I am writing this blog for a few very different reasons. They will unfold in the writing bit by bit. An unexpected surprise emerging from the blog writing is that my kids here at home like discussing and reading the blogs together each day. The blogs have been a great catalyst for some wonderful conversations and even some tears.
My flute player deeply resonated with the trumpet post. For her, it suddenly made some challenging dynamics clear. It is hard to be a flute living with a very dynamic trumpet. The trumpet gets noticed. It is dramatic. People perk up to listen. The trumpet can join the jazz band and have more places to play. The flute is a lot more quiet. It is often in the background and is not always noticed in an upfront way. The trumpet really can drown out the flute and can completely overpower it, especially if it is not carefully directed.
Tears were shed and frustrations expressed as my flute felt acutely her feelings about her relationship with the trumpet. Somehow, through the expressing, there was a peace later in the day. She is deeply glad to be a flute herself. She likes playing the background melody. She is starting to appreciate herself and what she has to add. Nevertheless, it will continue to be hard. As one of the conductors of this orchestra, I am going to have to be creatively aware of this challenging dynamic. There will be more tears and frustrations, especially since the relationship is fairly new. Family relationships started when kids are older and all have deep insecurities makes for challenge. Lots of time and debriefing is important. Pulling our orchestra together and helping each instrument feel worthy and precious is not easy. There will be lots of discordant notes. There will also be moments of deep richness and complement. The various instruments do have fun playing together. They do take each other into places that they may not have gone alone.
Sometimes it is these very challenges that bring richness and growth. That is our goal. My precious flute, keep on playing the instrument that is you with integrity, the best you can.
Sunday, 30 September 2012
Saturday, 29 September 2012
A Different Way
Splatter painting. A different way. Yesterday I went on an art field trip with a couple of our kids. They have been learning about the artist, Jackson Pollock, and went to an art studio to splatter paint. I was inspired.
Pollock says that his painting is energy and motion made visible. He allows the paint to have a life of its own. He lets people have their own feelings about his work, whether it be anger, happiness, joy or frustration. He continues to splatter. Sometimes he notices that roots block the line of his art. He waits and then continues as the roots dissolve.
Some people may not consider this way of painting true painting. It may be thought of as second rate art. I was inspired because it is different, and in the difference there is beauty and possibility and hope. It speaks to me of allowing. Allowing a unique way. Allowing the paint to express.
We are all different and unique. Many of our children are very different. Not all of them have the possibility of fitting in or of doing things the way most of us do. Some cannot compete or even get started in our very competitive and fast moving world where often there seems to be just one "right" way of doing things. I want to grow in being able to allow my children and myself to have a life of our own. To express ourselves in unique ways of possibility that in their own way are beautiful. I want to have eyes and ears to be open to the differences and to see the beauty where others may only see the mess and disorganization.
Splatter painting makes art accessible to us all. Open the doors of your heart to be creative and to dissolve the roots that bind and keep us on one path. Allow and accept the differences and be creative in seeing the possibilities with the beauty inherent in those. There are many ways to express ourselves through paint. Similarly, our very beings can be expressed in many different ways. Allow and welcome those different ways.
Pollock says that his painting is energy and motion made visible. He allows the paint to have a life of its own. He lets people have their own feelings about his work, whether it be anger, happiness, joy or frustration. He continues to splatter. Sometimes he notices that roots block the line of his art. He waits and then continues as the roots dissolve.
Some people may not consider this way of painting true painting. It may be thought of as second rate art. I was inspired because it is different, and in the difference there is beauty and possibility and hope. It speaks to me of allowing. Allowing a unique way. Allowing the paint to express.
We are all different and unique. Many of our children are very different. Not all of them have the possibility of fitting in or of doing things the way most of us do. Some cannot compete or even get started in our very competitive and fast moving world where often there seems to be just one "right" way of doing things. I want to grow in being able to allow my children and myself to have a life of our own. To express ourselves in unique ways of possibility that in their own way are beautiful. I want to have eyes and ears to be open to the differences and to see the beauty where others may only see the mess and disorganization.
Splatter painting makes art accessible to us all. Open the doors of your heart to be creative and to dissolve the roots that bind and keep us on one path. Allow and accept the differences and be creative in seeing the possibilities with the beauty inherent in those. There are many ways to express ourselves through paint. Similarly, our very beings can be expressed in many different ways. Allow and welcome those different ways.
Friday, 28 September 2012
The Real Deal
Any family grafted together through adoption sooner or later has it either implied or stated from their child or from others that they are somehow not real. "You are not my real mom!" or "Are those kids your real kids? " are not uncommon to hear in our world.
Once we have curbed our sharp tongues, how do we handle these statements?
I am a second wife. Especially in the early days of relationship I often felt that I was really second best. I was not the real wife. The wife who had shared the firsts. The first home, the first child, the adventures of the twenties and early thirties as patterns were being set and lives built. I wished that I had shared those things with my husband. From my perspective, I envied those for whom marriage seemed more straightforward and an adventure of firsts. I resented the fact that often it seemed that sometimes I was treated as if I was first wife and not my own self. My behaviour and some events still do trigger old reactions and feelings in my husband that really have nothing to do with me. I sometimes have felt cheated out of the real thing. I have grieved my second place standing.
I am also the second, third and in one case fourth mother for some of my kids. Sometimes they say it and I feel it. I am not the real mom. The mom who shared the firsts. The first tooth, the first step, and even the first day of school. I do wish that I had shared those things with my kids. Sometimes I do envy those for whom parenting is more straightforward and 'normal'. I resent the fact that sometimes I feel like I am treated as if I am one of the earlier moms and not my own self. My behaviour and many events do trigger old reactions and feelings in my kids that really have nothing to do with me. I sometimes have felt cheated out of the real thing. I have grieved my second place standing.
For my kids too, I am not the first mom. I am not the biological mom. They look around and wish that their lives were more straightforward and 'normal.' They feel like they really are second best. They would like to look like me and the rest of their family like all the other kids. They wish they could share truthfully about their past in all those school projects without feeling so different. They wish their hearts did not have to daily face the unbearable feelings of being rejected. They wish they could have their real mom and their real family. These feelings sometimes loose their intensity, but they never really leave. They get pulled out in anger when life is intense and things are not going right. They feel cheated out of the real thing. Second place. For them their feelings are even greater than my own second wife or second mom feelings. I ultimately had choice in those decisions. My kids were powerless. They had no choice to be second or third or fourth.
The moments of not feeling like the real wife are decreasing after twenty five years together. We were once wisely encouraged that we would together make our own real history and life together. The moments of new and different firsts add up over time. Who says that being first is best? In times of anger I do sometimes discount all the joys of life with my husband, but nothing can remove those real moments and years that we have been together.
As parents we listen with ears of understanding. We try not to react when we are not acknowledged as real. In quiet moments later we listen. Listen and talk of feelings hidden underneath. Of roots that have been twisted and cut off. Of pain. Of our own unrelated feelings of times when it feels like we are cheated. For our kids it is a tough reality. Life has not gone in all the ways we all would have liked. But in the most real way of all, that is life. There are so many ways in each step of the journey of life that we do not have what we would hope to be real. Our hopes and expectations of what is first or best or real is often painfully different from our reality.
In those moments when I feel acutely the pain of second wife or second mom, I try to feel the pain for what it is. I try to disengage those feelings from what perhaps seemed to initiate anger of the moment. I help my kids do the same. I don't tell them they have to obey anyway. If they were birth kids they would have a different reason for not obeying the same rule. That part is not about real. That is about really wanting to do what is real for themselves in their own journey at that point.
So together we face the pain. Lots of things along the journey will not feel real. Our kids are getting the practice of how to cope with these life realities extra early and extra painfully. That is real.
Together too, we face whatever it is that is making us angry. The disagreement. The wanting to do it our own way and to be our own person. We listen and feel that too. We wait and step away from the raw emotion. In the best way we can, with the limited abilities we have, we try to unpeel and name the feelings. The feelings that initiated the angry outburst that we are not the real mom or the real family may be very unrelated. They may be more about the kids exerting their own independence and disagreeing with the request. The kids know our own areas of insecurity and are masters at knowing what will cause us to react. In their own feelings of powerlessness and rebellion they pull out phrases that certainly will get our attention even if they are not directly related to the feelings of powerless frustration. We address those things as we can.
