This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Trying to Talk Over the Wind

Sometimes I feel the need to jot a few things down before I move on to the "higher priority" tasks on my daily list. Other times I'm able to say "nope" to putting my passion on the waiting list.  Other times I'm better at living with the muddy paw prints on the floor, last night's dinner dishes on the counter.  I heard a mom of three once say she was a "recovering neat freak" and I understood what she meant.

Anyway.  I'm way off base on my regularly scheduled programming at home and in my writing, not mention hungry for breakfast and coffee, and running on nap-borrowed time.  I actually can't ignore the mud clods, the hair balls, etc. because to really write I need more than an hour and to live sanely I need more order in my environment. That's just how I am.

Let me just be brief and say, boy it's windy here!  The wind makes us crazy sometimes.  It stirs up energy, makes old issues new again, makes us restless, talkative, and all these other weird ego outbursts you can imagine.  I think we get it wrong.  The wind probably wants us to listen, not try to talk over it.  It wants us to find a little hillside, button up our sweaters, and stand tall as it batters about, whooshes, and brings stories we'll never be able to copy on paper.  If we wait though, if we wait long enough to let the wind's busy blowing into ourselves, it will leave us better than it found us.  The wind is a wise game player.  But we haven't been doing too good a job listening.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

1001 Son Days

It's really really my nap time, but I have these words that just won't stop coming out of me.  I can't clamp down this dam, but the locks are in progress to level things off for nap time.

I started a new tumblr account.  It's called 1001 Son Days

I will post photos, notes, songs, videos, stories, poems, etc., etc., etc. for 1001 days all centered on thoughts, feelings, and events relating to my first son.  This was inspired by the beautiful journal created by Nikki McClure called The First 1000 Days.

When I first saw it, it stole my breath, but I scoffed.  It was a cover. That's quite a commitment, I feared.  Envy bore up in me and the idea wouldn't go away because her art moved me.  So, I spat out that bad taste, made the leap, and will do this.  The point of the tumblr is to try to keep a record to have and look back upon (we do have photos and physical keep sakes too).  Another reason I am doing this is because I need to write and tumbling often feels like a good format when time is short or thoughts are scattered.  

I love the idea of gathering each post, when all is said and done in this particular idea line, for a book to have and hold too.

Here is a post I wrote today that won't go live on 1001 Son Days for three days.

The Mama and the Papa
It is common for older people to lay in bed at night thinking of ways to better live their lives.  When you’re older try to remember not to do this too much.  Notice you’re doing it and let it go.  Focus on your breathing instead.  We already practice noticing our breathing together, when you cry hard at night and breathe erratically.
Last night, before I let go into my breath and into sleep and dream-land, I thought about roles.  The roles we perform in life.  
When I was teaching youth reading and studying skills I was most nervous about those students closest to me in age.  I worried they’d see through me and know that I thought their humor or behavior was sometimes amusing.  I was trained not to let them see my humor too soon.  I was supposed to be an authority figure of sorts, and they had to learn to respect that before I was allowed to crack too many smiles.
Last night I thought about my new dinnertime requirement.  We eat, as a family, at seven.  You go to bed at eight.  That way your papa and I also get to sleep at reasonable time.  Or anyway, that’s my hypothesis.  I felt very firm as I talked this plan through last night with your papa. 
Then, at bedtime, I thought about rules and that somehow led to thinking that you don’t need to be exposed too often to my personal neuroses.  That is one role of the healthy parent, in my opinion.  I thought of the way your papa talks.  He might say, “I’m the papa” to you, and then introduce, “and she’s the mama.”  
You don’t need to know our names for awhile.  You need to know we’re here and we’re taking the best care of you possible because we love you so much our hearts feel gelatinous more than we care to admit. 

Monday, March 7, 2011

We All Have the Buddha Within

Watched a PBS online video called The Buddha last night.  Had beautiful dreams in two hour snippets afterward.  I have learned I can't necessarily recreate pleasing behaviors just by making sure the conditions are reproduced identically.  Five hours of sleep in one go two nights in a row does not mean I won't see two hour intervals for the next three nights.

I said to Hadj, "Wouldn't it be great to be raised Buddhist?" and he said, "We could raise Salamander that way."
"But we're don't practice Buddhism," I countered.
Maybe it's time I start meditating on impermanence again.  I usually wind up seeing that Hadj and I are in agreement on most things.

One scholar they interviewed talked about the three things that cause human suffering.  He said greed, anger, and ignorance are our major downfalls.  He said the idea is not to stop yourself from experiencing these universal human traits, but to be able to turn them on their heads and express generosity, compassion, and wisdom instead.  I thought of my old work and felt proud.

I can see Salamander gearing up to give us a chuckle soon.  He responds in surprisingly apt tones to my questions, smiles, and laughter.  He smiles with me.  Coos with my laughter.  Hopefully he'll enjoy looking out his window at the beauty around us too, because I'm about to go wash it to let in that strengthening spring light.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Happy Anything Can Happen Day!

I don't know how it came to be, but Wednesdays have been dubbed anything can happen day around our house.  I've always loved Wednesdays.   I guess I love many forms of middle ground in a big way.  

I wanted to stop by and post a quickie here today because I've been thinking that several of my recent posts have been representative of difficult times and I don't want to mislead.  Bottom line: we're doing good!