The Magic Within

The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” – W.B. Yeats

Yesterday I picked up a board book that I used to read my daughter in her youngest years and read it to my toddler. I hadn’t read it in years since my 6-year-old daughter has moved on to more complex plot lines. As I read the beautifully illustrated pages, I was inspired by the words that seem to me to be part poetry and part prayer for the sacred inner child. They brought back that feeling of infinite possibility and boundless love that came with each of my kids as they were handed to me in the hospital. Here is part of The Crown On Your Head:

With your crown made of glittering, high-flying things,
you’ve got wind in your pocket, your wishes have wings.

You can run like you mean it…so, let the wind blow…
There’s just no telling how high you can go!

Whatever it is you choose to do, no one can do it exactly like you.
Ride on the big slide! And if you fall down, remember your glorious, marvelous crown.

It won’t flicker or fade. It won’t dim. It won’t leave.
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS BELIEVE.

Do you, my child? I hope that you do.
The world is a wonderland waiting for you.

And you get to share it with all your friends, too!
They each have a crown that is faithful and true.

No one’s is brighter, no one’s is duller.
It’s only a crown of a different color.

So sometimes, just every now and then, whisper “I believe” again.

Your crown is your best friend forever, by far.
It tells the true story of just who you are.

That’s why every night, when I put you to bed,
I’m careful to kiss the crown on your head.

The Crown on Your Head by Nancy Tillman

And I wondered, when did I stop believing in this about me? I don’t mean that in a self-pitying way but in a way that has forgotten that there is a sacred inner child within me.

It strikes me that somewhere in the transition between my parents wishes for the beautiful life I would have and coming to care for myself, I have mastered the practicalities but forgotten the magic. And while I am more or less fine with that because I get along well enough, I wouldn’t wish that same pragmaticism-only for my kids.

And beyond my kids, is it possible for me to recognize the magic in you if I don’t recognize the magic in me? There has to be a maxim here that if I’m moved enough when I read it to my kids because I have witnessed their magic then I must believe it just a little bit – otherwise why read it at all?

There must be a way that doesn’t leave them narcissistic, spoiled or entitled to remind my kids of the magic inside them. Believing in our inner magic doesn’t mean we won’t do our chores and go to work, but possibly we’ll whistle more and find deeper joy when we do. Or hopefully we’ll listen to our own inspiration more if we do.

I’m considering reading this board book to them at tough moments all the way until they are 52 years old and beyond if I happen to be on the planet. If it reminds me of the flame of possibility that burns within me for as long as I live and love, all the better.

Parenting Review

The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” – Mark Twain

As my daughter celebrates turning 6 this week, I thought some introspection of what six years as a parent has done to me would be fitting. This very demanding job has filled my heart with wonder at the design and spirit of children who are learning machines that laugh so much while they tackle some impressive skills. Here are some of the marks parenting has left on me:

Being a mother has made me a better daughter because I see more clearly how we ride on the shoulders of the people we come from and we write our stories based on the characters they were.

Helping little people manage their emotions has made me better at emotional Aikido because I’ve learned not to block feelings but instead move their energy past me.

Seeing the unmarred canvass of babies has made me want to be a better human because I want to heal all my wounds and oddities so I don’t pass them along.

Witnessing the miracle of birth and children has strengthened my faith because I’ve seen that so much is outside of my control and I don’t have the time or energy to worry about it.

Creating a home with children has helped me understand what the comfort of a home is beyond cozy blankets and soft pillows. It’s the place where we unpack all our junk and sort it out with those that love us so that we don’t have to carry it with us anymore.

Raising children has made me a better citizen because I can see who is inheriting this country and earth.

Finally, becoming a parent has made me a way worse friend (because I can only listen to half of sentence without being interrupted), a terrible house cleaner and poor editor (because I only have time to write) but I’m hoping those are correctable over time.

The one last thing is something that encapsulates all the ups and downs and particulars. On one level, I wanted to have a family and because I was single and old (for motherhood), went to a fertility clinic, underwent IVF treatment and had a baby. But bigger than that, I had a dream and I began it. Now I see the power of taking a leap – the Universe does in fact make it happen.

Put Down the Controls

Grace isn’t a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live.” – Jacqueline Winspear

The other night I went in to check my toddler in his crib before I went to bed. I slipped in and the movement awakened him. I heard him sit up and roll over so I stood there motionless until I thought he’d settled back down. I knew it wasn’t long enough for him to really fall back asleep but I stepped out anyway, too exhausted after walking 17,849 steps while caring for two children all day to stand there any longer. And he started crying. He was upset because of something I did and I was too exhausted to do anything about it but to silently curse myself.

As I listened to him crying through the wall, I had this moment when I realized that I’ve created no space for the Divine in my parenting. That is to say, I think everything is my responsibility and my fault. When I delivered each of these two miracles, there was no denying that they were these perfect gifts from God but then I’ve taken the job and responsibility of a parent so seriously that I have forgotten I’m not in control.

