Middle Class Parenting

This weekend we were burdened by that most thoroughly unwanted of guests, the class teddy. You know the kind of thing. Most classes have them these days, a teddy of some description that travels around from home to home, spending qual ity time with their classmates!

They always come with a diary that must be fi lled in, to detail the toy’s visit into your home. This diary lets your teacher, and all your child’s friend’s parents know what kind of a parent you are. This book is a complete assessment of each of the children in your child’s class, allowing the parents to decide which of these children are worthy of being a friend or potential future partner for their young charge.

Or at least that is what you think everyone is doing.

The pressure is on.

Last time Sydney Duck came to visit I wound up in trouble. It had been left to me to supervise my son, Daniel, as he wrote the diary. I had also been left in charge of the boys on the day of the visit, because my wife was out at a meeting or playing netball or drinking (I forgot to listen when being told what she was doing so cannot be accurate I’m afraid).

The result was this…
“Sydney’s Diary – Daniel’s house, 10^th April 2010

We came home to Daniel’s house and were going to watch Doctor Who on TV, but Daniel’s dad had accidentally deleted the recording so we watched Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines. Daniel’s dad had missed the end off the recording so we watched Star Wars instead. Then we had Dominos Pizza for tea and watched Pulp Fiction while eating sweets for pudding.

At bed time Daniel and his brother kept getting into trouble for jumping around on their beds, hurting each other and saying rude words. Daniel’s dad kept saying his prayers. I think he was worried about something, because he kept saying ‘Oh God’ a lot and ‘She is going to kill me’. Eventually we got to sleep, but were woken up in the night by a lot of shouting, Daniel’s mum was upset about something but we couldn’t quite hear what – though I think she must have seen the film too, because she knew a lot of the words from it.”

Some of the other parents have been giving us some funny looks since that, and I notice Daniel has not been invited to many birthday parties this year.

My wife pointed out that we are supposed to be middle class and therefore we have to get the diary right – we must try harder next time! The rest of the class must see how wonderful we are at parenting!

And so this time when Sydney came to us for a whole weekend, I have taken no chances.

I wrote out his diary entry on the computer, printed it out and stuck it in the diary, pretending that Daniel had done it (middle class point number one – has access to an IT suite and can use it, check!)

As I believe that I am not the only parent that has suffered this kind of pressure, ensuring that your parenting skills are shown to their best potential within a school teddy diary, I have decided to copy the entry out here for you to use. You will need to change some of the names and details in order to make it personal, otherwise I think it should cut and paste into your life fairly easily.

Of course, it took me quite a while to write it, so the boys were downstairs watching TV for ages. I don’t know what they were watching but the smile was wiped from my face earlier; Daniel cut short the conversation on his play phone, slamming it down and saying “That was my HOE Dad, giving me earache again” I assume he must have been watching a gardening programme.

I can declare that it has worked; word has clearly spread even further than his own school friends. After only three days we have received an invite to Charles Rossiter-Smythe’s birthday party. I’ve been a bit puzzled, because the theme for the party is “boarding school attire”? I’m going to make him an Eton Mess pudding to take, that should cover it.

Any way – please use this if needed…

“Sydney’s Diary – Daniel’s house, 16^th May 2010

This weekend I went to Daniel’s house. I was immediately impressed by the cleanliness of the house. The bathroom was particularly clean. The large Schuller kitchen shone beautifully, its contemporary design somehow complimenting the traditional look of the large Aga in the corner.

The boys immediately changed out of their uniform and went out in the garden to play. Daniel’s dad came out and we all played a game of ‘times tables catch’ where if you dropped the ball, you had to recite the times table for the number of bounces before you picked it up. It was such fun.


Later (as the organic, locally produced beef casserole was cooking in the Aga) Daniel’s Mum came out and sent us on a crazy garden hunt. We had to find an insect each, bring it back and then discuss the pros and cons of the creature. Did it help the garden in some way or harm it? Then we had to write about it in our garden hunt diaries before letting it go. It was such fun.The casserole was delicious and the Kumquat and Lychee dessert was amazing.

Afterwards, we helped load the dishwasher, and I helped Daniel do his homework before playing chess.

At bedtime, Daniel’s dad read us some poems from a book about saving the whales (I had no idea that humans had been so terrible to these mighty mammals, it really made me think).