Underneath all the daily bumps of family relationships, we do try to give our kids pride and acknowledgement of the reality of their own challenging and unique journey in life where we actually are the second or third or fourth family. We acknowledge all the strengths that have enabled them to continue to go on in their own reality. We try to be creative in building each other up, encouraging our kids to express themselves in ways we can hear while developing skills and attitudes that will stay with them as they face all the disappointments and pain of life.
Real. This moment right now is indeed the only real deal for now.
Once we have curbed our sharp tongues, how do we handle these statements?
I am a second wife. Especially in the early days of relationship I often felt that I was really second best. I was not the real wife. The wife who had shared the firsts. The first home, the first child, the adventures of the twenties and early thirties as patterns were being set and lives built. I wished that I had shared those things with my husband. From my perspective, I envied those for whom marriage seemed more straightforward and an adventure of firsts. I resented the fact that often it seemed that sometimes I was treated as if I was first wife and not my own self. My behaviour and some events still do trigger old reactions and feelings in my husband that really have nothing to do with me. I sometimes have felt cheated out of the real thing. I have grieved my second place standing.
I am also the second, third and in one case fourth mother for some of my kids. Sometimes they say it and I feel it. I am not the real mom. The mom who shared the firsts. The first tooth, the first step, and even the first day of school. I do wish that I had shared those things with my kids. Sometimes I do envy those for whom parenting is more straightforward and 'normal'. I resent the fact that sometimes I feel like I am treated as if I am one of the earlier moms and not my own self. My behaviour and many events do trigger old reactions and feelings in my kids that really have nothing to do with me. I sometimes have felt cheated out of the real thing. I have grieved my second place standing.
For my kids too, I am not the first mom. I am not the biological mom. They look around and wish that their lives were more straightforward and 'normal.' They feel like they really are second best. They would like to look like me and the rest of their family like all the other kids. They wish they could share truthfully about their past in all those school projects without feeling so different. They wish their hearts did not have to daily face the unbearable feelings of being rejected. They wish they could have their real mom and their real family. These feelings sometimes loose their intensity, but they never really leave. They get pulled out in anger when life is intense and things are not going right. They feel cheated out of the real thing. Second place. For them their feelings are even greater than my own second wife or second mom feelings. I ultimately had choice in those decisions. My kids were powerless. They had no choice to be second or third or fourth.
The moments of not feeling like the real wife are decreasing after twenty five years together. We were once wisely encouraged that we would together make our own real history and life together. The moments of new and different firsts add up over time. Who says that being first is best? In times of anger I do sometimes discount all the joys of life with my husband, but nothing can remove those real moments and years that we have been together.
As parents we listen with ears of understanding. We try not to react when we are not acknowledged as real. In quiet moments later we listen. Listen and talk of feelings hidden underneath. Of roots that have been twisted and cut off. Of pain. Of our own unrelated feelings of times when it feels like we are cheated. For our kids it is a tough reality. Life has not gone in all the ways we all would have liked. But in the most real way of all, that is life. There are so many ways in each step of the journey of life that we do not have what we would hope to be real. Our hopes and expectations of what is first or best or real is often painfully different from our reality.
In those moments when I feel acutely the pain of second wife or second mom, I try to feel the pain for what it is. I try to disengage those feelings from what perhaps seemed to initiate anger of the moment. I help my kids do the same. I don't tell them they have to obey anyway. If they were birth kids they would have a different reason for not obeying the same rule. That part is not about real. That is about really wanting to do what is real for themselves in their own journey at that point.
So together we face the pain. Lots of things along the journey will not feel real. Our kids are getting the practice of how to cope with these life realities extra early and extra painfully. That is real.
Together too, we face whatever it is that is making us angry. The disagreement. The wanting to do it our own way and to be our own person. We listen and feel that too. We wait and step away from the raw emotion. In the best way we can, with the limited abilities we have, we try to unpeel and name the feelings. The feelings that initiated the angry outburst that we are not the real mom or the real family may be very unrelated. They may be more about the kids exerting their own independence and disagreeing with the request. The kids know our own areas of insecurity and are masters at knowing what will cause us to react. In their own feelings of powerlessness and rebellion they pull out phrases that certainly will get our attention even if they are not directly related to the feelings of powerless frustration. We address those things as we can.
Underneath all the daily bumps of family relationships, we do try to give our kids pride and acknowledgement of the reality of their own challenging and unique journey in life where we actually are the second or third or fourth family. We acknowledge all the strengths that have enabled them to continue to go on in their own reality. We try to be creative in building each other up, encouraging our kids to express themselves in ways we can hear while developing skills and attitudes that will stay with them as they face all the disappointments and pain of life.
Real. This moment right now is indeed the only real deal for now.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
The Trumpet
One of our daughters is learning to play the trumpet. The trumpet is a perfect fit for her personality and she is so empowered by having the opportunity to play it. In reality, she has always been a trumpet player. She has played constantly, at full volume and in a key all her own. Maybe that is why it was not easy to get her settled in a family for many years. I am just sorry that no one noticed her trumpet playing qualities earlier. She has huge potential to be the most fantastic trumpet player with a little direction. She needs to play only when it is the trumpet's turn. She needs to learn how to control its volume and the notes. Her gifts of being outgoing, wonderfully expressive and full of surprise outbursts are a great asset to our family. She has needed to be appreciated for her distinctive qualities while having them tuned so that they can shine in a way that the rest of us can hear her music.
We are all part of an orchestra in our village. Sometimes it is difficult to fully appreciate the other instruments, especially if the players are learning and do not have skilled direction. We need a variety of different instruments to fully play the richness of music. Not all the instruments play at the same time. Sometimes certain instruments are in the background or have to wait a long time for their turn. A well placed cymbal can bring power to a piece of music. The double bass gives wonderful depth of sound. An orchestra benefits from a wide range of instruments to be fully expressive.
We had a great family dinnertime conversation discussing the instruments we are drawn to and which help to define us. Another daughter has always wanted to play the harp. Another is a flute and violin player. Another likes the piano. I love playing the guitar. Each instrument is unique and brings delight and fullness in its own way. Some instruments are an acquired taste over time. Look out for the natural music coming from the heart and personality of your children and yourself. Learn to appreciate and respect the varied sounds coming from the different instruments. Use your imagination for what a bit of practice and skill will bring. Help each person learn to fully play their own instrument effectively and with joy so that they can bring richness to the orchestra of your family.
We are all part of an orchestra in our village. Sometimes it is difficult to fully appreciate the other instruments, especially if the players are learning and do not have skilled direction. We need a variety of different instruments to fully play the richness of music. Not all the instruments play at the same time. Sometimes certain instruments are in the background or have to wait a long time for their turn. A well placed cymbal can bring power to a piece of music. The double bass gives wonderful depth of sound. An orchestra benefits from a wide range of instruments to be fully expressive.
We had a great family dinnertime conversation discussing the instruments we are drawn to and which help to define us. Another daughter has always wanted to play the harp. Another is a flute and violin player. Another likes the piano. I love playing the guitar. Each instrument is unique and brings delight and fullness in its own way. Some instruments are an acquired taste over time. Look out for the natural music coming from the heart and personality of your children and yourself. Learn to appreciate and respect the varied sounds coming from the different instruments. Use your imagination for what a bit of practice and skill will bring. Help each person learn to fully play their own instrument effectively and with joy so that they can bring richness to the orchestra of your family.
Wednesday, 26 September 2012
Breathe, Chew and Swallow
One of the most complex motor tasks that we do all the time is to breathe, chew and swallow. Many people cannot effectively do this task that most of us take for granted. They have to be fed through a button on their tummies where liquid food can be directly pumped to their stomachs.
Difficulty with coordinating breathing, chewing and swallowing in our emotional and spiritual lives can also significantly impact our lives. Sometimes we need slow down to take time to remember to take deep breaths. We need to chew quietly on all the kinds of nourishment we are given before we swallow.
I need to slow down and take time for those deep and quiet breaths. I want to chew for a while on all the many thoughts going on in my heart before I rapidly swallow and move on. I am still chewing on thoughts of village in our lives. This morning I read reports on the significant loneliness in our town. I heard a panel of mothers speak of their need for "village" support as they parent children with challenges. All day I have been ruminating on how we all need to continue to be raised by the gift of village already present in our midst. I need to stop, rub my eyes, and see the village that I am already very much a part of, taking my place to both give and receive.
