then, this week Michelle used Asteya - sanskrit for non-stealing - as our meditation focus. One of the affirmations she shared related to asteya was "I am whole and complete." As I contemplated this, I realized that stealing does not always related to a concrete item being taken.

We steal confidence from ourselves when we call ourselves stupid, judge ourselves harshly, or decide something about us is not good enough. When we dissect ourselves, accepting only what we see as good or attractive, we cannot be whole and complete. When we rely on others to provide approval for who we are, we steal from our sense of self-worth. We all have strengths and weaknesses and together they make us who we are.

As parents we unwittingly steal from our children when we fail to acknowledge the many things they do well and criticize their mistakes too harshly. We teach them to steal confidence from themselves as well by creating those negative messages that live in their minds and hearts.

Of course we will be critical and will need to redirect, reteach, and determine consequences for negative behavior at times. But when I look through the lens of asteya, I am encouraged even more to take those extra seconds to think about my words with care, to keep mistakes in perspective, and to acknowledge and apologize when I am wrong.

I want my children to lift up themselves and those with whom they interact. Therefore, I must model this for them at every opportunity. Whether it is showing gentleness with myself, with them, or with others, modeling lovingkindness and understanding teaches them not to steal someone else's confidence and self-worth as well as to value and nurture their own.

May we all awaken to the light of our true nature, fill our hearts with lovingkindness for ourselves, and spread it in all that we do.
Namaste

None of us get out of it alive

This is a quote from my aunt today, "None of us get out of it alive." What is it, you may ask? Life. Oh, the irreverence!!! And the laughter that followed.

We will all die at some point, we just don't know when that will be.  The question then arises ~ how do we live each day fully while still acknowledging our mortality and the fact that we could die at any time?

My aunt and I struggled with this question today as we discussed her cancer prognosis. It seems to be a paradox, but it reminds me of the yogic teachings of non-clinging, aparigraha. Accepting what is without holding on. Being present without trying to control the outcome of our actions. 

I had a visual image of walking a line and leaning from to the left, then right; moving from light to dark; from hopeful to hopeless. Then more irreverence..."weebles wobble, but they don't fall down." We all wobble along that line every day, although sometimes we dip too far into one side or the other, drowning in denial or darkness.

As I think about my life, I am reminded that truly all I have is this moment. Nothing else is guaranteed. Whether the moment is full of laughter and joy, pain and sorrow, or something in between, this moment is the only one I have. It can be difficult to stay present when I'm tired, frustrated, and at the end of my rope. It's easy to escape into drama, self-pity, or blaming others.

But what can I teach my children by practicing staying present, being in the moment, recognizing when to let things go? I can teach them trust, acceptance, and love. My daily struggles and successes as a mom and human being can be lessons for them and me.

I can teach them to honor and savor each moment, to rejoice in what they have, to know that they are loved, and that their love and lives make a difference to others.

It often takes the reality of loss to help us cherish what we have because it is so hard to wobble along that line, feeling each moment fully.

May this remind you (and me) to notice this moment and all that it has to offer, then with lovingkindness gently release it as we step into the next moment, should it be there.

Namaste

Truthfulness

Teaching truthfulness to my children has been an interesting and complicated journey. It seemed so easy at the outset - always tell the truth. But as they got a little older we began to set limits about telling the whole truth, such as when they said to someone, "You're fat." It is the truth, but then we taught them that we don't have to say everything we think even if it is the truth. There are also more tactful ways to tell the truth that don't hurt people's feelings. This gets a bit confusing when you're a little kid.

Then there are surprises. Is it lying when you tell a story to set up a surprise birthday party? It is, but it's for a good cause, right? Well, what about when my son's good cause is so he doesn't get in trouble? Same reasoning, but...

Telling the truth when it's hard to tell is especially tricky, for parents and kids.

When there's shaving cream all over the bathroom andmy son really wants to stay out of trouble because he was just being curious, that is a hard truth to tell.

When my son said he was doing his homework, but was really playing games on the computer and doesn't want to lose his new computer, that is a hard truth to tell.

When we were all looking forward to a trip and realized we couldn't go because we had to spend the money on house repairs, that was a hard truth to tell.