On Saturday, we all went for a long hike around the countryside, discussing the flora and fauna as well as the wildlife in the area. Occasionally, if someone said a new word, Daniel’s mum would shout “spell it” and we would all laugh as whoever it was had to try and spell the word. We went up one hill and could see that on one side the land was beautiful and covered in trees, but on the other side the terrible decay of commercialism and greed had ruined the view with power stations spewing smoke into our atmosphere. The harm this was doing was all too apparent, as the roads and houses spread evermore towards the countryside on the other side of the hill. The sight of this really made me think.

On Sunday, after church, we went to help clear up litter on the council estate. We all walked along with bags and filled them up with rubbish. The poor people on that estate don’t have bins like normal people do so they have to throw their food wrappings out of their windows I think. I don’t think they noticed us doing this because their 50” plasma TV’s had the football on; Daniel pointed out that if they didn’t spend all their money on TV, cigarettes and beer, they would be able to afford to come on school trips and pay for their own school dinners without using the vouchers. This really made me think.

In the evening (after a delicious Ratatouille and fair trade chocolate soufflé) we played historical charades. You had to pretend to be someone from history. Daniel was Neil Armstrong, and his dad was Oliver Cromwell. We all really laughed when Daniel’s mum pretended to be Emily Wilding Davison, throwing herself under the King’s horse. It was such fun, but it also really made me think.

At bedtime Daniel’s mum did some fun maths flash cards with us instead of a story, we really laughed as we did the sums.

Later, when Daniel and I got up in the night to go to the toilet we heard Daniel’s mum preying again, but unlike at church, she was really shouting “God” and “Jesus” with passion. She must be very devout.

I really enjoyed my stay with Daniel; and, as we sat in the four wheel drive for the half mile distance back to school, I hoped that I would be back soon, because it took ages to stop itching after I went to Wayne’s house that time, not to mention the boredom of just watching that big TV all weekend!”


Also posted here by http://www.glenslife.com/

Watermark risen

Given the fact that I am a writer, some people may be surprised to learn that I am a very private person. After all, here I sit on a regular basis, tapping out my innermost feelings to be published on a blog that is readily available to anyone in the world...a mere click of the mouse away. Writing those innermost feelings for the eyes of so many 'out there' is a curious interplay. Yet, I am very self-contained when it comes to revealing details of my private life. There are lines that I feel are necessary to be drawn for all of us, with each person having their own personal watermark that is to remain sacrosanct.


For the most part, in social media forums such as Facebook, Twitter and this blog, you will rarely hear me reveal truly personal details about my life. I am happy to share stories from my childhood, and also to open up about topics and experiences that touch me deeply. I feel this is my way of fulfilling one of my life's gifts, which is that of healing. Again, for the most part, you will see me post very positive, uplifting blog articles, Facebook and Twitter posts. While we all have difficult days and negative experiences, I strive to see the positive in every moment and every person.

Today I had a personal Waterloo moment. It was a situation that I have alluded to in recent blogs, (Tend your bucket!) about an individual that I labeled an emotional vampire. This was my way of exercising the frustrations I had about this person. My nature is to forgive, so much so that it can become a detriment. I forgive, I understand, I sympathize, I lift up, I encourage....and in the midst of all that kindness, I overlook the fact that I am allowing another person to literally bleed me empty.

Please know that I am not suggesting that forgiveness is wrong or foolhardy. I will never truly change in this regard; I am a loving, caring, nurturing Soul and this is intrinsic to my nature to see the good and positive in others. However, there does come a day where it is graphically demonstrated that the kindness doled out has been gleefully, and most likely, selfishly consumed while the recipient of your care is laughing at your foolishness.

My watermark has risen. I weathered a very unpleasant experience today as the result of trusting someone who did not deserve that grace. I admit to struggling with the resulting fallout. I was angry, disappointed, disillusioned to a degree...with all of these emotions self-directed. Why did I aim all of those emotions at myself? Because I knew better.

Stepping completely outside of my regular comfort zone, this is what I wrote on my Facebook page:

You know that inner voice that tells you a situation is shady, as well as the people involved, yet you try your best to see the good in all involved? Trust the inner voice FIRST, and avoid the inevitable drama and disappointment in the whole dynamic. People do show you their true colors, and sometimes those colors are weak & lacking in depth and substance. #Lesson Learned

My lesson here is to forgive myself first, this other person next, and move forward with no intention of allowing this person back into my life. I can count on one hand the number of times I have come to this point in my life. It is a sad moment to truly cut ties with someone that you genuinely cared about. It is a death of expectations, possibilities and hopes, if you at one point had intentions for a strong friendship to grow and endure.

