That idea space in your mind will drift to sleep by the gentle rocking of routine.

Self-Compassion

I encounter an intense amount of guilt when looking back on moments where I hit the end of my rope, find my bucket of patience empty, hear myself say "I've got nothin' left".  With my kids, that's at least 365 times a year.  Frustration abated, I am diligent to apologize, letting them know that my love for them is strong regardless of mood.  But I drift off to sleep with thoughts of how they deserve a better mom, they don't deserve the anger of an adult; they are just curious beings learning the ways of the world, much like myself, and I wish not to squash that.

I observe in my world, that anger, sorrow, frustration, guilt, ect are all feelings within human nature.  I practice embracing it.  "Hello anger", and holding fast to its temporary nature.  The study of mindfulness brings me back to this again and again.  "youth is suffering, aging is suffering, sickness is suffering, dissociation from the loved is suffering, not getting what one wants is suffering"  "it is the common bond we all share" -Ajahn Sumedho

My role as a parent is a catalyst for learning, for providing the environment where they can collect tools in their tool belt for life.  Tools even, for how to handle their anger.  I find I talk a lot, but I see the best results when I've set a consistent solid example.  Pleases and Thank yous, napkin in the lap, underpants before pants, all mirrored behaviors that no amount of nagging would achieve.  Even my childhood memories lack phrasing, rather, comprises entirely of modeling, such as guiding me through a decision making process with presence and compassion rather than telling my stubborn being "no", how the adults around me treated each other, whether they picked up trash on the trail side, or donated their time to others.  I act just like, or just unlike, my parents.  Damn it then, my daily frustration, welling up, as I attempt to tell my kids what they should know. 

It occurs to me a victory I was not quiet enough to see until recently, and I thank my best friend for being the catalyst on this one.  The very act of recognizing my anger, taking ownership of it, talking out loud with them about when my anger has left me, what it felt like, that I love them regardless of how I feel, to address why I felt angry and collaborate on future improvement, IS in its very nature more powerful than any lesson I could consciously teach.

It is my responsibility to behave respectfully in anger, to avoid damaging words, and to respect another person's body. 

Each time anger arises, "hello anger" again I say; experiencing it with my children however authentically it comes out, learning gradually to describe it without threat or blame or condescension.  Responses like: "I'm going to spank you" or "you did this out of spite" or "you are a bad child" are learned reactions grounded in our own fear.  Be joyous in knowing, that if these reactions are present in your mind, they can be unlearned, if you wish.  Replacing them with phrases like: "I have a need to keep you safe", "I won't let you act that rough", or "I need two minutes of breathing, sit with me if you'd like".  

What I personally need to sit with is following through with compassion for myself when I have felt frustrated and acted out of anger.  That's not an easy thing to do, it's effectively my punishment for behaving so badly.  However, anger is not bad, and punishment does not have positive lasting consequences, nor is it deserved.  May I be so bold as to set a good example to my kids for extending compassion for ones self in time of error.  How liberating would it be for a child not to loath their harder feelings and accept them with grace, and knowing how to do it because they're copying their mom (and dad) grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle, or cousin who can do that too.

Compassion is thinking to ones self or vocalizing:  I am a passionate human being, with sovereignty of thought, and that sometimes includes anger.  May I be aware of ideas that improve the emergence of my anger throughout my lifetime.  May I remove the obstacles in my mind such as false beliefs, resistance, and misunderstanding, which prompt the Anger to arise.  "Hopefully each time it occurs, we learn something that makes it less likely to happen again." -MJ Kabat-Zinn

Candy Smorgasbord

Halloween is for dressing up, putting on a different persona, and racking up cute or horrific pictures.  In my family, I encourage costumes that are non-commercial characters with my kids, in hopes that they may play out their own authentic creature.  I love to watch their imagination unfold without the influence of someone's voice-over.

I am also a household of no sugar, which I've come to learn, means they get candy all day long, just not at home under my care.  Halloween is a tricky one, pun intended, with candy filling up their sacs.

We live in a neighborhood behind our kids school, and trick-or-treating is the thing to do on Halloween!  I'm no humbug, but I am that household that hands out packs of fruit gummies, pretzels, juice-based suckers, and pencils. I'm thinking Cuties this year too.  Mini Play-doh containers would work too.

Here's my candy policy when my kids bring home the loot: they get to pick out three pieces of candy to keep.  (I ignore what they eat on the trail).  For the remaining smorgasbord, I get out a stainless steel bowl and a roll of nickels and dimes, and make a big "kerplunk" sounds in the bowl with 5 cents for the little pieces, 10 cents for the big ones.  Regardless of what candy they bring home, I make it worth their while by giving them the purchase power for turning their candy into about $10 of their own.