When my Grandma's cancer spread through her body and her choices were to live longer miserably or shorter more comfortably and I had to tell my boys she was going to die soon, that was a heart wrenching truth to tell.

I try to be a good model for truthfulness by admitting when I make mistakes and explaining why we are doing what we're doing. My biggest struggle is not overreacting to my children's mistakes so they will continue to tell the truth, even when it's hard.

Truthfulness in yogic philosophy is called Satya. It pervades every aspect of our lives from answering a simple "How are you?" to owning up to a big mistake. Our children are watching us and learning. No matter what we are saying to them they follow our actions, so we have to act thoughtfully.

Balance

Balance is an ever-shifting ideal. I have a dear friend who once expressed his exasperation at everyone telling him to work on balance. It seemed an impossible thing to always be in balance. In exploring this idea of balance we decided that balance is different every day and even hour to hour, moment to moment. Certain situations require us to give much of ourselves, while others allow us to receive a great deal. Rarely do they ever seem evenly balanced like weights on a scale.

As we move from the school year to summer finding the balance between work and play is its own challenge. I wrote a blog in April for Mile High Mamas about Being vs. Doing. I believe our kids should have carefree summer days to wonder and explore...a being sort of summer. Sometimes, however, my kids have a different idea.

Walkingstick is ten this year. He loves the structure and predictability of school and often struggles to ease into the free flow of summer. He solved this dilemma this summer by landing a part in a summer children's theatre production that requires rehearsals six mornings a week. It gives him busy mornings, plenty of time to play in the afternoons, and then more structure two nights a week with baseball practice and games.

Gigglebox is on the other end of the spectrum. He wants to be home with mom or dad and doesn't want any activities except baseball, which of course we are at with him. It's been a month now and he seems perfectly content with this arrangement.

Then there is me. I am writing, teaching yoga classes, and being a stay at home mom this summer. Trying to squeeze in time to write and play with the boys has been more challenging than I expected. At times I get focused and want to blaze through the writing and other times I just pack up the boys and we head for the pool or some other adventure.

Dad seems happy to be at work most days, he's a structure guy like walkingstick. He is joining in the fun by coaching the boys' baseball teams and taking a few days off here and there to play.

I believe we are all finding our own balance this summer. Somedays more than others, but then that's the point isn't it...staying grounded amidst the chaos and the calm, the light breeze and the blustery day, finding the balance within ourselves regardless of what is going on around us. Not altogether easy, but a worthy goal nonetheless.

Namaste

ps - if you'd like to see walkingstick live in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland it starts July 13 at The Aurora Fox Theater

Living with an open heart

Living with an open heart...seems so easy on the surface. Be open, accepting, compassionate...easy in those moments of comfort...harder in those moments of difficulty.

In meditation and yoga we often talk about opening our hearts, letting go of barriers, being compassionate to all. In those brief peaceful moments it feels attainable. Yet when we go out into the world and face the challenges of our daily lives, keeping an open heart is a challenge.

When frustrated or angry, my response is often to shut down my heart, build a barrier, and refuse to feel compassionate. Those habitual patterns seem easier than facing the difficulties within myself or my relationships. But, as Pema Chodron says, if I do something different, anything different, I can change those patterns and keep my heart open.

Sometimes its as simple as breathing...yet simple as it is, it is often difficult to do. Sometimes it's laughing at the absurdity of the situation or of my own response to it. Mostly it's letting go of my expectations, changing my perspective, and softening the rigidity that sets in when facing difficulties.

Taking a moment to put myself in the shoes of the other person, trying to see things from their perspective, is a huge part of my practice of compassion. A friend recently asked me if understanding the other person's situation justifies their inappropriate behavior. I of course said no, but if I can keep my heart open to understand and feel compassion for a person who has hurt me or someone I care about, then perhaps the next time I make a huge mistake or a small misstep I can be compassionate with myself as well. We all know we are harder on ourselves than anyone else and compassion must start within.

