God Bless You

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” – Mahatma Gandhi

I don’t know what is in the air but it’s making me sneeze. But yesterday I had to drive my toddler to the very first birthday party he’s ever been invited to on a farm an hour from our house, I didn’t take any allergy medicine just in case it would make me sleepy. We had a great time at the party but whatever it is got worse so by the time we got home, I was sneezing non-stop. Achoo, achoo, achoo. My kids think it’s funny and maybe it was fine for the first 100 but by the 101st, I was tired of it. Finally, I took an allergy pill.

I tend not to tell my kids when I’m not feeling well. I guess I think they can’t do anything about it, it’s not their problem… <snort> until it is because I’ve got a fraction of my patience and am swimming in the shallow end of my grace pool. But last night, I did tell them as I went to lay on the couch for a minute, the Benadryl made me drowsy.

Their reaction was fascinating. They tried to help. My 5-year-old daughter took off my shoes and covered me with a blanket. My toddler son followed his sister’s cue and piled on whatever he could find on the floor, which these days is a lot of stuff, and then sat on me. Not particularly helpful but very amusing. And he tried to say, “God Bless You” which came out sounding a little like a sneeze itself.

Yet another little lesson for me not to keep my inner world and my outer world so separate. Somehow in the communicating of how I’m really doing, life continues but just a little more authentically, humorously and with a little less effort. Not to mention it’s hard to keep anything to yourself when you are violently sneezing… achoo!😊

Self-Care

“You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” – Buddha

Sitting on my meditation cushion today, I started to squirm because my right hip hurt. But I still stayed until finally it occurred to me that there was no honor in enduring the pain. I could meditate while lying on my back and stretching my hip. As I did that, I realized that I do this often – fail at self-care because I believe I am accomplishing something more important.

One of the reasons I’m thinking about this was another great podcast this week. The On Being podcast with Alex Elle. She talked about doing more than surviving this life. She wants to break the cycle in her family where the women just give until there is not one drop left for themselves. The line she said that really caught my attention was, “Choosing to do this work – it doesn’t just heal me, it heals my lineage.”

Wow, that rolls it all into one. If I believe that, and it rang true to me, then I can’t ignore my own care. I can’t martyr myself in the name of raising these two beautiful children because I would be teaching them, among other things, that motherhood is no fun. It makes me rethink my pattern of never going out at night so that I’m always here to put my kids to bed. I think there is a lot of goodness in that but always/never might be a little extreme.

As I stretched the right hip and then the left, I realized that the thing that I am good at is seeking out others stories to inspire me. In podcasts and blog posts, I find so much interesting and thought-provoking material that makes me grow. It gives me hope that I learn to take care of myself in other ways too!

Last Day of School

“Ah, life grows lovely where you are.” – Mathilde Blind

Today is the last day of school. I’m not very experienced as a parent of a schoolchild since this was our first year and the pandemic conditions have made it a strange year. Virtual learning for most of the year and then they split the class in two sessions, morning and afternoon, to reduce the size and we had half days of in-person learning since April. But we have finished the year such as it was and there is great excitement in the air for the last day of the year.

The feeling of impending freedom. Freedom from schedules, work and worry. Nothing to do and nowhere to be. The pure promise of childhood. If I remember from my childhood, this was the best day of the summer – the one where it all looms before you.

Before it turns into boredom. Nothing to do and nowhere to be. The agony of childhood where there is so much that you are not allowed to do yet. Then you wander through the days of summer and get to August and all of a sudden wonder how you wasted all your freedom.

Funny that I seem to experience time as either too much or too little and I don’t think I’m alone in that. The only remedy that I’ve managed is to be grateful for today. And grateful is a great way to celebrate today because I have a long list specific to the last day of school:

My child learned to read.

For a warm and loving teacher who was able to connect even over the screen.

That we got to practice leaving the house and going to school even for just a couple months.

That there were no COVID outbreaks in the school which bodes well for next year.

That we seem to be starting to repair the social awkwardness caused by a year apart.

And that we are still here and healthy.

So I celebrate the excitement of today for all of us because we made it through a doozy of a year! May the promise of summer freedom bring a bump of joy to us all!