I had no idea how people would react to the Facebook statement above. It was out of character for me to the extent that I spoke of a negative personal situation. Hours after posting it, I came back and was surprised to see the response to the post. Thus far, there has not been a single negative comment. To the contrary, every comment was positive, uplifting and supportive - all true examples of people that I am blessed to call friends. This tells me that I was right to follow my instincts with the Facebook post. It also reminds me that this very instinct is sharp and clear; I need but to pay attention to that still quiet voice in the future to avoid similar negative experiences.

I cannot fault myself for wanting to see the good in others. This is actually a trait that I am happy to own. I will continue to do this, live my life this way, and continue to give more second chances than most people probably merit. I say this with a smile, now, hours later in the day when my own heart has lightened from the wonderful support of true friends. I can't change my own true colors, but I can recognize when those around me are displaying conduct and behavior that is a screaming, neon, flashing warning sign. True colors are displayed in abundance if we're willing to recognize them for what they are.

My personal watermark has risen. I have higher, more stringent standards for allowing people into my life. While this may sound judgmental and strident, it really isn't. It is me making a choice to honor myself first. This can be a difficult lesson to learn and embrace, and I daresay I will struggle with it in the future. Today has made a permanent impact and this time I am making changes that are equally permanent. Forgiveness is a conscious choice....for myself as much as for those with whom I have negative interactions.

The beauty of this experience today is that I have shed the weight of a fully grown person who was dragging me down on a regular basis. I have shed the negative emotions of someone who is motivated by selfishness. I have shed the need to feel responsible for a great number of unnecessary ties. The conscious choice to forgive and move forward, while also excising someone requires a lot of contemplation. It is not a choice made easily or with haste. It is, in this instance, necessary and I am at peace with it.

As we all know, when one door closes, God/Universe opens another. When one person exits, that space is left open for a new, beautiful energy to come in. The repercussions of today's events have some ripples. I will be dealing with those ripples for a while, but the wonderful thing to recognize and remember is that this door is wide open. This means that my life and my expectations have no boundaries.

There's another old piece of wisdom that tells us,

            Water seeks its own level.

Another way of expressing this concept is that there comes a time when vibrations no longer match up. In essence, regardless of the dramatic tone or lack thereof, people will vibrate themselves out of your reality. Sometimes we're the ones left behind. In this situation, I am the one doing the walking away. This is not done with a light heart, as I never enjoy breaking ties with someone who once mattered a great deal to me. It is done, however, with a sure heart, and perhaps that is the stronger part of this particular lesson. Of a necessity, I have looked at my own culpability with this situation. I knew better. I knew better months ago, yet I continued to offer those second chances. I wanted to believe that the spark of beauty that I know resides in each living, breathing being was burning strongly enough in that person to eventually negate the unpleasant traits that I didn't want to look at.

While I cannot speak for this person's interactions with anyone else, what I know now is that the interaction with me has been predominantly self-serving. Even as I write this, it pains me. I could revert to habit, forgive and give another chance to this person, but this time, I am walking away. Forgiveness isn't a question here; I will get to that point within a few days. It isn't in my heart to harbor grudges and simmer in resentment and ill feelings. That will do nothing but bring harm to me in the long run, while this other person will blithely go on about their life, not sparing a thought to the repercussions of their actions. I need to implement an equally purposeful action in my life with this decision and move forward with the assurance that I am better for this experience and better for making this choice.

It is curious that I've used water analogies throughout this blog. Water seems appropriate to apply, as it can exhibit physical manifestations of emotions - we call them "stormy seas", or placid, calm, quiet, tempestuous, soothing, peaceful, angry. All descriptive words that can be applied to relationships and behavior patterns. I rode some stormy seas with this whole situation, and today I can admit that much of this could have been avoided had I heeded my intuition months ago and cut ties. I didn't do that, choosing instead to give more chances. That bit me in the end.

Today, with several hours of distance from the actual unpleasant event, I am sitting on the proverbial dock, gazing out at calm waters. The water level is higher than it used to be, but the view is lovely. Peaceful. Calm. Full of possibilities and brighter for coming to a determined, thoughtful choice. I am appreciative for recognizing that this whole situation was truly a blessing in disguise. Occasionally, there come these moments where it is necessary to adjust our own personal watermark. I would go so far as to suggest it is one of the most healthy, loving gifts any of us can give ourselves.
________________________________
If you enjoyed this blog and would like to read more, you can find me at Healing Morning blog.