So why try to live with an open heart? It is, after all, a difficult journey. I believe that through practicing living with an open heart, mistakes and all along the way, that I can change the world one moment of compassion at a time. I can teach and model this for my children, pass it on to those with whom I interact every day, and have positive impact on the world. Idealistic, yes. I don't expect to change everything and everyone, but those little ripples and waves of compassion flowing out into the universe will grow and influence each life they touch.

Getting stuck

Last week a friend posted a comment that she was having one of those days where she was seeing more of what she didn't have than what she did have. We all have those moments, days, or weeks where we get stuck and cannot seem to get unstuck. It seemed a simple, honest statement at the time, but it blossomed into a powerful teaching tool about perspective and attitude.

That evening one of my sons began lamenting about not getting the brownie he wanted and was nearly inconsolable with the unfairness of it all as he went to bed. The other was frustrated with a situation that wasn't going right for him at school. My friend's comment popped into my head and sparked an attitude adjustment for us all. I talked with them about having a choice to focus on what they didn't get and what went wrong or to put their attention on all the opportunities and things they did have and that had gone right. As we listed off the many positives in their day, the negatives began to seem quite small and insignificant. When offered that seemingly simple choice, both were able to move on and let go of the drama of the moment. Getting unstuck.

I so appreciate that my friend shared her struggle that day. Without her honesty I would not have had the inspiration to teach that concept to my sons. It is not easy to admit when we are struggling or stuck. I find when I do, others are there to support me and find a connection with their own struggles. Admitting frailty and failure, while difficult, helps me to be more compassionate and gentle with myself and others, and to remember to embrace all that I do have.

A nostalgic heart

Being one of those people to whom nostalgia comes easily, I frequently struggle with not clinging to the past. The practice of Aparigraha allows me to raise my awareness of this and to work toward being present each moment here and now. Holidays seem especially challenging for me in this practice.

As I reflect this Thanksgiving morning on all the blessings of my life, my heart is both full and saddened. I have so much for which to be thankful and yet part of me longs for those Thanksgivings of old. So many precious memories of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, foods, afternoon naps, football games, loud rounds of cards, and most of all laughter and joy. Nothing was every perfect, but it is so sweet to soften those edges of memory by letting go of the imperfections.

And as I write, the big ah-ha moment comes...the non-clinging, aparigraha, has to do with both the good and the bad. I so often think of it only as clinging to what I want, forgetting that forgiveness and letting go of difficult times is a vital part of the practice. By not holding on to the hurt, we allow old wounds heal making room in our heart for more love and kindness.

I see this same nostalgic heart in both of my boys. It surfaces as they struggle to give away old books or toys they no longer use, pictures they drew, crafts they made, or even sticks and rocks they found on hike one day. The memories of the day and the people to whom they connect those objects create such strong attachments for them. They often feel as though they will lose that memory and connection if they no longer have the object. As I look at the objects around our house that were my grandmothers or my moms, I'm thinking it must be in our genes.

Today I am missing my grandma and the home her heart provided me.  I feel myself holding on, clinging to the desire to have it all like it was before. But as I listen to my sons chatting, watch them enjoy the Thanksgiving Day parade that my grandfather loved, smell the foods of the day beginning to simmer, I realize that like every Thanksgiving, this one too will be its own special day. It will have memories and experiences we will talk about for years to come. I just don't know yet what they'll be.

I continue to strive to be present for each moment, honoring the old memories while creating new ones. Living the practice and modeling that for my sons.

Having enough

I just read a blog by Anne at About Freelance Writing about sufficiency. Living with what we have and recognizing that what we have is enough. It is a powerful reminder for all of us. In yogic philosophy we call this practice Aparigraha.

I have been contemplating this practice a good deal over the past few weeks. Wondering if we are teaching our children what we really want them to learn in relation to having enough. We talk about it, but do we practice it?

As we approach the holiday season we are bombarded by catalogs full of fabulous treats and toys we all would enjoy but most likely don't need. Typically, the boys pour over them creating huge lists of things they want. They become overwhelmed and aparigraha is the farthest thing from their minds. This year I've taken to tossing the catalogs into recycling before they can even take a peek. It has taken the focus off all that stuff and decreased the clutter around the house. It has helped all of us stay more grounded.

The next challenge is how to move into all the holiday celebrations and maintain this practice. Stay tuned to see how we do and feel free to share any of your ideas.