The Long and Winding Road

Your talent is God’s gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God.” – Leo Buscaglia

My five-year-old daughter has been saying to me lately, “I want to be a scientist so that I can keep finding bigger and bigger numbers to tell you how much I love you.” Aww, so sweet. She gets my attention and a hug every time she says it.

It makes me think of why we choose the jobs that we do – to impress others, to have enough money to feel safe, to differentiate ourselves, to do something until we figure out what we really want to do. I think back to college and why I choose to study Electrical Engineering. It had a lot to do with a man I was dating who was also an engineer and EE was the engineering major that required the most math classes and I loved math. It’s turned out to be a fine basis for what I really like to do which is to solve problems for people. There are a lot of ways to have jobs that help people but that was the route that I took and it’s worked out.

But I winnowed out a lot of other choices. I worked at an engineering firm as a receptionist one summer in college and realized I didn’t want to have a job just sitting behind a drafting table,  I worked at the expresso stand in the building that housed the architect majors and realized that the pressure of long lines wasn’t any fun. I spent enough time in the EE labs with other engineering students to realize I didn’t want to hang out with other engineers. In other words, there were a lot of “no’s” along the way.

It strikes me as I continue to wind my way through life figuring out what’s next that the “no’s” are a tool that I need to have more respect for. It reminds me of a story about Thomas Edison who as he tried to invent the light bulb tried a lot of different materials to be the filament. When asked if he got frustrated with each experiment he replied that he didn’t because each one taught him what not to use. That inspires me to both know that even though I’m in mid-life, I am not finished having choices and also to understand that what I don’t do is as important as what I do.

As for my daughter, I assume she will change her mind about what she wants to be many times. I’ll take the hug and sweetness and try to gently steer her towards discerning what is meaningful for her own God given talents.

Abundance

Go into yourself and see how deep the place is from which your life flows.” – Rainier Maria Rilke

Last night we had a family party to celebrate birthdays for my mom and me. My daughter had very carefully planned what to wear – a pink dress with a delicate white cardigan and was getting dressed when she asked me what her brother was going to wear. When I told her that he was wearing his Hawaiian shirt which is pretty much the only button down shirt he has, she said disappointedly, “Awww, everyone is going to say ‘wow, what a cute baby.’ “

I gulped because there was something so familiar in her small complaint. Doesn’t it always seem like someone else at a party has it easier? Someone who navigates the introductions, conversations and transitions without anxiety. Someone who naturally draws the attention and even if I don’t want to be the center of attention, it’s hard not be just a little bit envious.

This weekend I listened again to the On Being podcast with Krista Tippett and Yale sociologist Nicholas Christakis. He made the point that for us to be social, we have to be individual. That is to say, to be able to recognize each other we have to notice the differences between us. Otherwise, the mom feeds the wrong baby or we can’t tell which person is our friend.

But it seems like we pay a price for always noticing differences. It breeds comparison, competition and envy. It fosters the feeling of scarcity because someone else always has more. Speaking personally, it takes a lot of continual work to overcome the system and rest assured that I have enough love, possessions and worth. That might be in a nutshell what drives me back to faith – to find the unity and Divine love that is common to all of us.

I didn’t have any words for my daughter’s comment. I gave her a big hug and we went to the party. She was right, that was exactly what everyone said about her brother. But she made herself useful and got plenty of attention. Better than anything I could say was the experience that there is more than enough love to go around, we just have to show up to feel it.

A Thin Place

“Nothing among human things has such power to keep our gaze fixed even more intensely upon God than friendship.” – Simone Weil

We baked cookies for our neighbor and her husband yesterday. They have been taking 24/7 care of her elderly mom for a week now since she suddenly became sick and unable to care for herself. My daughter made a card for them and we put the card with the cookies and some puzzles and set off to deliver them. My neighbor’s mom only lives around the corner. My daughter wanted to carry the basket and when she handed them over, our neighbor cried. Then I cried.

It was a holy moment, the kind of moment that Bishop Michael Curry of the Episcopal church calls a thin place where God is just that much closer. The unexpressed weariness and worry in our neighbor met the softness of a kind gesture and out leaked some tears from the River of Life.

I’m completely flummoxed by how to teach faith to my kids. I look back to the Sunday School and all the church activities from my youth and while they were fun, I just didn’t get it and neither did my siblings.  It was only life in it’s raw, humbling way that made me search for the wider current that unites us all. Now I can tell you Christian stories, practice Buddhist-inspired meditation, find God out in nature and read anything deep in order to keep life vital.