The hoopla of marriage

Weddings are a special time.

For most people, it is a time of celebration and parties.

The ceremony symbolizing the union may vary in each culture, but the ethos is the same: it's a time for new beginnings. A time when two families, not just two individuals, join forces.

And society acknowledges, and blesses, the newly weds, congratulating the respective families on this milestone.

But what makes a wedding special for the bride and groom is very different from what makes it special for the parents, relatives and friends.

My wedding was a quick affair.

I had flown in from Iowa City for a weekend...just to hang out; nothing special. We had been having conversations about marriage, living in, social pressure, parental expectations...wondering what the big deal was and why people gave it so much weight.

For the past two years we had discussed the meaning of marriage and concluded that for us the act of getting married by itself didn't signify a binding contract.

A social ceremony is held to validate the couple's commitment to each other -- but why do we need to publicly show our promise? So we can be held accountable, right? But when the two people who made that agreement don't want to honor it anymore, can others really hold them to it?

My life partner had decided early on that marriage wasn't for him. He wanted to spend his life with me, but he didn't need the stamp of marriage to make him carry on that undertaking.

I, on the other hand, wanted the illusion of security that an official document (but not a social celebration) provides. It wasn't that I didn't' trust him; I was just too entrenched in the socio-cultural value system I had grown up knowing.

We decided to walk the middle road.

So, that Thursday when all we had decided to do was sleep and watch TV, we paid a visit to the local court house.

We hadn't intended to get married -- just get some information, find out the process, etcetera.

Seemed pretty straightforward -- fill out some paperwork, present your IDs, pay the 79-dollar fee for a marriage license and decide when you want to have the ceremony. Seeing as it was so simple, we did the needful and took an appointment for the next morning.

We arrived at the courthouse at 10 a.m. the following day -- me a little giddy; he his usual composed self.

We walked down the steps to the marriage ceremony room, were asked if we had any witnesses, and upon answering in the negative were provided one.

The County Deputy Marriage Commissioner asked if we had rings to exchange. Nope.

"Do you have a necklace for her?" she asked, knowing that in Hindu wedding ceremonies the mangalsutra was more important than the ring.

"No," he said.

She shrugged and said, "Alright then, this shouldn't take long."

Eight minutes and 80 dollars later, she had pronounced us husband and wife.

I don't even remember those eight minutes -- all I remember is feeling oh-so-grown-up.

And special -- here I was, standing next to a guy who despite his dismissal of the institution of marriage, had participated in this ceremony to show me he really, truly loved me.

He didn't have to do it, but he did it anyway.

And for me, the gesture meant more than the piece of paper we walked away with.

No one knew we were getting married.

I didn't know we would be married by Friday when I flew in the day before.

And we didn't feel any different. I retained my last name. We told our parents. And that was that.

From our point of view, that is.

Our parents' perspective was slightly different.

Both sets wanted a public display -- mine a little grander than his.

The planning conversations began.

Not with me, but amongst themselves.

For many months prior to my arrival in India, all that mom and dad talked and breathed about were "the arrangements."

I found this handy visual on Dazediva's site to demonstrate what their planning must have entailed.

My parents were planning a wedding and a reception in my hometown, followed by another reception planned by my in-laws in their hometown.

We were flying to India for 10 days during winter break (I was still in Iowa) and didn't want a grandiose celebration -- after all, we were already married.

Not according to my parents.

My folks didn't acknowledge the "paper wedding" for the longest time, because they hadn't "given me away." And until they did that, I wasn't "his." Needless to say, they hadn't mentioned our clandestine court wedding to anyone.

They wanted to invite immediate and distant relatives, friends, extended social circle acquaintances, colleagues -- everyone they knew for their only child's wedding.

I was treating it only as a symbolic event -- so all I wanted was for people I cared about and those who cared about me for the crux of the ceremony.


Eventually, after a lot of heartbreak, crying, and emotional blackmailing, the ceremony took place in my parents' living room. The wedding venue had been flooded the night before.

Only 12 people were present and the ceremony took all of 90 minutes.

Finally -- we had gotten the social validation.

We were done.

The two receptions that ensued allowed for more social acknowledgment -- with the guests commenting on the food, our attire, the decorations, and the entertainment.