Chew. Chew and take time to taste and receive the gifts of village given. Chew and take time to be nourished. Slow down to breathe, chew and swallow.
Difficulty with coordinating breathing, chewing and swallowing in our emotional and spiritual lives can also significantly impact our lives. Sometimes we need slow down to take time to remember to take deep breaths. We need to chew quietly on all the kinds of nourishment we are given before we swallow.
I need to slow down and take time for those deep and quiet breaths. I want to chew for a while on all the many thoughts going on in my heart before I rapidly swallow and move on. I am still chewing on thoughts of village in our lives. This morning I read reports on the significant loneliness in our town. I heard a panel of mothers speak of their need for "village" support as they parent children with challenges. All day I have been ruminating on how we all need to continue to be raised by the gift of village already present in our midst. I need to stop, rub my eyes, and see the village that I am already very much a part of, taking my place to both give and receive.
Chew. Chew and take time to taste and receive the gifts of village given. Chew and take time to be nourished. Slow down to breathe, chew and swallow.
Tuesday, 25 September 2012
It Takes a Village
It does take a village to raise a child. I think we all get the concept. Our kids need others who are not their parents who can help support them. People who will care for them and love them even when they can't tolerate us. We parents need community and family who will support us as we try to raise the kids and survive the best we can. The problem that I have run into is that in our fast paced culture where we are all trying to work, raise kids and do a million other things, it is difficult to find the village. It is difficult to be the village too. I would love to help care for other families more myself. We are an isolated bunch. It costs so much to live that we seem to have to work more. The kids are doing lots of activities, so they are not home much either. Often our extended families are scattered and maybe they were not too sure that we should be doing this adopting anyway. It seems like there is never enough time or energy. I often just feel run dry in the relationship energy department.
So where do we start to find the village? I must say the whole concept, though so important, makes me nervous and feel more than a little insecure. I have friends who have seemingly endless energy to develop meaningful community. I have wasted a whole lot of energy peeking over my shoulder at them and mulling over the things I haven't done to build community and that village.
So, I better get started. Start checking off the positive things I can do from my rather introverted self to try to build community. I smiled at the lady at the post office today, and chatted briefly. Check. I took some artichokes to share at work and spent a few minutes away from my paperwork to chat. Check. A beginning!
School. Maybe I can drive on that field trip. Get to know the teacher a bit. Pick the kids up and go into their classrooms once a week. Check.
Dance. Spend a minute to talk to the teacher and tell her how much the kids are enjoying dance. Check.
Church. We are fairly new, but the kids seem to know a few people already. Take them to the youth group where maybe they will get to know some kids and the leader. Check.
I do need to get better at seeing the village opportunities as they come alongside me and the family. The village has taken on different forms for each of our children. Some of these were designated godparents. Some have evolved naturally and others with significant intentionality on all sides. Some come into our lives often, and some just once in a while. One grandma bakes us cookies once a year. A friend takes the boys snowboarding. Another comes to the dance recitals. A neighbour has always been particularly close to one child. She remembers birthdays. Another neighbour loves building and has helped create forts. Another adoptive family has included older kids on adventures where the kids can help with their kids too. Foster families embrace the whole family. I just need to keep watching out and listening in my heart for the possibilities that work and do not overload me in the whole village department.
The kids by adoption have needed an extra boost in the area of relationships. No matter what the age of adoption, the reality of that primal wound of separation from birth parents is real. Their lives have a level of pain and trauma that has needed the help of skilled members of our village. I have brought in the resource of a therapist for them. For us it felt like starting the relationship with a family doctor. Maybe nothing specific to report right away, but a needed resource to keep a check on all our feelings and emotional health. Husband and I started these relationships for ourselves when the children first joined our family. We wanted the therapist's input and support for how to best support our children and ourselves. About a year after each placement we introduced the kids to the therapist as a resource person to talk to and help them with their hearts and feelings. We used different therapists for some of the children so they would have their own advocate. With some of the children there were significant issues to address. With one, we used the therapist as a person who could specially listen to her heart. She had never had anyone listen to her deeply and be interested in her as a person. She loved those sessions. For her, there were not many sessions, but she now has a relationship with someone who she feels deeply understands her and is her advocate. The children each feel that they have someone with expertise in feelings who can help them when they need it. In the heat of challenging and difficult problems, it is more difficult to consider getting help. Starting a new therapeutic relationship is scarey. We have tried to be proactive for those tumultous teen years. All of us can benefit from help understanding ourselves and our feelings at any stage. The relationships with moms and dads are more complicated for our kids. They need skilled advocates as part of their village.
Our village. Formed naturally and intentionally. Sometimes surprising and other times actively pursued. Watch for those gifts of people who are interested and engaged. Welcome whatever others can give. Start bit by bit building. Affirm the little steps. Give and receive. I am wondering if the village is more present than I can see. A gift to raise us all. The village.
So where do we start to find the village? I must say the whole concept, though so important, makes me nervous and feel more than a little insecure. I have friends who have seemingly endless energy to develop meaningful community. I have wasted a whole lot of energy peeking over my shoulder at them and mulling over the things I haven't done to build community and that village.
So, I better get started. Start checking off the positive things I can do from my rather introverted self to try to build community. I smiled at the lady at the post office today, and chatted briefly. Check. I took some artichokes to share at work and spent a few minutes away from my paperwork to chat. Check. A beginning!
School. Maybe I can drive on that field trip. Get to know the teacher a bit. Pick the kids up and go into their classrooms once a week. Check.
Dance. Spend a minute to talk to the teacher and tell her how much the kids are enjoying dance. Check.
Church. We are fairly new, but the kids seem to know a few people already. Take them to the youth group where maybe they will get to know some kids and the leader. Check.
I do need to get better at seeing the village opportunities as they come alongside me and the family. The village has taken on different forms for each of our children. Some of these were designated godparents. Some have evolved naturally and others with significant intentionality on all sides. Some come into our lives often, and some just once in a while. One grandma bakes us cookies once a year. A friend takes the boys snowboarding. Another comes to the dance recitals. A neighbour has always been particularly close to one child. She remembers birthdays. Another neighbour loves building and has helped create forts. Another adoptive family has included older kids on adventures where the kids can help with their kids too. Foster families embrace the whole family. I just need to keep watching out and listening in my heart for the possibilities that work and do not overload me in the whole village department.
The kids by adoption have needed an extra boost in the area of relationships. No matter what the age of adoption, the reality of that primal wound of separation from birth parents is real. Their lives have a level of pain and trauma that has needed the help of skilled members of our village. I have brought in the resource of a therapist for them. For us it felt like starting the relationship with a family doctor. Maybe nothing specific to report right away, but a needed resource to keep a check on all our feelings and emotional health. Husband and I started these relationships for ourselves when the children first joined our family. We wanted the therapist's input and support for how to best support our children and ourselves. About a year after each placement we introduced the kids to the therapist as a resource person to talk to and help them with their hearts and feelings. We used different therapists for some of the children so they would have their own advocate. With some of the children there were significant issues to address. With one, we used the therapist as a person who could specially listen to her heart. She had never had anyone listen to her deeply and be interested in her as a person. She loved those sessions. For her, there were not many sessions, but she now has a relationship with someone who she feels deeply understands her and is her advocate. The children each feel that they have someone with expertise in feelings who can help them when they need it. In the heat of challenging and difficult problems, it is more difficult to consider getting help. Starting a new therapeutic relationship is scarey. We have tried to be proactive for those tumultous teen years. All of us can benefit from help understanding ourselves and our feelings at any stage. The relationships with moms and dads are more complicated for our kids. They need skilled advocates as part of their village.
Our village. Formed naturally and intentionally. Sometimes surprising and other times actively pursued. Watch for those gifts of people who are interested and engaged. Welcome whatever others can give. Start bit by bit building. Affirm the little steps. Give and receive. I am wondering if the village is more present than I can see. A gift to raise us all. The village.
Monday, 24 September 2012
Laundry
A voice in me is muttering, okay, enough now. Switch it up. Change the style. Enough of the cat, raspberries, artichokes and now laundry with some twist of a sermon at the end.
I will. I will, but for now let me be.