Lessons from the Universe

I am known for telling other people that their illnesses are their bodies way of telling them to slow down, listen, or take a look inside. Being like most people, however, it is always easier to see these things from the outside than from the inside.

Last week I started getting sick. I kept going a bit, but did take a couple of days off of work. I thought I was getting better, so charged ahead again only to find myself worse off than I was before within a very short time. Still not quite getting it, I tried to keep up with my regular routine until the chills and fever sent me to bed...for hours.

Even though I know I should just stop, I continue to think I can do a little bit more than I am. Case in point, I'm sitting here at the computer writing when my body is telling me to take a nap before the boys get home from school.

Some lessons take longer than others to learn. The universe usually gives us lots of opportunities to practice the ones with which we are struggling. So, rather than continue on, I think I'll listen to the universe, my body, and my own advice and go take a nap. :)

What lessons does the universe keep sending your way?

Infinite Possibilities

I look at my boys everyday and wonder what amazing things they will do as they grow older. Every day I see them learn and grow and change. The possibilities for what they will become are endless. As I glanced through The Parent's Tao Te Ching I came across this section:

At birth your children are filled with possibilities.
It is not your job to limit these possibilities.
Do not say, "This and that are possible for you.
These other things are not."
They will discover on their own what is and is not possible.
It is your job to help them stay open
to the marvelous mysteries of life.


It may be interesting to ask,
"What limitation have I, unthinking, 
taken upon myself?"
It is very difficult for your child's horizons
to be greater than your own.
Do something today that pushes
against your own preconceptions.
Then take your child's hand
and gently encourage her to do the same.

How do you encourage your children to find their gifts and talents and be true to themselves?

Highs and Lows

Our meditation reading this week was, "Don't be swayed by external circumstances." Easy to say, not so easy to do.

There are so many things in our lives we cannot control and perhaps not even influence. We can be tossed about on a current of emotions if we let our center be guided be the whims of loved ones, strangers, or events across the world. On the other hand, we may appear cold-hearted if we don't respond at all to the joys and tragedies happening around us.

So how can we be responsive and keep our balance at the same time?

I remember reading an interview with the Dalai Lama. He was asked if he ever gets angry? His response was that of course he does. But rather than hold on to that anger, he said he lets it touch his heart lightly and lets it go. It is the same with every emotion and experience.

I try to practice this (emphasizing the word practice!) and to teach this to my children. As they struggle with peers, teachers, or circumstances beyond their control, it is a good lesson to keep your balance by finding your center. Experiencing and observing what arises without clinging to it. When we get swept away by the struggles or the successes in our lives, we can crash hard when things do not end up exactly as we thought they would. Things that seem positive can have unintended negative consequences. Things that seem negative may have a silver lining.

We can only be here in this moment as present as possible, observing, learning, experiencing, and moving on to the next.

Do you know where your center is? Do you know when you are grounded? How?

Raising a compassionate heart

As a social worker and a yoga teacher, empathy and compassion are always in the forefront of my mind as I navigate through life. I have worked to weave this perspective into my parenting over the years and this week discovered that you really do reap what you sow.

My dear grandmother died a year ago this week. I have missed her greatly, but she had an amazing life and was just shy of ninety when she died. I have been thinking about this anniversary coming for several weeks, but had not mentioned it to my sons.

As the morning of this anniversary dawned I wavered on talking about it with them, not wanting to upset them as they headed off to school. After much thought,  I decided to share this information them because they were so close to her and are such intuitive children that they would know something was up.

As we talked, both of their faces saddened, but neither became too upset. I expected them to say something about how much they missed her, but to my surprise they both responded with care and concern for how I was feeling.

They gave me hugs and then walking stick, with his big lovely heart, said to me, "You know where she is mom...right there." With that he pointed to my heart. As you can imagine big tears rolled down my cheeks. She is in my heart, and in theirs, and her love and kindness will be with us always.

Sharing, teaching, and modeling empathy and compassion are some of the greatest gifts we can give to our children and ourselves. It doesn't mean we never feel angry or frustrated, we just try to use compassion and empathy to work through it and to see what is on the other side.