I’ve come so far in the other areas of my life to have faith and to see how everything comes together for good. My dad dies and then in the same year my daughter is born. A project is delayed because of a reorganization at the client company and then I have time when the request comes in from my favorite non-profit to help with their technology. I’ve started see this beautiful symphony of how it all works out. I’ve relaxed into trusting the Divine hand in the flow of life and so even when I don’t understand, I’ve learned patience to find out the why that will reveal itself sooner or later. I’ve let go of a lot of control and in return seen the give and take of this beautiful mystery of life.

But parenting and the fun, funny and tough moments and the mistakes I make while being in charge, I take so personally. In my enthusiasm to do a great job, I have completely forgotten that enthusiasm means “with God”. I made the choice so intentionally to become a single parent, I forgot that is only in this dimension but if I look higher, I have a partner in this most important and meaningful job.

My dad had this phrase, “You have to care less without being careless.” He was talking about golf. But his years as a pastor infused a wisdom that overlaid most everything he said. In this game of life, I need to relax my grip and care a little less about parenting so that God can help me swing everything.

My son cried after I woke him up for only a minute or two. It was long enough to have this epiphany. Like magic that challenges our assumptions about what we know and see, the Universe used that moment of exhaustion and disappointment to startle me out of my insistence that I am in control.

Let the Magic Begin

She quietly expected great things to happen to her, and no doubt that’s one of the reasons why they did.” – Zelda Fitzgerald

My 5-year-old lost her second tooth last night. I had no idea of the celebrity of the tooth fairy until this one came out. Because of course the first one is going to be a big deal but the second one? Every bit as big of a deal.

She sat down right away to write the tooth fairy a note, front pictured above. Here’s the translation:

To the Tooth Fairy: How do you make sure that kids brush their teeth? How many dollars are you going to give me? You are the best!  Can you give me 2 toys and money too? 20 dollars please. One toy is for my brother.

I found myself trying to talk her down from the expectations of the note. Our neighbor got $20 for a tooth, I assume because she didn’t lose her first one until she was 7 ½ years-old or at least that’s the explanation I give to that extraordinary sum. The Delta Dental website says the average for our area is $5.46 which I still think is high. And the toys – my daughter heard a rumor from another kid that some kid somewhere asked for toys from the tooth fairy…and got them!

In the midst of trying to talk her into realistic expectations, I decided to stop. Who says we are supposed to be realistic? And while her asking for gifts from the tooth fairy kinda put me off, I think it’s a little bit of a bias in me that girls aren’t supposed to ask for what they want.

For me this speaks to the heart of magic, praying and belief. Is it supposed to be limited by what we think is achievable? Or do we go all out and all in and ask away like Agnes Sanford said in the post I wrote about writing that has inspired me? Is there a heart of a 5-year-old in me that believes, really believes that magic can happen if I completely commit to setting my dreams BIG?

Yes, there is. So the Tooth Fairy is keeping that note. And decided to give $5 for the tooth and $5 so she can buy a toy for her brother. Let the magic begin….

The Magic of Sleep

We are like someone in a very dark night over whom lightning flashes again and again.” – Maimonides

I overslept! Instead of waking two hours before my kids get up as I do almost every other day of the year, I woke up 30 minutes after. I had been awake in the middle of the night worrying about how to keep my kids entertained and cool in the heat wave that is enveloping the Pacific NW and then I went to back to sleep for hours.

There’s a Buddha quote – “sleep is the best meditation.” In this phase of life with young children, I understand that more than ever. I go to bed feeling all the grime of the day and awaken feeling all the possibility. I go to bed with worries and doubts and awaken with faith that I can tackle them. I go to bed struggling to understand what I’ve learned and awaken with one more page of my story written.

When I finally woke up this morning, no one was crying or upset and instead we were all rested. Maybe the best proof that there is God helping us through this life is experienced when my eyes are closed and my brain is quiet. I lose the certainty of it every day, only to discover it again each night.

Magic In The Air

Above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” – Roald Dahl

I was listening to the On Being podcast with Krista Tippett and Jill Tarter. Jill Tarter is an astronomer and the co-founder of the SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) Institute. She talked about her long career, the fascinating questions she’s pursued and the many eye-opening discoveries that have changed how we think of the possibilities. One of her examples was that scientists have discovered that life exists in so many places on earth we never thought possible – like bacteria in nuclear reactor fluid and whole colonies so far beneath the sea that light doesn’t shine. During the interview, this particular line that Jill said caught my attention, “We have to stop projecting what we think onto what we don’t know.”

Our thinking colors our ability to perceive. Our openness determines whether we will see magic. It makes me think of the time that I dropped my wallet in my neighborhood grocery store and had to go back for it. As my internal voice was grumping about my own carelessness, I both found the wallet and bumped in to a dear friend that I hadn’t seen for two years as she recovered from cancer. Best mistake ever. Or the time I was awakened early by the baby crying and blearily stumbled out of my room with the closed blinds to discover the most stunning sunrise. Or the magic of divorce which made me walk back everything I thought I knew about how life was going to go until I found out what life waited for me outside those expectations.

We have to be open to the possibility that while we are searching for how to be happy, we might just find out that we already are.