Stay with what is working for my heart. Sometimes in all things we need to stay put for a while to let things take root and to fill us before moving on.
My life is mostly made up of cat, raspberry, artichoke and laundry moments. These are the moments that give me deep joy and contentment. Recently a friend reminded me of the blind man who shouts out to Jesus to have mercy on him. The people yell at him to be quiet, but he persists, and Jesus asks him what he wants. The blind man asks that he be able to see, and Jesus grants him sight, saying his faith has healed him. I have wondered what I want from Jesus. I too want to see. I want to see God. I want to see the hearts of my children. I also want eyes to see the small wonders all around me in my very ordinary days. The sacred moments of the raspberries, artichokes and laundry. It is those moments that this blog is really about.
Laundry does give me great pleasure. That tangled mass of wet and dirty clothes in the tub, sorted into whites and colours and put in the washer. On sunny days when I have time, I hang the clean wet things on the laundry tree around the corner on the patio, stuck in the sand where the hot tub used to be. I often remember days gone by in our last home where we had a pulley laundry line extending from our backdoor out over the garden. Sheets and towels flapping wildly in the wind, pulled off the line smelling fresh like a mixture of wind and sun. On most days, I hug the clothes, warm and fluffy from the dryer, dropping them to the space on the hall floor where they wait for folding. I like the soft and warm feel and the organized satisfaction of folding towels in neat rectangles. Most often the kids do the folding and delivery of the clothes to each room. We have at least twenty plastic laundry baskets bought by gardener husband in moments of frustration as he trips over the piles of clothes and we try to get organized, but still there are never enough. More often than not the baskets get left in corners all over, full of tangled assortments of clean and dirty whatevers.
There are wet masses of dirty crumpled laundry in the corners of my soul too. As my kids have processed their lives, we often speak of scooping up the moldy masses of forgotten memories stuck in the corner of their hearts, airing them out one by one and hanging them up as healing recognition of their own history. It feels good in the end. Just like the laundry.
I will. I will, but for now let me be.
Stay with what is working for my heart. Sometimes in all things we need to stay put for a while to let things take root and to fill us before moving on.
My life is mostly made up of cat, raspberry, artichoke and laundry moments. These are the moments that give me deep joy and contentment. Recently a friend reminded me of the blind man who shouts out to Jesus to have mercy on him. The people yell at him to be quiet, but he persists, and Jesus asks him what he wants. The blind man asks that he be able to see, and Jesus grants him sight, saying his faith has healed him. I have wondered what I want from Jesus. I too want to see. I want to see God. I want to see the hearts of my children. I also want eyes to see the small wonders all around me in my very ordinary days. The sacred moments of the raspberries, artichokes and laundry. It is those moments that this blog is really about.
Laundry does give me great pleasure. That tangled mass of wet and dirty clothes in the tub, sorted into whites and colours and put in the washer. On sunny days when I have time, I hang the clean wet things on the laundry tree around the corner on the patio, stuck in the sand where the hot tub used to be. I often remember days gone by in our last home where we had a pulley laundry line extending from our backdoor out over the garden. Sheets and towels flapping wildly in the wind, pulled off the line smelling fresh like a mixture of wind and sun. On most days, I hug the clothes, warm and fluffy from the dryer, dropping them to the space on the hall floor where they wait for folding. I like the soft and warm feel and the organized satisfaction of folding towels in neat rectangles. Most often the kids do the folding and delivery of the clothes to each room. We have at least twenty plastic laundry baskets bought by gardener husband in moments of frustration as he trips over the piles of clothes and we try to get organized, but still there are never enough. More often than not the baskets get left in corners all over, full of tangled assortments of clean and dirty whatevers.
There are wet masses of dirty crumpled laundry in the corners of my soul too. As my kids have processed their lives, we often speak of scooping up the moldy masses of forgotten memories stuck in the corner of their hearts, airing them out one by one and hanging them up as healing recognition of their own history. It feels good in the end. Just like the laundry.
Sunday, 23 September 2012
Artichokes
My friend and primary supplier of vegetable and fruit delights asked me if I would like some artichoke plants this time last year. The last time I had artichokes was in California many years ago. I will never forget the delicate and tasty delight sprinkled with butter and lemon. The unique challenge of eating the tender leaves by pulling the flesh between my teeth only added to the delight for me. As in all things, I enjoy the challenge of different ways of doing things, whether it be parenting through adoption or eating artichokes.
I was even more delighted when my friend told me that he could supply me with two kinds of artichokes. He carefully instructed me in how to plant them, keeping the one kind carefully in a tub as it is very invasive. We planted both the artichokes according to his instructions. By spring it was apparent that one of the artichokes was very eager in the growing department. My husband, the main gardener in our family, decided that maybe we got the instructions mixed up. It seemed to make more sense to give the eager grower more room. He too was already savouring those tasty California delights we had enjoyed those years ago. He put the artichoke in the main garden where it could only grow to bring us more of those fine delights.
A couple of weeks ago we noticed the artichoke we have been waiting for. One delightful globe artichoke, thistle like in its presentation, sat alone in the middle of the tub. It did not disappoint us in its taste. We only wished we had more.
I was encouraged, because standing tall all around the tub were a wild mass of tall tree like shoots, leafy and seemly productive in their size and bearing. They have grown and were towering over the garden like seven foot tall watchmen. My only concern was that I could not for the life of me find the globe thistle like fruit that we were expecting. Thinking they are hidden like the blessings of the figs amongst the thick greenery, I pulled over the stepladder to check the higher reaches of the plant. Still no thistles. Maybe they will come next year. Still, I called my friend, asking how to find them. "Roots" he told me. "Roots". They are Jerusalem artichokes, quite different than the tasty globes.
Heavy shovel in hand, the husband master gardener dug up the towering giants. Our daughter suggested we could use the stems for wood in the fireplace. Finally we saw them. Ginger like in their form, they were tubers among the tiny root ball. Hundreds of them. Hundreds there will be of these towering giants for years to come I am sure. Soon we will be passing out these surprising artichokes with the zucchinis. Except even when the zucchinis are gone, they will still be plentiful. We have cooked them up with lots of bay leaf to keep their tendency to facilitate the "breezy" qualities of our digestion at bay. Indeed, they too bring their own unique taste and delight. Nevertheless, we will curb their growth. Try to keep them in somewhat manageable numbers.
Roots. Tubers. Hidden but powerful. Like many of the habits and leanings of our life.
This week through some sharp words spoken, I stumbled upon a whole surprise new batch of tubers in my own soul, hidden blessings of challenge that deserve my attention and care to bring them to wholeness in the fabric of my life. Some things that need pulling out. Others need curbing back in their growth. Our kids are like that too. We think we have dug out many of the challenging habits and propensities from the roots of their lives. There will always be more. That is just part of life. Those tubers will persist. Welcome them. Try to find their hidden blessings. Use them to bring wholeness and healing. Keep digging out those that are destructive, taking over the good. Nuture the positive. Surprises both welcome and unwelcome in our lives. The task of tending our gardens in life is never over.
I was even more delighted when my friend told me that he could supply me with two kinds of artichokes. He carefully instructed me in how to plant them, keeping the one kind carefully in a tub as it is very invasive. We planted both the artichokes according to his instructions. By spring it was apparent that one of the artichokes was very eager in the growing department. My husband, the main gardener in our family, decided that maybe we got the instructions mixed up. It seemed to make more sense to give the eager grower more room. He too was already savouring those tasty California delights we had enjoyed those years ago. He put the artichoke in the main garden where it could only grow to bring us more of those fine delights.
A couple of weeks ago we noticed the artichoke we have been waiting for. One delightful globe artichoke, thistle like in its presentation, sat alone in the middle of the tub. It did not disappoint us in its taste. We only wished we had more.
I was encouraged, because standing tall all around the tub were a wild mass of tall tree like shoots, leafy and seemly productive in their size and bearing. They have grown and were towering over the garden like seven foot tall watchmen. My only concern was that I could not for the life of me find the globe thistle like fruit that we were expecting. Thinking they are hidden like the blessings of the figs amongst the thick greenery, I pulled over the stepladder to check the higher reaches of the plant. Still no thistles. Maybe they will come next year. Still, I called my friend, asking how to find them. "Roots" he told me. "Roots". They are Jerusalem artichokes, quite different than the tasty globes.
