It's amazing how we all handle the challenges life throws at us in different ways. For the most part I am constantly amazed at the strength and perseverence I am honored to witness from the people in my life.
My dear aunt was thrown another curve ball in her journey through ovarian cancer. Her doctors unexpectedly diagnosed her with three brain tumors and whooshed her off for brain surgery the next day. In the brief in between time she said to me, "I guess I have another lesson to learn." An unbelievably optimistic and courageous response in the face of such daunting news. I suggested neon signs were a more effective means of communicating what we need to learn, but the universe apparently thought otherwise.
The thing about her perspective is that is a good reminder that we all have lessons to learn in this process. We also have choices about how we will respond to this new challenge before us. Choices about how we support her and each other, whether we hold hope or give up, whether we view the struggle as part of the journey or as an unbearable burden, and whether we remember to treasure each moment with the ones we love valuing them for who they truly are or buy into the roles and stories we have created for ourselves and each other. Our responses impact how we will come through this crisis as well as how she will.
Sharing all of this with my sons has been both difficult and beautiful. Telling them what was happening seemed brutal and scary when everything was so up in the air. Yet they responded with tears and hope and an immediate desire to see her and support her. They have been able to go on with their days while still offering love, support, and understanding to each other and to me when one of us was struggling. They have shown me that they can be as strong and courageous in the face of adversity as my dear aunt has been.
For everyone facing adversity, no matter how big or small:
May you be safe.
May you be happy.
May you be healthy.
May you have peace.
May you awaken to the light of their true nature.
May you be free.
Namaste
Reflecting on the PRACTICE of parenting through the lens of yogic philosophy. Cultivating compassion and keeping my sense of humor while balancing the challenges of parenthood.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
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
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
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Life Lessons
The opportunity to learn and grow is ever present in our lives. From miniscule to massive, joy to pain, health to illness, life lessons abound. The opportunity to learn and grow is ever present.
Gigglebox recently had a lovely opportunity presented to him with so many lessons available in the process – honesty, patience, responsibility, kindness, and gratitude to name a few. He had received a long coveted iPod for Christmas and had been very thoughtful about keeping track of it (they are sooooo tiny now) and using it appropriately. Then last week at school he put it in his pocket with a bit of haste and it ended up falling out unbeknownst to him at the time.
Later in the day he noticed it was missing. He searched his classroom, backpack, and locker to no avail. Within a short time of coming home, Gigglebox told me he had lost his iPod. We problem solved a bit about where it could be and how he might find it, but also discussed that there was a chance he wouldn’t. He was very sad and I was sad for him. I was also frustrated, but working hard to keep my compassion out ahead of that.
As it was Friday afternoon he was going to have to wait the entire weekend before he could look for it again at school. This was difficult.
He was also charged with telling his dad, who bought the iPod for him, that he had lost it. This was also difficult.
A bit later in the evening I realized that I had totally forgotten to acknowledge the courage it took for him to be honest and tell me right away about the missing iPod. When I praised him for this he beamed with pride and shared how much he had really not wanted to tell me. Honesty.
Gigglebox was very patient throughout the weekend, not fussing when his brother was using his own iPod and not asking to use anyone else’s. He was patient on Monday when the gym at his school (where it most likely fell out of his pocket) was not accessible. He was patient on Tuesday when he again could not get into the gym. Then at last on Wednesday he was there. Patience.
Kindness. This lesson came from his teachers. First a teacher saw it on the floor that Friday afternoon and put it into the lost and found box in the gym. Then another teacher who had seen him with the iPod on the day he lost it recognized it as his and put it in her desk for safekeeping. She returned it to him when he came to class and he was quite relieved to say the least. He told her how much he appreciated her kindness and asked her to also tell the other teacher thank you. Gratitude.
He made a plan to make sure in the future the iPod was attached to him instead of stuffed somewhere. Responsibility. He also decided not to take it with him on a field trip. Great learning!
While there were many lessons for my little Gigglebox on this journey, the lessons were clearly there for the rest of us as well.
The opportunity to learn and grow is ever present.