So I’ve tried Sunday School for my daughter as a base hoping that it starts the seed that will grow into whatever works for her. But yesterday, witnessing two grown-ups cry over a plate of cookies while the spark of the Divine crackled in the air taught more than 100 Sundays. Even my toddler just stood there smiling watching something he didn’t understand. It reminded me that the unplanned lessons sometimes are the best.

The Current Underneath

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.” – Dolly Parton

Last night I was out with my kids as they biked, my 5-year-old on her new big bike and my toddler on an old-school Radio Flyer tricycle. I suggested to my daughter that she go all the way around the block on her bike while my son and I worked best on how to make progress on his trike. This was a new freedom for my daughter, riding away from us on the sidewalk and being on her own for a whole block albeit one she knows well because we walk it all the time. She’d done it several times and was exhilarated by the freedom until the time when she came to the long back straightaway and didn’t see us. My son and I had made enough progress to get around the corner. By the time she got to us, my daughter was scared. I soothed her the best I could and we made our way home. I thought all was good until I asked her to clean up something and she grumped at me. It wasn’t until later that I realized she had some carry-over from being scared.

When I sit on my meditation bolster in the morning, I expect to find peace, happiness and clarity. I am always surprised by the occasions that I find instead a lingering disappointment, anxiety or sadness underneath. I frequently think that I can use my optimism and positivity to pave over the feelings I’m less comfortable with but in those quiet moments they let me know they are still there. I am learning over and over again that I have to feel things all the way through. The worry about a friend going through a hard time or the disappointment that I didn’t get a particular project stay insistent that I acknowledge them before I can settle in to my peace.

This reminds me of a story my meditation teacher told me. She was teaching a 6am yoga class on a dark fall morning. People were settling onto their mats and she was walking around the room quietly talking the class through those opening exercises when she noticed someone outside looking into her car. Without thinking she opened the door to the studio and yelled, “Move on, MotherF*&#$r!” This still cracks me up every time she tells the story but also reminds me that what’s going on in me and around me sometimes has to be acknowledged before I can find peace.

Last night after I’d put my toddler to bed and was sitting with my daughter to read books, we finally got to the feeling of being scared and were able to talk it through and put it to bed too. Then it felt done and we were able to find our quiet and rest.

Drawing Boundaries

The problem with the world is that we draw our family circle too small.” – Mother Teresa

Coming back together after a year apart feels like I’m out of practice on some things. Like how to greet people. Is it a hug or fist bump or a nod? But as awkward as those things feel to me as an adult, I’m watching my five-and-a-half year old try to manage them after missing out on about 20% of her life experience in socialization and it feels really big. Like how to navigate the friend who wants to eat her lunch.

My daughter doesn’t eat very fast. Her friend scarfs down her own lunch and then starts in on my daughter’s. My daughter wants to share and has no foresight that she is going to need that fuel or be hungry. Drawing boundaries. It feels like this is one thing that we haven’t had to do during the year of coronavirus.

Drawing boundaries has always evoked for me the idea of two countries dividing territory. But looking it up, I see that there are many different parallels. In mathematics, the drawing of boundaries applies to clearly defining when a theory is supposed to hold. In therapy, it’s the rules that govern the patient/therapist relationship. Abstracting these, drawing boundaries allow us to create predictability in relationships by defining what’s mine and what’s yours.

But I-ing and my-ing is also known in Buddhism to be one of the root causes of spiritual disease. When we start protecting territory, we stop being able to see the Unity that ties us all together. We limit our ability to see ourselves in everyone. We elevate the ego and its importance in relationship to everything else.

Of course I know this intuitively as a parent. When my babies arrived, there was little boundary between those tiny little people and me. The love I was overwhelmed with carried me through feeding, waking, changing diapers, washing clothes with spit up on them with little thought of whether they were cutting in to “my” time or whether “I” had everything I needed. It was all “we.” Now as they get older and take “my” stuff and putting it places that I cannot find, there are some distinct boundaries. But in every moment of tenderness and perspective, I am right back to that beautiful place where they are my heart walking outside my body.