Of course, they had come to bless us -- the rest of it was just social norms.

Despite not wanting to, we did it all. Growing up I'd realized weddings are such a waste of money. Money that could be used to benefit so many people who really need it, but I went along anyway because this was the only way I could show my parents, the same way he did for me, that I really, truly loved them.

And they needed to do the whole jing-bang because of peer pressure. What would their friends say? What rumors would their colleagues float? What would our relatives think?

This was their only child -- they had to do right by the society they lived in.

Almost a decade into this relationship, seven of which have been spent as his wife, I can reflect and say we really didn't need either of those ceremonies for us.

We needed them for the people around us.

Even though we are married, our friends will vouch that ours is not the traditional husband-wife arrangement.

We've never been good at playing those roles, and I hope we never learn how to.

For us, being together is all that matters.

Marriage is just a by-product.

Also posted on my blog.

Night of the Grasshoppers

The night of the grasshoppers begins at Khruu June’s house. Villagers start showing up with lamps strapped to their foreheads like miners, hauling empty bamboo baskets. We climb into a pick-up driven by June’s husband and set out through the deepening dusk. The sunset is spectacular, with thunderheads glowing an icy pink-and-blue in the darkening sky.
The truck rattles past the reservoir, leaves the lights of the village behind and heads out into vast, dark fields of Thailand. After a while, even in the dark, I can see that the fields we have reached are full of sugarcane. Abruptly, the pick-up shudders to a halt and everyone pours out. A gate that leads into the sugarcane fields is tightly padlocked. The truck can go no further. Everyone begins to climb under or over the gate, so I do, too. On foot, we pass a shack with no electricity. The three children who live there are standing out front in the pitch dark, silently watching us slip past by like a throng of ghosts rustling the sugar cane. We pass a pond, and we are still tightly clumped together. And then, as if a secret signal has been given, the group scatters in all directions.
The sugarcane towers above us. Most people wear headlamps or carry flashlights. Some carry flickering candles, which they hold up to the sugarcane stalks, in search of grasshoppers. When a grasshopper is spotted, it is plucked from its perch and thrust into the basket. Sweat pours down my body and heat lightning flickers in the distance. The basket I carry grows noisier as the night goes on, rattling with the sound of grasshoppers hopping madly inside. Somebody’s candle starts a small fire which somebody else stamps out. Among the boys, there seems to be a competition for who can capture the most grasshoppers. We roam the fields, which seem endless. After a couple of hours, I begin to feel claustrophobic, trapped among the towering sugarcane, yearning for open space, for a place to stop moving, to rest, and cool down. I’m wondering if we will ever find our way back out again.
Then a quiet young village girl comes and takes me by the hand. She leads me gently and doesn’t bother speaking, as if I am a deaf-mute. Now she parts the sugarcane stalks, bends over and peers inside. She turns and smiles up at me, beckoning. I bend over and peer into the thicket of stalks. Three baby birds are nestled in a row on a stalk, serenading us in the night. We pause in our attack on the grasshoppers and listen to their delicate, trilling chorus.
The reward for all this labor comes later, back at Khruu June’s house. It does not involve money, but food. Baskets upon baskets of grasshoppers are dumped into woks sizzling with oil. The taste is salty and crunchy, similar to popcorn. Some of the villagers won’t eat the grasshoppers until they’ve pulled their stomachs out, because the stomach tastes bitter. I learn, after a few tries, that I won’t eat them until I’ve plucked off their razor-sharp legs.
Also posted on my blog Strange Islands

365 Lessons-Lesson 158: Celebrate the Success of Others

I think I posted this lesson before in another context. Can't help it, there's too much to celebrate. I came home from teaching a little tired and worn out. Nothing exciting to report until I looked down on my dining room table and there it was. A book!

Not just any book, a book from a blogger friend. I can't tell you exactly when I *met* Tony Anders from Ohio. Well, we've only met virtually. Yet, like many online friends I have crossed paths with here and other places, I feel like I know him well.

Today I received something tangible from Tony. Something that I could actually hold in my hands. A gift. It was such a different experience. When you type a comment to someone on a blog, there's feeling there. But when you hold an actual book sent to you by someone you met through the internet, suddenly things feel "real"...that this is a real person with real emotions who really exists. Not to say that you all don't exist out there, but sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I wish we could all meet up. I'm going to make that one of my goals. Maybe I won't be able to meet all of you, but I'd at least like to meet some of you.