Heavy shovel in hand, the husband master gardener dug up the towering giants. Our daughter suggested we could use the stems for wood in the fireplace. Finally we saw them. Ginger like in their form, they were tubers among the tiny root ball. Hundreds of them. Hundreds there will be of these towering giants for years to come I am sure. Soon we will be passing out these surprising artichokes with the zucchinis. Except even when the zucchinis are gone, they will still be plentiful. We have cooked them up with lots of bay leaf to keep their tendency to facilitate the "breezy" qualities of our digestion at bay. Indeed, they too bring their own unique taste and delight. Nevertheless, we will curb their growth. Try to keep them in somewhat manageable numbers.
Roots. Tubers. Hidden but powerful. Like many of the habits and leanings of our life.
This week through some sharp words spoken, I stumbled upon a whole surprise new batch of tubers in my own soul, hidden blessings of challenge that deserve my attention and care to bring them to wholeness in the fabric of my life. Some things that need pulling out. Others need curbing back in their growth. Our kids are like that too. We think we have dug out many of the challenging habits and propensities from the roots of their lives. There will always be more. That is just part of life. Those tubers will persist. Welcome them. Try to find their hidden blessings. Use them to bring wholeness and healing. Keep digging out those that are destructive, taking over the good. Nuture the positive. Surprises both welcome and unwelcome in our lives. The task of tending our gardens in life is never over.
Saturday, 22 September 2012
Excalibur
I have been spending my evenings with my Excalibur. Somehow the idea of Excalibur brings a romantic Disneyish feel. The original Excalibur was King Arthur's sword. The name means hard battle. Often I am embroiled in hard battles and need a sword of truth to help me cut through. That is true, but I digress.
My Excalibur here is not a sword. It is a dehydrator. It was my first ever purchase through the computor. I knew we would be doing lots of fruit drying and I wanted a dryer that was strong and effective with lots of space. Excalibur is all that and more. It does a great job, transforming our bitter apples that were picked before they were sweet enough for the bears. Their sharp mouth scrunching bitterness is transformed by hours of heat into sweet and chewy apple rings.
There is lots of tedious work for me before the apples are ready for Excalibur. The apples need to be washed, cored and sliced. There are nine trays, so I count them by threes as I load them up. I put the larger pieces on the corners and outside edges, lining up the little bits protected in the middle. It takes about fourteen hours of forced air heat circulating through the trays to dry the apples. I turn Excalibur on at night and wake up to a sweet and warm appley smell wafting through the house. The dried apple slices are delicious and a favourite for the kids to take for their lunches and to share with their friends. Somehow much more tasty and user friendly for school than regular apples.
Sometimes I feel like those apples. There are areas of tart bitterness in me. Life often brings circumstances that seem like drying heat in my life. Life's challenges leave me feeling somewhat shrivelled inside. I pray that these times of unwanted heat will only help me to be sweeter, softer and more tender. The truth is, my own bitterness is not as easily transformed as the apples in Excalibur. I do have choice about what I do with the challenges and with the bitterness. I can chose to seek to be increasingly tender, loving and gentle through the hard times.
It is the same with our children. We cannot protect them from all the challenges and hard places in life. Sometimes these hard things do bring out wonderful qualities in our children. An Iranian friend who has known much suffering tells me, with tears in her eyes, that our kids need some suffering in their lives to help bring out their strengths. The butterfly struggling to emerge from the cocoon strengthens his wings in the process. He does not live if we cut the cocoon open for him. Each time we have adopted, I have seen amazing qualities in each of my children that have been brought out through their suffering. We always hear so much about the pain and difficult qualities in our kids by adoption. Look carefully for those amazing qualities standing with the others. I pray that my children would not loose those delightful qualities as they come into our home where life will be in some ways easier. I do not want them to feel that their essential being must somehow change as they come into the fold of our family. May our love and family support only strengthen the good qualities that were brought out through the suffering and the previous good in their lives. Do not try to protect your children from all the challenges of life. Help reframe the challenging times in their lives as part of their amazing life story that has helped to shape them into the wonderful people that they are now. Pray with them that the heat in their lives will only help transform their bitterness. Support them through their challenges and give them hope that it is through the hard times that they will grow and become more and more the people they are meant to be, full of strength, perserverance, tender love and gentleness.
My Excalibur here is not a sword. It is a dehydrator. It was my first ever purchase through the computor. I knew we would be doing lots of fruit drying and I wanted a dryer that was strong and effective with lots of space. Excalibur is all that and more. It does a great job, transforming our bitter apples that were picked before they were sweet enough for the bears. Their sharp mouth scrunching bitterness is transformed by hours of heat into sweet and chewy apple rings.
There is lots of tedious work for me before the apples are ready for Excalibur. The apples need to be washed, cored and sliced. There are nine trays, so I count them by threes as I load them up. I put the larger pieces on the corners and outside edges, lining up the little bits protected in the middle. It takes about fourteen hours of forced air heat circulating through the trays to dry the apples. I turn Excalibur on at night and wake up to a sweet and warm appley smell wafting through the house. The dried apple slices are delicious and a favourite for the kids to take for their lunches and to share with their friends. Somehow much more tasty and user friendly for school than regular apples.
Sometimes I feel like those apples. There are areas of tart bitterness in me. Life often brings circumstances that seem like drying heat in my life. Life's challenges leave me feeling somewhat shrivelled inside. I pray that these times of unwanted heat will only help me to be sweeter, softer and more tender. The truth is, my own bitterness is not as easily transformed as the apples in Excalibur. I do have choice about what I do with the challenges and with the bitterness. I can chose to seek to be increasingly tender, loving and gentle through the hard times.
It is the same with our children. We cannot protect them from all the challenges and hard places in life. Sometimes these hard things do bring out wonderful qualities in our children. An Iranian friend who has known much suffering tells me, with tears in her eyes, that our kids need some suffering in their lives to help bring out their strengths. The butterfly struggling to emerge from the cocoon strengthens his wings in the process. He does not live if we cut the cocoon open for him. Each time we have adopted, I have seen amazing qualities in each of my children that have been brought out through their suffering. We always hear so much about the pain and difficult qualities in our kids by adoption. Look carefully for those amazing qualities standing with the others. I pray that my children would not loose those delightful qualities as they come into our home where life will be in some ways easier. I do not want them to feel that their essential being must somehow change as they come into the fold of our family. May our love and family support only strengthen the good qualities that were brought out through the suffering and the previous good in their lives. Do not try to protect your children from all the challenges of life. Help reframe the challenging times in their lives as part of their amazing life story that has helped to shape them into the wonderful people that they are now. Pray with them that the heat in their lives will only help transform their bitterness. Support them through their challenges and give them hope that it is through the hard times that they will grow and become more and more the people they are meant to be, full of strength, perserverance, tender love and gentleness.
Friday, 21 September 2012
ReCreation in Play
It is always a shock to the system to head back to school. For our kids with challenges at school it is even more of a shock. Our four youngest had a most wonderful summer. They played freely and happily with one another for hours. Even though they are now teens, they still like playing on playgrounds, balancing and swinging for whole afternoons. When they were younger, we drove to many different parks in our town. Now they can bicycle or scooter to one of three accessible creative playgrounds in our neighbourhood. When they weren't on playgrounds this summer, they were playing hide and seek, biking and exploring. They frequently brought out the Barbies and plastic horses and stuffies. They were happy to play by themselves and never asked to play with other kids their age. The truth is, they love to play at a level much much younger than their chronological age. They have missed so much of their childhood and they delight in childhood play. It is so easy to forget that often our children have a much younger emotional age than their chronological age. It is so important to provide opportunities to allow them to play at a their own level in ways that are still socially acceptable.
School and peer groups bring added levels of pressure for my kids. A couple of them are so emotionally exhausted at the end of the day that they go to bed at six o'clock and do not wake up until morning. We make sure that we protect private play time for them. I encourage them to head off to the playgrounds after school to balance, swing and move freely. We do a lot of swimming where they can plunge and jump and play in the water. Their bodies crave the big muscle activity and sensory input of all these activities. I talk to their teachers and arrange for adjustments in the amount of homework. Their minds and emotions need a place of safe rest.