Believing that there are some healthy ways to draw boundaries, I decided to step in to the lunch situation. I figure that we have all have more of a chance of seeing that we are more alike than different when our tanks are full. But I’m hoping that she goes on to solve world hunger so that’s true for everyone.

The Choice Between Right and Easy

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

In the fourth book of the series, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, the dark wizard Lord Voldemort has returned and the headmaster of Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore says, “Soon we will all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.”

I don’t know much about fighting dark wizards but making the choice between what is right and what is easy seems like something that describes the job of parenting. Maybe I’m predisposed to think that because I’m reading Harry Potter out loud to my child but nonetheless here are some of the many choices I think we as parents face:

We have to decide whether or not to teach our children manners or let them discover them at the hands of their maybe less tactful peers.

We have to decide whether to inculcate a sense of respect for nature and resources of the earth or risk ruining the earth for themselves or our grandchildren.

We have to choose between instilling a deep sense of kindness and compassion for others or suffer knowing that we might have added to the aggression of this world.

We have to choose between raising children that have a healthy sense of boundaries and self-worth that they inherited from watching us or let them figure it out on their own perhaps after doing great damage to themselves.

We have to choose between letting our kids spend their days immersed in screen time or engaging with them to foster real experiences and adventures in this world.

And none of these choices is easy because it means we have to walk that walk when we are distracted, tired and want to live our own lives reasonably well. But I find it interesting that the distinction is not between right and wrong but between right and easy because it’s effort not evil that defines the choice.

Speaking for myself, I don’t do perfectly on any of the parenting choices but more often than not I make the hard choice as I know most parents do and have done throughout all the ages. There is some science to support why as I learned when I listened to an interview Nicholas Christakis, the Yale sociologist who studies how we have evolved as a species. His view as laid out in his book Blueprint is that our evolution has come with some uniquely wonderful social features – to love, to teach others, to cooperate. He holds that humans are wired for good which is so inspiring to hear.

Because we aren’t alone in our choices. We have the magic and faith that comes from our relationship with the Divine and we have our connection to each other. In Harry Potter, Dumbledore’s pronouncement about choosing between what is right and what is easy is part of a moving speech about how unity and friendship carries us through the hard choices and hard times. Our connection to everything that is bigger than us powers us through the moments when we have nothing left in the tank. Over and over again we discover we can do hard things – and we do!

The Power of Curiosity

“If you see the soul in every living being, you see truly.” – The Bhagavad Gita

My five-year-old daughter kills snails. Let me pause here and say that it’s not a serial-killer-in-training kind of thing where she tortures and then decapitates them or something like that. It’s very well-intentioned interference in their life where she builds these very elaborate snail houses with pools and vegetation and then stocks them with snails. But then she’ll put them directly in the sun or forget to refill the water and oops, another snail is dead. One of my friends gave her a Bug Hotel terrarium and she put so many unfortunate snails in there that I started to call it the Bates Motel.

I have a friend who does a similar thing with humans (the help thing, not the killing thing). She doles out well-intentioned help to people that she believes need an upgrade in their circumstances. Unfortunately it sometimes backfires when people feel like they are projects and don’t absorb the help they are given.

I recently listened to this Dare to Lead podcast with Brene Brown and Michael Bungay Stanier that talked about the pitfalls of giving advice – the person with a problem may not accurately know what the problem is, any solution that you offer might not solve the root issue and even if you have the perfect solution, it can undercut their ownership of solving the problem themselves. Michael Stanier’s advice was to stay curious a little bit longer.

This seems to be a common theme in the content I’m listening to and reading these days – the power of curiosity. Asking open-ended questions like “how can I help?” and “what makes you think that?” and “say more” changes the nature of the conversation. Curiosity brings the power of mindfulness to an interaction and is a gateway for openness, an antidote to judgment. If we believe that we don’t have enough time to have these conversations, think about how much time it takes to solve problems again and again because we didn’t get it right the first time.

I’m finding curiosity a great tool for parenting because kids have so much of it. I could continue to slip out at night and free the snails or I can flat out tell her not to capture them but both of those solutions undermine her ability to see the soul in everything. Because of course this is not just about my daughter and snails, it’s about our agency in this world and learning not to destroy it. I’m hopeful as we research about whether snails grow out of their shells, what leaves they like best and how long they usually live that we can connect more deeply with compassion for others and retire the Bates Motel.