Anyway, Tony Anders has a wonderful blog called Artisan of the Human Spirit which is also the name of his book. He is also a writer on a collaborative blog I started called Writers Rising which now has 34 authors. I asked Tony if I could buy an autographed copy of his book. He was so sure that my book would be published that he sent me a copy in exchange for mine when it comes out. On the first page of the book he wrote:

Katherine,

Thanks for being a good friend in my writing journey! I hope our paths cross someday and we can celebrate our writing success over tea and yoga!

Tony Anders,
6/4/10

I sure hope we will do that Tony! Signs have been appearing lately. I think if we pay close enough attention, they are always there. Tony's book on my dining room table this evening really made my day and I felt it was a sign. In celebrating the success of others, we are actually celebrating our own success because we are all connected. It depends what we decide to tune in to. I decided to randomly flip open Tony's book as I was eagerly looking for more messages or signs.

The booked opened to a chapter entitled, "Why Not?" And I have to give you a little book preview as Tony's words really spoke to me. He said:

To me, the fact that anyone is reading these words is a miracle. My writing, as well as a plethora of other desires and goals, have been postponed, shattered and shunned by my biggest critic: me! Fear (False Evidence Appearing Real) and insecurity rented space in my head for so long I started to believe I did not deserve or live up to what was mine for the taking. I spooked myself, procrastinated, and then disappointed me and others. No longer will I live in fear and sabotage my own potential.

I have certainly been there. It took me years before I was willing to share anything I had written with the public. I didn't feel what I wrote was worthy enough for others to read. It wasn't flowery or lyrical enough, I didn't have a fancy vocabulary or earth shattering things to share. Just a few days ago I posted "Take a Nap," sure that that would put everyone to sleep. It actually got quite a few comments and an e-mail from....of all people...my mother! She loved the post. Maybe we don't need to put this pressure on ourselves to be "amazing." Maybe what people are drawn to is who we are, just as we are. We don't need to add or subtract anything to what makes up us. We are wonderful as we are.

Thanks for making me realize this today Tony! You are wonderful as you are and I celebrate your success today. I am very happy for you my friend and I hope you sell many copies of your book! Peace to you, Katherine

Here's a little video I made after I received your book today. I am in my front yard garden. I am speaking softly, so sorry if you can't hear me very well, but the neighbors were playing ball in their yard next door and were a little puzzled at who I was talking to ^_^!

Start the day with recess

The onward plodding slowed as we approached the building. Even though we are approaching the final three days of school, it is still school for three more days nonetheless. The weekend’s freedom was coming to an end, and the students in the courtyards and playgrounds started to converge on the doorways leading to the classroom.


As the children tried to find order in their excitement to prepare for their calmer “school-accepted” volumes and demeanor, the teacher emerged from the doorway. Normally she stands back and holds the door for the youngsters, allowing them passage. Today she extended her arms, keeping them at bay and forcing them to retreat and not enter the school room. The kids were shocked at their interrupted routine.

The teacher spoke these heavenly words: “Children, leave your backpacks here on the steps. Today we are starting the day with recess!”

The sky’s parted. Heaven appeared before all. Once the statement sunk in, my son raised his hands and shrieked as if exalting to the witness of a biblical miracle. It was the kind of shriek that I know windows shattered, car alarms went off, flocks of birds flew away, dogs started barking and forest animals jerked their head in startled amazement.

What a pleasant surprise!

Okay I am forty five years old; I still want to be able to start my day with recess from time-to-time. Maybe I can. I guess our interpretation of recess has maybe changed. I am aware that if I were to join the kids on the swings in the morning that is, well ...just creepy. I find that recess is simply a pleasurable break in the routine. “What” the break encompasses is subject to personal interpretation.

Upon reflection, I find that I have been finding ways to incorporate “recess” into my schedule recently; especially in the mornings. Since I often hit the ground running due to my obligations to my kids and having to get them off in time, I have found a greater need to regroup. Adhering to a strict and tight schedule can be something to admire, but to fill every moment of every day dedicated to a specific task can wear a body thin.

I have added 15 minutes to my alarm clock in the morning. I find that this is ample amount to be able to sip down a mug of coffee, catch up on some news, emails, or light headlines prior to getting the kids off.

I walk my kids to school in good weather. A little exercise never hurts anyone. On the way home today I had a pleasant conversation with the neighbor dog. It had been a while. It was good to see Scout again.