Babies don't drive cars

My darling niece, Nutmeg, turned sixteen a few weeks ago (and may be mortified that I am writing this blog after she reads it although I did use an alias, albeit an easily decoded one [@Nutmeg: there are fun words in that sentence just for you ;)]). She was beyond thrilled to be getting her driver's license and hitting the road on her own. Her mom, on the other hand, was experiencing a bit of ambivalence, to say the least.

Nutmeg is a very responsible, level-headed girl. She has good judgement, common sense, and is an excellent driver. My husband even trusted her with his brand new car after she'd only been driving with her permit a few months. That said, in her mama's heart she is still that little baby she brought home from the hospital sixteen years ago.

Upon contemplating the prospect of her baby driving from Boulder to Westminster...on the highway...in the evening...by herself, the mama bear inside started to rise up. She emailed me, "Babies aren't supposed to drive away from their mamas!" And she is absolutely right! Except that her baby is now sixteen and is supposed to drive away, but also to come home.

So how do we let go without going crazy? Little by little. By practicing Aparigraha (Sanskrit for non-clinging). Learning when to hold on and when to let go, when to supervise and when to trust, taking small risks and leaps of faith, teaching our children the skills they need and recognizing that each little step of independence is a letting go.

For Nutmeg, that whole year of driving with a permit was part of this process...plus the fifteen years of parenting she received before that. Her parents have built a fabulous foundation and strong roots for her, the sky is the limit for how and where she will grow. As parents we work to build that strong foundation day by day and then have to trust that our kids will use those roots to ground themselves as they test out their wings and fly (or in this case drive). We are still there to catch them when they stumble or fall and help them work through their mistakes. Little by little means just that, baby steps for the kids and the parents. We are all learning together.

Sweet Mama's Boys

My boys have always been mama's boys. Some might think that's a bad thing, but I love the close bond we have together. Now they definitely adore their daddy, love to spend time with him, and revel in their weekly boys' night when I go to teach yoga and they get to do boy things. But deep in their hearts they are mama's boys. This week they both turned on the sweet talk to show me just that at very unexpected times.

My little giggle box and I have an hour or so each week when we hang out together while big brother is at choir practice. This week we were chatting and snacking when out of the blue he turned to me and said, "Mom, you mean everything to me." There was such earnestness in his face and voice, it nearly brought me to tears. His little heart was on his sleeve and mine just melted. Later when I was tucking him in he said it again. Adding, "I really mean it, Mom."

The next day, coincidentally, big brother turned on his charm. He was out in the yard playing one variety of ball or another, as is usually at our house. I came out to enjoy the sunshine and began to admire the fall flowers in our garden. Between the mums, hyacinths, and roses, the shades of pink and red were stunning. I commented on how beautiful the flowers were and my silver tongued walking stick turned to me with his big brown eyes and said, "The only flower I see is the one standing next to me." I laughed, as usual, and gave him a big hug. As cheesy as it was, at that moment it was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.

I am so grateful to have these two sweet boys with their big hearts and tenderness. They help me remember to be in the moment as present as I can be, taking in all that they and life has to offer. They will continue to grow and become more and more independent, but as they do I trust that they will continue to have that special place in their hearts for their mama.

Finding balance

Flipping through The Parents Tao Te Ching this evening I came to Number 42 - Finding Balance. It fits so much for this day of imperfection and struggling with what is or isn't and how to best be there in those difficult moments.

There are so many paradoxes in parenting
that it is difficult to find balance.
Some don't even try.
They just plunge ahead 
ignoring the subtle whispers of wisdom.
Others try half-heartedly, but resort to old methods
when they get confused.
But some hear wisdom's quiet voice
and make it their own. 


They find strength in softness,
power in flexibility,
perfection in mistakes,
success n failure,
clarity in confusion,
and love in letting go.
                *

Parenting paradoxes abound.
Don't let appearances deceive you.
Things may not be at all as they seem.
What's going on with your children right now?
Are you sure?
Or are you just making assumptions?
Buried in the most difficult of times are polished gems.
Lurking beneath serene surfaces 
lie turbulent waters.
Stay balanced.