Namaste
Thursday, December 9, 2010
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
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
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Truthfulness, Revisited
Satya, truthfulness, has continued to be a theme in our lives throughout the fall. It seems to come up on a daily basis.
I answered a Mama Drama question a couple of weeks ago about lying. In the process I looked at current research and found some new perspectives to consider when supporting honesty with my children. There are two that had the biggest impact on me and have influenced my interactions with my children over the past couple of weeks, for the better I might add!
The first is that our children's primary motivation for lying is to make us happy. Huh? you might ask yourself - I did the same. Children mistakenly believe their parents will be happier if they pretend they didn't do something wrong than if they tell the truth about their mistake. As parents we have to impress upon our children that telling the truth will make us happier than if they hadn't made the mistake. I have practiced this several times over the past few weeks when big issues have come up for my sons and have been stunned at its effectiveness.
The second ah-ha in my research was how we often set our children up to lie through the questions we ask and the demeanor we use to deliver the question. Because they want to make us happy when we ask, "Did you...?" they immediately say no. As parents we think we want to give our kids a chance to come clean on their own without accusations, but sometimes we just have to call it like we see it. For example, last night I came downstairs to find the foil on the sweet potato pie pulled back and a finger print in the pie. I knew which child had the opportunity in the kitchen on their own, so went to address him.
I calmly entered his room and stated, "You put your finger in the pie, right?" Without hesitation, surprisingly, he answered, "Yeeeessss, but it was soooo good!" I gushed appreciation for him telling me the truth right away and said we'd address any consequences about the pie in the morning. He was happy, I was happy, all was good, no lying. Practice was paying off.
Previously, I might have asked my sons if they had done it in a stern tone. That usually led to a denial, even when the evidence was all over their faces.
I have never wanted my children's behavior to be about making me happy. I always want them to feel happy internally about making the right choice. Given what the research states and my sons' responses, I believe I will have to make an exception in the case of lying.
Parenting is always a journey of growth and self-reflection, svadhyaya. I am sure my dear boys will provide me with many opportunities to hone my skills and practice tapas, self-discipline, in managing my responses. I hope to return the favor with opportunities for them to practice satya, truthfulness, as often as possible.
Namaste
I answered a Mama Drama question a couple of weeks ago about lying. In the process I looked at current research and found some new perspectives to consider when supporting honesty with my children. There are two that had the biggest impact on me and have influenced my interactions with my children over the past couple of weeks, for the better I might add!
The first is that our children's primary motivation for lying is to make us happy. Huh? you might ask yourself - I did the same. Children mistakenly believe their parents will be happier if they pretend they didn't do something wrong than if they tell the truth about their mistake. As parents we have to impress upon our children that telling the truth will make us happier than if they hadn't made the mistake. I have practiced this several times over the past few weeks when big issues have come up for my sons and have been stunned at its effectiveness.
The second ah-ha in my research was how we often set our children up to lie through the questions we ask and the demeanor we use to deliver the question. Because they want to make us happy when we ask, "Did you...?" they immediately say no. As parents we think we want to give our kids a chance to come clean on their own without accusations, but sometimes we just have to call it like we see it. For example, last night I came downstairs to find the foil on the sweet potato pie pulled back and a finger print in the pie. I knew which child had the opportunity in the kitchen on their own, so went to address him.
I calmly entered his room and stated, "You put your finger in the pie, right?" Without hesitation, surprisingly, he answered, "Yeeeessss, but it was soooo good!" I gushed appreciation for him telling me the truth right away and said we'd address any consequences about the pie in the morning. He was happy, I was happy, all was good, no lying. Practice was paying off.
Previously, I might have asked my sons if they had done it in a stern tone. That usually led to a denial, even when the evidence was all over their faces.
I have never wanted my children's behavior to be about making me happy. I always want them to feel happy internally about making the right choice. Given what the research states and my sons' responses, I believe I will have to make an exception in the case of lying.
Parenting is always a journey of growth and self-reflection, svadhyaya. I am sure my dear boys will provide me with many opportunities to hone my skills and practice tapas, self-discipline, in managing my responses. I hope to return the favor with opportunities for them to practice satya, truthfulness, as often as possible.
Namaste
Thursday, August 26, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
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
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
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