I also find that my music player is a great way to achieve recess at any given moment. My trips to the grocery, walks in the neighborhood, and other simple tasks take on a more serene feel in the presence of music. There is just something calming when life has a cool soundtrack. I have a tendency to look at things with more of a “cinematic appreciation.” I star in my own movie.

I guess for us adults, we need to find things that allow us to disconnect from the grind and recharge, if only momentarily. We often exclaim that we “do not have the time” for simple diversions, however we often find time for the “Today Show” or the “Bachelorette.” Hours and hours of it. I remember in school as a child, recess was often fifteen minutes long, and was a most treasured fifteen minutes at that. Try to retrieve your precious quarter hour my friends.

As we grow on and grow old, we mustn’t drift from the idea that recess is exclusively for children. Children are just wise enough to expect it as a nourishing part of their day. Of course we may look foolish if we were to run, arms a flailing, screaming, and twirling in circles; but wouldn’t it feel great?

The business man with his tie extended from his next in the centrifuge of a carousel, giggling with eyes closed hoping to not throw up. Maybe using his briefcase as a way to slide down a hill. Perhaps the female executive climbing a tree in her skirt, not concerned with social inappropriateness and brushing her hands off on the front of her readily available blouse. Restyling hair for the afternoon would be simply brushing your bangs out of your face on the way back to the boardroom. Okay maybe not. But it is fun to think about, and creates a comical mental picture.

Remember recess is where we exercise a little, temporarily lay down the routine, thumb our noses at the schedules, and simply “be.” We play, we live.

Simply we must remember to just take a few minutes. This gift we give to ourselves allows us to better give to others. We can start our day with recess. We can fit in some fun, some activity, some exercise; something that recharges and prepares us. We just have to prioritize it.

So twirl on my friends, run with arms in the air, and scream. And before anyone else says it: “Dibs on the swing!”

Tony Anders
Repost from Artisan of the Human Spirit

Just Be

I have spoken many times before in blog format about the frantic pace we lead daily, particularly here in the United States. I'm no different from the majority of people in this regard; I've been working diligently to establish a new branch of my writing services. The lagging economy affected everything about my writing career two years ago and I am still adjusting and laying new foundation blocks. So focused am I that I become my own worst enemy with taking care of myself, not getting enough sleep, not eating correctly and most importantly, not taking time off!


We all know the basic rules - you can't have day without night, hot without cold, light without dark, happy without sad. Subsequently that old axiom of "All work and no play makes Jane a dull girl" truly has merit and weight to it. When I begin to feel smothered in this manner, I know it is time to step back. So, recognizing that certain frustrations have been building within as I'm racing madly down the road to a serious lack of balance, my thoughts turn to the exact opposite of my current daily existence. In a word...FREEDOM.

What does it mean to you? Freedom. The very word conjures up all manner of emotions and mental images, feelings, expectations, hopes, dreams and wishes. Freedom represents my beloved country, the United States of America, with her symbol that of the noble Bald Eagle. I cannot witness one of these beautiful birds in flight without getting a lump in my throat and feeling the sting of tears. Watching these majestic birds wheeling freely across the blue skies seems to speak to something very elemental within most of us. When the word 'freedom' comes to mind, invariably, I mentally conjure up a bald eagle in flight.

Specific to my current frame of mind, freedom represents making a living doing what I love. Not being chained to a dead-end existence in corporate America, as that experience always slowly saps my vitality and energy. I chose to leave that world and pursue my own path with freelance writing. Yes, I am accomplishing that goal in slow and sure steps. Yet there is a niggling sense of frustration and lack that tells me I am getting in my own way. I tend to excel at dancing with this particular nemesis. So, with this recognition comes knowledge that it is time to stop. Simply stop everything and just be.

At times such as these, I always reflect on the few true vacations I've taken. One in particular was a 12 day trip to Hawaii. I went with a group of friends and because of the time zone changes wreaking havoc with my Circadian rhythms, I regularly awakened fairly early. Now, if you know me even slightly, you're aware that I'm not a morning person. Not even close! But during that time in Hawaii, I would wake up before the majority of my room mates, shower, dress and take a walk around the neighborhood where our hotel was located. Across the street was a Catholic church that was always open and I would stop there to sit in the quiet, holy space, listening to the birds singing and just soak in that blissful feeling of freedom we have on vacation.