It is not easy to juggle the social demands of being a teen with the inner needs and ages of our kids. It takes creativity and time and constant awareness of the many directions that our kids are being pulled. I have always tried to work part time so that I can be home when school is over. As a parent, we have some clear guidelines. Sleepovers do not work for our kids. Weekday play times with peers are challenging and usually kept until the weekend. Even then, we chose carefully selected activities like the monthly community teen pool parties at our recreation centre and youth group activities through the church. We have had to be selective with the number of activities that the kids can handle, but they all take some dance and swimming lessons where they have all made friends while doing big muscle activities and gaining socially acceptable lifetime recreation skills. We are fortunate to be able to have choice of where to do activities too. We chose places that have teachers who are noncompetitive and inclusive. Over the years we have explored skating, therapeutic riding, climbing, trampoline and gymnastics and art and music classes too.
When I used to read about how many kids have different chronological and emotional ages it all seemed clear. In real life, sometimes there are much greater areas of subtlety. It is easy to miss and to have way too high expectations for our kids. Watch carefully for signs of stress and anxiety in your kids. Be around them lots. Be creative. There will be lots of crashes, but being proactive in providing what our kids need sure helps give them some possibilities for appropriate social and emotional growth with recreational interests to last them a lifetime.
School and peer groups bring added levels of pressure for my kids. A couple of them are so emotionally exhausted at the end of the day that they go to bed at six o'clock and do not wake up until morning. We make sure that we protect private play time for them. I encourage them to head off to the playgrounds after school to balance, swing and move freely. We do a lot of swimming where they can plunge and jump and play in the water. Their bodies crave the big muscle activity and sensory input of all these activities. I talk to their teachers and arrange for adjustments in the amount of homework. Their minds and emotions need a place of safe rest.
It is not easy to juggle the social demands of being a teen with the inner needs and ages of our kids. It takes creativity and time and constant awareness of the many directions that our kids are being pulled. I have always tried to work part time so that I can be home when school is over. As a parent, we have some clear guidelines. Sleepovers do not work for our kids. Weekday play times with peers are challenging and usually kept until the weekend. Even then, we chose carefully selected activities like the monthly community teen pool parties at our recreation centre and youth group activities through the church. We have had to be selective with the number of activities that the kids can handle, but they all take some dance and swimming lessons where they have all made friends while doing big muscle activities and gaining socially acceptable lifetime recreation skills. We are fortunate to be able to have choice of where to do activities too. We chose places that have teachers who are noncompetitive and inclusive. Over the years we have explored skating, therapeutic riding, climbing, trampoline and gymnastics and art and music classes too.
When I used to read about how many kids have different chronological and emotional ages it all seemed clear. In real life, sometimes there are much greater areas of subtlety. It is easy to miss and to have way too high expectations for our kids. Watch carefully for signs of stress and anxiety in your kids. Be around them lots. Be creative. There will be lots of crashes, but being proactive in providing what our kids need sure helps give them some possibilities for appropriate social and emotional growth with recreational interests to last them a lifetime.
Thursday, 20 September 2012
Guilt
Saying "no" to the cat was the right thing to do. Not all decisions are as straightforward and clear. Some never feel right.
I am often plagued with guilt from saying "no" in our adoption journey.
We have said "no" to children in need. We have not adopted all the children linked with our own. These kids still do not have fresh last names and homes and families to love them. Our adoption story is not a neat and well wrapped package of whole sibling groups cared for and adopted by us.
We have said "no." Not an easy "no." Decisions made after many sleepless nights and wrestling in our hearts. Decisions and children still not easy to face.
We have reasons and justifications and social workers agreements. But it is still a heart rending and difficult "no."
We are not the only ones who have made difficult and less than perfect decisions, but we have often felt alone on this part of our journey. As we have been longer in the adoption world, we have shared similar heartbreaks with others. In some ways by its very nature, there is a deep sense of "never enough" in adoption. Not all the stories feel complete and restored.
Do the best you can. Get insight and support from your social workers. Care for those people in your life that you have been given. Protect their hearts and lives. Do your best. Care in ways that are appropriate and possible. Pray for the rest. Pray deeply. And let go.
I am often plagued with guilt from saying "no" in our adoption journey.
We have said "no" to children in need. We have not adopted all the children linked with our own. These kids still do not have fresh last names and homes and families to love them. Our adoption story is not a neat and well wrapped package of whole sibling groups cared for and adopted by us.
We have said "no." Not an easy "no." Decisions made after many sleepless nights and wrestling in our hearts. Decisions and children still not easy to face.
We have reasons and justifications and social workers agreements. But it is still a heart rending and difficult "no."
We are not the only ones who have made difficult and less than perfect decisions, but we have often felt alone on this part of our journey. As we have been longer in the adoption world, we have shared similar heartbreaks with others. In some ways by its very nature, there is a deep sense of "never enough" in adoption. Not all the stories feel complete and restored.
Do the best you can. Get insight and support from your social workers. Care for those people in your life that you have been given. Protect their hearts and lives. Do your best. Care in ways that are appropriate and possible. Pray for the rest. Pray deeply. And let go.
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
I am a yes person. I am always on the lookout for where I can say yes. Sometimes it is much harder to say no. No is equally as important as yes.
There have been many further chapters unwritten on the appearing and disappearing cat in our lives. He appeared again for quite some time. Enough time that I bought food and a litter box and made an appointment for taking him to the vet. We drafted up plans for his winter home outside as some of our crew are allergic and he could not live inside. I praised myself for being so kind and openhearted to this stray. God was using us to care for him. He was becoming part of the family in spite of his propensity to stay away for long periods.
He was significant enough to be part of the big family news. One son was recounting the story of the cat while away at college in a town many miles away. Listening to the story was a fellow student who lives near us when she is not a student. She recognized her cat. The family had recently got a dog and despite numerous attempts to reassure the cat, he had decided that there was no longer room for him in their home. Our cat has a name and a family and many people who love him and have missed him.
We took him immediately down our road to his rightful home.
The cat keeps coming back. We have given away his food and his supplies. He has a home and people who love him. We are not his home. I let our dog bark at him and scare him away. He needs to go where he belongs and get used to the changes in his own home. We were making it way too easy for him to avoid the adjustments that he is fully able to make.
I am reminded that I need to be careful. Not all the ways that I think God is leading me to be of use are legitimate. I need to be careful that in my own desire to feel useful, I am not enabling others to avoid their own places where they need to say yes. I actually really do like the cat in our lives. I like being the person that attracts the strays. It is hard to say no.
May I have wisdom to know when it is right to say no.
There have been many further chapters unwritten on the appearing and disappearing cat in our lives. He appeared again for quite some time. Enough time that I bought food and a litter box and made an appointment for taking him to the vet. We drafted up plans for his winter home outside as some of our crew are allergic and he could not live inside. I praised myself for being so kind and openhearted to this stray. God was using us to care for him. He was becoming part of the family in spite of his propensity to stay away for long periods.
He was significant enough to be part of the big family news. One son was recounting the story of the cat while away at college in a town many miles away. Listening to the story was a fellow student who lives near us when she is not a student. She recognized her cat. The family had recently got a dog and despite numerous attempts to reassure the cat, he had decided that there was no longer room for him in their home. Our cat has a name and a family and many people who love him and have missed him.
We took him immediately down our road to his rightful home.
The cat keeps coming back. We have given away his food and his supplies. He has a home and people who love him. We are not his home. I let our dog bark at him and scare him away. He needs to go where he belongs and get used to the changes in his own home. We were making it way too easy for him to avoid the adjustments that he is fully able to make.
I am reminded that I need to be careful. Not all the ways that I think God is leading me to be of use are legitimate. I need to be careful that in my own desire to feel useful, I am not enabling others to avoid their own places where they need to say yes. I actually really do like the cat in our lives. I like being the person that attracts the strays. It is hard to say no.
May I have wisdom to know when it is right to say no.
Tuesday, 18 September 2012
Cherish
My fifteen year old daughter likes to curl up in my lap for a long hug after a full day at school. She surprised me tonight by asking me if I cherish her. We get so used to telling one another that we love them. Cherish was a word filled with deeper meaning for me tonight. It has a gentle and caring quality. It actually means to protect and care for someone lovingly. It has the sense of keeping one another in our minds and holding them dear. It is full of action and intent. I want to be cherished and grow in cherishing those around me. Cherish.