Next Gen

Has the perception that the younger generations are lazier, impolite, hoodlums with bad grammar and listen to terrible music been this way since the dawn of time?  I wonder what generation it was that truly turned into crack pipes, a lesser specimen than their predecessors, if there ever was a tipping point.  Have we been degenerating every since?  This is all the while each wave of parents try their best to raise stronger, smarter, and healthier children, no less.

It is possible our human condition is so attached to familiarity that we failed to see the face of success in our successors.  This would suggest then the unit of measure is flawed.  If different is inherently uncomfortable, and we are measuring them against our agree-o-meter, they will always appear to fail.

How might a culture with this mentality be influenced in how they interact, trust, and enable young folks?

Evolution is both change and inevitable, change is generally disagreeable.  Maybe there is value or intentional-design in this dissonance commonly found between generations.  Maybe it is mental formations that serve us poorly to keep around.

There are many many assumptions above.  There may be assumptions with too big of a gap to jump, making the thought process above complete garbage.  What's out there that might scratch the surface of closing those gaps?

Just in case, post ways in which the Millennials are succeeding us.

War and Peace

My right hand has written all the poems that I have composed. My left hand has not written a single poem. But my right hand does not think, “Left Hand, you are good for nothing.” My right hand does not have a superiority complex. That is why it is very happy. My left hand does not have any complex at all. In my two hands there is the kind of wisdom called the wisdom of nondiscrimination. One day I was hammering a nail and my right hand was not very accurate and instead of pounding on the nail it pounded on my finger. It put the hammer down and took care of the left hand in a very tender way, as if it were taking care of itself. It did not say, “Left Hand, you have to remember that I have taken good care of you and you have to pay me back in the future.” There was no such thinking. And my left hand did not say, “Right Hand, you have done me a lot of harm—give me that hammer, I want justice.” My two hands know that they are members of one body; they are in each other.
-Thich Nhat Hanh

Life lessons from Cycling

My husband and I are avid cyclists, endurance, long hours in the saddle and the training time to be able to do so.  You could say it’s part of the glue that nurtured our early relationship.  Shortly before we got married, we bought a tandem bicycle.  Not the kind you leisure on at the beach, but the lightweight aluminum tubes, high performance disk brakes, and itty bitty saddles kind of bike.  We rode this bike fairly often, and as two strong cyclists, we realized we could average high speed on long distances, faster than each of us could average individually (definitely me).

In cycling, or endurance anything, comes an awareness of the physical body and the psychological phases that go with strength and fatigue.  On a tandem bicycle, where both are a contributing engine, the common goal is pungent,  sharing the passion for the undertaking, and the absolute of “doing your best”.  Doing your best sometimes means fresh legs, optimism, friendliness.  More notably though is when doing your best means sitting in, gasping for air, peddling lighter than you or your partner would prefer, and accepting that it is a necessary means to continue on this path together.  To allow, even in your own exhaustion, that your partner needs this time to recover, as a normal ebb and flow of being human.

We had a joke, a joke that spawned from frustration and strain, that is perhaps one that only a couple can humor together: “You’re not peddling hard enough”.  Affectionately, as awareness of each other’s need to sit in and refresh throughout the ride.  With life and two kids, we rarely get the tandem out any more.  But some days, when looking at a sink of dirty dishes, or another chore-in-need, I still hear in my mind an affectionate “You’re not peddling hard enough”, and I move forward knowing that we’re both Doing our Best, every day.

Nutrition Card

Admittedly and proudly, studying nutrition is one of my hobbies.  Nutrition, by which I mean, the act of eating mindfully.  My daughter put it best, "It's good for my mouth, but not good for my belly".  Even at 3 years of age when she said this, she's aware that some foods are better choices than others, and that it effects our moods and energy.  But don't we all stuff the cookie in our mouth regardless at one point or another. Mmmmm, cooookie.

One of the important topics in this blog and in discussion, for me, is the topic of what we eat.  How to minimize the rut of white flour and cheese, and maximize munching sun warmed kale from the garden's edge.  I have a surreal angelic image in my imagination at the moment.  And, how to help my kids make good food choices when they are outside the home.  "Good choices" is such a subjective statement, and the path we walk to attain that is fluid and fascinating.

Here is a card I wrote when my son was young that seems to capture our general nutritional beliefs.  I used this card to help guide our day care family.  As well, it is our grocery buying philosophy.