I loved it - I chose what to do each day and I answered to no one but myself and the group of people I was with. No bosses, no phone calls, nothing but my own personal choices and whims for the day. I can remember being clearly conscious of the delight of that daily existence, feeling the surge of endorphins and pleasure coursing through me that freedom brings. This is what I need to find a way to incorporate in my life now.

Tomorrow will be a day of freedom. At times it is necessary to make a ruthless shift and literally walk away from the world for a moment. Breathing, embracing a certain isolation to purge what was becoming a tangled jumble. Focusing and being what some might deem selfish in order to come back to quiet, come back to balance and reconnect with the pureness of my dreams. An outward, deliberate and physical act of meditation. Recapturing that sense of absolute freedom and pleasure in just being.

Law of Attraction concepts dictate that unless we are feeling joyful, we are out of balance and out of connection with the Source, that which we call God/Universe/Spirit...the names for Divine Energy are numerous. I am feeling that disconnect and it is manifesting as frustration and dissatisfaction. Yet these same unbalanced emotions are tools. I am now at a point in my life and evolution where I am able to identify these potential obstacles much sooner than in the past. I am happy for this awareness, as it allows me to consciously shift and adjust more quickly. It isn't always easy or enjoyable, but it is necessary. It is also not feasible for most of us to live in an eternal vacation mindset. This is not what I am suggesting in this post; I mean more for us to access the pure happiness we experience when on vacation and create an environment that encourages those feelings to manifest daily. I have stumbled with this in my own personal daily experience, so it is time to recalibrate.

This moment in my life is high charged and delicately balanced. Webster's Dictionary defines the word Fulcrum thusly:

1 a : prop; specifically : the support about which a lever turns b : one that supplies capability for action

This is what I feel to be taking place - I am at one of those pivotal points. I can ignore the warning flags and emotions and continue to create more of a tangle in various areas of my life, or I can heed these emotions and be proactive. Obviously I am choosing the latter. This is not to say I am in the midst of crisis or impending doom; to the contrary, life is good. What I am focused on is making it better, and keeping a weather eye on anything that distracts me from embracing happiness and feeling a true sense of satisfaction in my existence.

What will this produce, this moment out of time? I have no idea. The main goal of the whole exercise is to just be. I am promising myself a day of bliss in whatever form that manifests. No contracts will be thought about; looming deadlines will not exist, bills can wait and troublesome connections are relegated to a distant back burner. I am taking a personal holiday and re-establishing the bonds within myself with the dreams I came here to accomplish. The laws of quantum physics and nature dictate that energy given is energy that returns, amplified. My intention is to dwell in an energetic mindset that is positive, happy and open to all that is good. Negative energies and people who get in the way of this objective are stumbling blocks that distract us all from dwelling in perfect accord and balance with our purpose and dreams. The amplified energies that return to me are within my ability to shepherd and guide. This is my own gentle reminder to myself that I chart my own course, and it is healthy and intelligent to choose happiness and freedom.

Oftentimes when I begin to feel bogged down with a lot of junkie energy, I meditate on the mental image of being suspended in the mist that blows down off a waterfall. I imagine that mist floating through my physical and etheric bodies, sweeping clean all dark spots, all smudges of other peoples' energies, dissipating fatigue and disappointments and leaving behind a refreshed person. A cleansed body, mind and spirit. This is such an effective mental meditation that I do it quite often...unless I allow myself to get distracted and caught up in superfluous issues, people and circumstances. Time now, to be. Just be.

I don't know if this will resonate with anyone else. No doubt anyone reading this post will remember a similar moment in their own lives where they had to slam the proverbial brakes on and symbolically leave the planet for a while. I'm off on a journey to reconnect with myself, take silken energetic thread and stitch my joyfulness back into brilliant, fluid fabric that will ripple and shine and as a Dream Catcher would, capture those corresponding energies that match my dreams.

Just be. That's the goal. Those are the instructions. Two simple words that allow a world of experience, releasing of spiritual blocks, and soaring until I feel renewed. Writing about this with clear intentions is already lifting my spirits and I am smiling as I come to a close. Perhaps this blog will nudge you to take a personal moment...a day of freedom for yourself. If so, don't freeze up - don't stress out, as those are contradictions of your goal. Be good to yourself. Be joyful. Be free. Breathe in each individual beautiful moment. Absorb it all. Release the negatives and for this one moment, concentrate completely and magnificently upon YOU. Just....Be.
________________________________

If you enjoyed this post and would like to read more, you can find me on Healing Morning blog.