Monday, 17 September 2012
The Cost of Relationship
This week I get to see my psychologist. It is a very expensive hour of relationship. I check in with her every month or so now, but for several months I made the trek to see her weekly. For a long time I resisted the need and sense of unwellness that propelled me to drive an hour to see her each week. Nevertheless, I could not manage without her. My feelings are changing now. I only wish I had acknowledged my need and her worth years ago.
For most of my life I thought that it would be a frivolous extra to expose my needs and see a therapist for myself. I thought that I should wait for completely overwhelming issues to emerge before investing in a therapeutic relationship. I felt I should be able to be a healthy person by myself with God's help and love. Gradually I have come to see that God wired us to be in relationship. He made us deep and complicated people who need others to help us grow and be fully human. Although it may seem that a therapeutic relationship is artificial, in every culture God has given some people the gift and training in emotional wisdom. We are all God's hands in the lives of others. Life is a dance of giving and receiving. I have needed to learn to receive care and deep understanding from my therapist and in turn from myself and others. I could not make the link between what I knew in my mind and in my heart by myself. I could not regulate myself well by myself. Ironically, the therapist has also helped me to more deeply receive from God. She is God's gift to me. His wisdom through a person.
The adoption journey has brought me an abundance of gifts. One of the greatest of these for me has been that adoption pushed me to the edge of myself so that I saw my own weakness and my deep need for help. I am both strong and weak. My weaknesses now stand beside my strengths as blessing. Weakness lead me to a unique relationship with a therapist. This relationship is not artificial, but special in its design. It has very clear boundaries of time and shape. It costs a lot of money. My family and I have had to do without other things in order for me to afford it. I am struck that all our important relationships are exceedingly valuable. The currency of their value may not be in money. Their cost is often significantly more than what my therapist charges. My perspective has changed. Certainly we all have our places where we are unwell, but we all have great strengths of wellness in our souls. For me seeing the psychologist helps to nuture the depths of my wellness. I need to be deeply known and understood by someone whose roots and branches are not tangled up with mine. I need her fresh and unencumbered perspectives. Seeing her is another way of running the hose and filling up the bird bath of my heart.
Dig deep into the depths of your wellness. Actively do those things that nourish and fill it up. The primary person we can have hope to change and build up is ourselves. If you are stuck in your soul, reach out for help. Friends, pastors, or therapists may be able to help. Be careful and discerning about who you chose to be an advocate for your soul. They need to be people of wisdom and insight who you like and respect, so interview them first. It may take a few tries to find someone that meets your needs. It may cost money. Remember, whether or not money is involved, there is always great value. If you do not seek help when your heart is crying out and you feel stuck, there is a far greater cost to your soul and family than anything money can buy.
For most of my life I thought that it would be a frivolous extra to expose my needs and see a therapist for myself. I thought that I should wait for completely overwhelming issues to emerge before investing in a therapeutic relationship. I felt I should be able to be a healthy person by myself with God's help and love. Gradually I have come to see that God wired us to be in relationship. He made us deep and complicated people who need others to help us grow and be fully human. Although it may seem that a therapeutic relationship is artificial, in every culture God has given some people the gift and training in emotional wisdom. We are all God's hands in the lives of others. Life is a dance of giving and receiving. I have needed to learn to receive care and deep understanding from my therapist and in turn from myself and others. I could not make the link between what I knew in my mind and in my heart by myself. I could not regulate myself well by myself. Ironically, the therapist has also helped me to more deeply receive from God. She is God's gift to me. His wisdom through a person.
The adoption journey has brought me an abundance of gifts. One of the greatest of these for me has been that adoption pushed me to the edge of myself so that I saw my own weakness and my deep need for help. I am both strong and weak. My weaknesses now stand beside my strengths as blessing. Weakness lead me to a unique relationship with a therapist. This relationship is not artificial, but special in its design. It has very clear boundaries of time and shape. It costs a lot of money. My family and I have had to do without other things in order for me to afford it. I am struck that all our important relationships are exceedingly valuable. The currency of their value may not be in money. Their cost is often significantly more than what my therapist charges. My perspective has changed. Certainly we all have our places where we are unwell, but we all have great strengths of wellness in our souls. For me seeing the psychologist helps to nuture the depths of my wellness. I need to be deeply known and understood by someone whose roots and branches are not tangled up with mine. I need her fresh and unencumbered perspectives. Seeing her is another way of running the hose and filling up the bird bath of my heart.
Dig deep into the depths of your wellness. Actively do those things that nourish and fill it up. The primary person we can have hope to change and build up is ourselves. If you are stuck in your soul, reach out for help. Friends, pastors, or therapists may be able to help. Be careful and discerning about who you chose to be an advocate for your soul. They need to be people of wisdom and insight who you like and respect, so interview them first. It may take a few tries to find someone that meets your needs. It may cost money. Remember, whether or not money is involved, there is always great value. If you do not seek help when your heart is crying out and you feel stuck, there is a far greater cost to your soul and family than anything money can buy.
Sunday, 16 September 2012
Rest
In our culture our need for rest is often seen as a sign of weakness. We praise those who are strong and able to work long hours. We disdain our human need for rest and often push it away, sleeping less and working and playing more. My actions and heart implicitly embrace this perspective. I am proud of myself when I work hard and complete projects. I notice when I am able to do more than others.
Our lives are less because of this orientation. Rest was part of the order of creation right at the very beginning. Placing rest as an optional extra and as less important than work has deeply scarred the landscape of our being and our culture. We need the spaces and empty reaches in the gardens of our lives. Life is full of paradoxes that need to be acknowledged and lived actively in their tension. Work and rest are both deeply woven into our being.
By its nature, rest cannot be stored up. It needs to be a part of the very fabric of our daily lives. Each day take time to rest, to be alone, to be still and quiet. We are often encouraged to take quiet time with God early each morning. Our times with God are vitally important, but so is our sleep. If you get up early, then go to bed earlier. Do not trade time with God for physical rest. In order to have rest and space, we need to remove things. There will be things we cannot do. We are not wired to do everything. It is only when our ego and need for recognition gets in the way that we cannot let go. Rest may seem impossible when we are caring for small children or those who are needy and not well. Be creative. Rest may look more like breathers of time where we let the children watch a favorite television show, have down time to look at picture books for five minute intervals, or we take them on a walk. It may be that we let go of some of our multitasking for a time. Even our most active children also need to know how to rest from our example.
It is only in the rest and stillness that we are able to hear the quiet voices of what we are called to do. Let go of the other things even though they may be good things. Our lives will not appear perfect, but it is only in the imperfection that there is truly the richness of life. Some things will be left incomplete and undone. Listen in the times of rest and do what is most important. In these times of outer rest we will also begin to know the glimpses of deeper stretches of rest of the soul in God that can be with us always.
Rest. An organized friend of mine once spelled it out in a helpful way. He scheduled eight hours of sleep each night. He took an hour of waking time each day to rest. Scheduled a day each week. A weekend each month. A week each few months. For you it may look different, but be creative and innovative. Find rest.
Our lives are less because of this orientation. Rest was part of the order of creation right at the very beginning. Placing rest as an optional extra and as less important than work has deeply scarred the landscape of our being and our culture. We need the spaces and empty reaches in the gardens of our lives. Life is full of paradoxes that need to be acknowledged and lived actively in their tension. Work and rest are both deeply woven into our being.
By its nature, rest cannot be stored up. It needs to be a part of the very fabric of our daily lives. Each day take time to rest, to be alone, to be still and quiet. We are often encouraged to take quiet time with God early each morning. Our times with God are vitally important, but so is our sleep. If you get up early, then go to bed earlier. Do not trade time with God for physical rest. In order to have rest and space, we need to remove things. There will be things we cannot do. We are not wired to do everything. It is only when our ego and need for recognition gets in the way that we cannot let go. Rest may seem impossible when we are caring for small children or those who are needy and not well. Be creative. Rest may look more like breathers of time where we let the children watch a favorite television show, have down time to look at picture books for five minute intervals, or we take them on a walk. It may be that we let go of some of our multitasking for a time. Even our most active children also need to know how to rest from our example.
It is only in the rest and stillness that we are able to hear the quiet voices of what we are called to do. Let go of the other things even though they may be good things. Our lives will not appear perfect, but it is only in the imperfection that there is truly the richness of life. Some things will be left incomplete and undone. Listen in the times of rest and do what is most important. In these times of outer rest we will also begin to know the glimpses of deeper stretches of rest of the soul in God that can be with us always.