Namaste

Grasshopper and the beginner's mind

As I watch my boys find the wonder in a grasshopper hanging on the edge of a chair on our patio, I am reminded of the openness of a child's mind and spirit. My sweet boys have shown me this so many times over the years, although I do not always recognize it right away.

My youngest son and I went walking at a nature preserve this morning. As we strolled along the path the scent of sun warmed earth washed over me, bringing me back to my childhood. I stopped and brought the scent to my son's attention. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and said, "Mom, that smells wonderful!" Then, to my surprise, he told me he was really wanting to cry and was trying to hold back his tears. When I inquired as to why, he replied, "It's just so beautiful." Then my tears began to flow with him.

It is easy to forget that our children have not had all of the experiences we have had. It is easy to discount their wonder. It is so utterly fulfilling to step inside that wonder to see a grasshopper hanging on the edge of the chair as if for the first time again.

Being present in this moment with our beginner's mind. Remembering we have seen grasshoppers and smelled the earth many times in our lives, but we have not see this grasshopper or smelled this patch of earth in this moment ever before. Allowing ourselves to see, hear, feel, and touch whatever our experiences are free of the judgement and expectations that prevent us from being fully present.

Allowing vs. struggling

I've been reading a book that was sitting on my bed stand collecting dust for longer than I care to admit (so I won't) called Stretching Lessons by Sue Bender. It leaped out at me from the shelf at Barnes and Nobles some time ago so I bought it. Apparently, I've been a bit resistive to reading it as I've even packed it on a few trips, but never managed to crack it open...until this week of course. I guess we really can only hear (or in this case read) the things we need to when we are really ready.

The content that has struck a chord with me is Sue's realization that she continually struggles for all of her successes, even when she doesn't need to. She discusses taking a "stretching class" and is opened to the possibility of allowing things to happen rather than struggling with them.

As I struggle with the demands and challenges of motherhood, I am realizing that I really do too often struggle. This seems especially true as the boys get older. I'm pushing and pulling and trying to get to some destination that apparently is not such a big priority for everyone else. This concept of allowing instead of struggling seems like a good next step to practice. I'm pretty good at the struggling, so a new skill seems like a good idea.

As I listened to one of my favorite authors, Pema Chodron, today this concept came up again. She described how everything becomes so small and narrow when we have pain and struggle against it rather than facing it. This is so amazingly true! My view is unbelieveably narrow when the sock on the floor, the dishes on the counter, or the time on the clock are the only things I can see. My vision without my glasses really is nearsighted, but I can apparently still be nearsighted even with my glasses on!

So, how do I go about practicing allowing? I guess the first step is to notice when I'm struggling. From there I can begin to step back, broaden my perspective, open my heart, and practice allowing. I'm thinking laughing is going to be a big part of this process. Laughing at myself and the crazy things I get worked up about will be a great first step. Onward, I go...(giggle, giggle)

Giggle box and walking stick cut a rug

A couple of weeks ago we were at a reception celebrating my cousin's wedding. When the dancing music came on little giggle box said, "Come dance with me, Mama." So off we went. We spun and twirled and shook our hips. Then he turned on the real show and started his fast tapping feet with the wild arm accompaniment. It was so cute and funny and really proud of himself.

Initially, big brother walking stick said he was only a "one foot dancer." He demonstrated by sliding his right foot to the side and back several times. What a goof ball! When giggle box found himself in the center of a large circle showing off his moves, walking stick decided it was time to get into the act. He slipped onto the dance floor and began to draw the crowd toward him. Feeling the rhythm, he created moves I'd never seen before. What a hoot to watch him experiment and strut his stuff.

My little giggle box was a bit under the weather and did not have the stamina to keep up with big brother. After getting his groove on for a while, he got a foot rub from mama and a snuggle from dad and crashed.

Walking stick continued on for a couple of hours working the crowd. He was so engaging with his dancing that at one point the wedding photographer took him off to the side for his own little photo shoot. I cannot wait to see those pictures!

There is something about dancing that allows us to explore and create. It was a delight to see the freedom my boys felt as they slid, shimmied, stomp, and swayed to the beat. When we put down our armor and flow with the music, our souls revel in the joy of the moment.