Rest. An organized friend of mine once spelled it out in a helpful way. He scheduled eight hours of sleep each night. He took an hour of waking time each day to rest. Scheduled a day each week. A weekend each month. A week each few months. For you it may look different, but be creative and innovative. Find rest.
Saturday, 15 September 2012
Arugula
The leafy herb vegetable arugula is not well known. It is actually not easy to find in planting season. I usually have to order the seeds specially. Even though it is rare, it is a great delight for our family. We eat enormous amounts of this leafy extra. In the fall when most of my lettuce has bolted, it is still going strong and I use it instead of lettuce. It has a sharp and unique taste that is rare and distinctive. A few of my kids find it altogether too distinctive in its hot sharp nutty flavour. That doesn't bother me. Just leaves more for those of us who cannot do without it.
Sometimes people are like arugula. Sharp and distinctive and a bit nutty. We may think we need to help these people be less eccentric and unique. When we were beginning our adoption journey, one of the social workers called my husband "quirky". I thought our chances of adopting were probably pretty slim because of some of our rather distinctive ways. When our first child through adoption arrived, I realized immediately that it was going to work. She too is very "quirky." She is just like her Dad. It was a great match. Each of the children since then have also had their own distinctive gifts. We have lots of sharp uniqueness in our family. We would probably be among the more rare plants on the nursery benches.
I seek out people who are full of life and unique sharp flavour. I chose my husband for his characterful quirkyness. Deep down, I love the fact that each of my children are distinctive and just a little bit different. In all honesty, however, a big part of me has always tried to change my own unique ways to be more acceptable. I have tried to round off my sharper edges. I have also tried to make sure that my children are not too eccentric in their sharp differences. Life with its challenges and disappointments is changing me. I am now learning to love myself just as I am, with my own flavour and rather quirky and distinctive edges. As I learn to love myself, I am relaxing in also letting my children grow from within their own hearts and experiences without trying to fit them in some socially acceptable mold. We cannot do without the arugula attributes in our own hearts and family. Encourage your children and families to be who they are with the richness of all that life has brought them, both good and challenging. Difference and eccentricity is what brings energy, flavour and life to our days.
Sometimes people are like arugula. Sharp and distinctive and a bit nutty. We may think we need to help these people be less eccentric and unique. When we were beginning our adoption journey, one of the social workers called my husband "quirky". I thought our chances of adopting were probably pretty slim because of some of our rather distinctive ways. When our first child through adoption arrived, I realized immediately that it was going to work. She too is very "quirky." She is just like her Dad. It was a great match. Each of the children since then have also had their own distinctive gifts. We have lots of sharp uniqueness in our family. We would probably be among the more rare plants on the nursery benches.
I seek out people who are full of life and unique sharp flavour. I chose my husband for his characterful quirkyness. Deep down, I love the fact that each of my children are distinctive and just a little bit different. In all honesty, however, a big part of me has always tried to change my own unique ways to be more acceptable. I have tried to round off my sharper edges. I have also tried to make sure that my children are not too eccentric in their sharp differences. Life with its challenges and disappointments is changing me. I am now learning to love myself just as I am, with my own flavour and rather quirky and distinctive edges. As I learn to love myself, I am relaxing in also letting my children grow from within their own hearts and experiences without trying to fit them in some socially acceptable mold. We cannot do without the arugula attributes in our own hearts and family. Encourage your children and families to be who they are with the richness of all that life has brought them, both good and challenging. Difference and eccentricity is what brings energy, flavour and life to our days.
Friday, 14 September 2012
The Bird Bath
Right next to the raspberry canes and underneath a paperbark maple tree on the corner of the porch is a bird bath. I love watching the birds come to gently drink. Other times they come to splash and bath, wings flapping.
With fall in the air, it has been busy. I have not been taking the time to sit quietly on the porch. I have forgotten to pull over the hose and clean and fill the bird bath. Yesterday I took time to notice that the water was green and full of dirt. Long strings of slime were moving in from the edges. No birds were around. They had noticed days ago.
I tipped the dirty thick water out, got a scrub brush and hose and cleaned and filled the bird bath again. It was so satisfying to have fresh clear water in the shallow dish of the bath. I let the hose fill and refill it to overflowing for a long time. When I was all done, the water seemed lighter and the breeze ruffled the surface. It took no time before the chickadees were flitting around again, drinking deeply from the clear.
My soul is like that bird bath. I have neglected it lately too. Like the bird bath, it doesn't take long before it has become thick and full of dirt. Without noticing, I have become slimy. I have been driven and snappy. With the new expectations of fall on us all, I have so quickly forgotten to refill. Harsh yelling words are sneaking in from my hard edges. I have been demanding and pushy. I need to dump out that slime and refill. For me that means taking time again to sit, to be still with God, to read, to have those quiet evening baths and to let go of perfection in myself and all those around me. There is still lots to do, but I can pull out that hose regularly and let it run so that I am filled and fresh.
We are all so unique. What fill us up to overflowing with refreshing water may look quite different for each of us. With all the new beginnings of September upon us, take time to pay attention to your own soul. Breathe deeply and refill. Bring over the hose and let it run.
With fall in the air, it has been busy. I have not been taking the time to sit quietly on the porch. I have forgotten to pull over the hose and clean and fill the bird bath. Yesterday I took time to notice that the water was green and full of dirt. Long strings of slime were moving in from the edges. No birds were around. They had noticed days ago.
I tipped the dirty thick water out, got a scrub brush and hose and cleaned and filled the bird bath again. It was so satisfying to have fresh clear water in the shallow dish of the bath. I let the hose fill and refill it to overflowing for a long time. When I was all done, the water seemed lighter and the breeze ruffled the surface. It took no time before the chickadees were flitting around again, drinking deeply from the clear.
My soul is like that bird bath. I have neglected it lately too. Like the bird bath, it doesn't take long before it has become thick and full of dirt. Without noticing, I have become slimy. I have been driven and snappy. With the new expectations of fall on us all, I have so quickly forgotten to refill. Harsh yelling words are sneaking in from my hard edges. I have been demanding and pushy. I need to dump out that slime and refill. For me that means taking time again to sit, to be still with God, to read, to have those quiet evening baths and to let go of perfection in myself and all those around me. There is still lots to do, but I can pull out that hose regularly and let it run so that I am filled and fresh.
We are all so unique. What fill us up to overflowing with refreshing water may look quite different for each of us. With all the new beginnings of September upon us, take time to pay attention to your own soul. Breathe deeply and refill. Bring over the hose and let it run.
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
To Touch a Life
Touching lives. We all do it. For good, for bad and for every way in between, we touch lives.
We touch lives through our words said and unsaid, by our actions and just by our being. I have been struck afresh lately by the power of physical touch.
We live in a fast paced society of many words. Words texted, tweeted, blogged and spoken. Even with our children we use words to explain, demand, correct and direct. Sometimes our words loose their impact with their overuse.
How can we connect in other ways with our kids and those around us?
Touch is a powerful way to communicate. We often underestimate the its impact. Confident deep touch settles and is a powerful regulator. It communicates belonging and closeness. Many of our children through adoption have not had regular deep touch and are starved for sensory input through touch. At the same time, many cannot tolerate any touch. Some kids settle after a deep hug. For those who do not or who are older and do not come for those hugs often there is still that deep need for the communication of touch.
Be creative in ways to touch that are meaningful for the hypersensitive or older kids. Avoid light touch. A secure hand placed on a shoulder for a couple of seconds can give deep encouragement beyond words. Hold your child's feet gently but securely as you are talking with them at night. Offer foot and back massages at the end of busy days. Some of the closest times I have had with my kids have been while giving them back massages in quiet and wordless companionship.
Sometimes actual touch is still too much. Try placing your hand at a distance from skin as if touching. Gentle and loving presence. Connecting.
To touch lives in ways that are meaningful and helpful. Try touch.
We touch lives through our words said and unsaid, by our actions and just by our being. I have been struck afresh lately by the power of physical touch.
We live in a fast paced society of many words. Words texted, tweeted, blogged and spoken. Even with our children we use words to explain, demand, correct and direct. Sometimes our words loose their impact with their overuse.
How can we connect in other ways with our kids and those around us?
Touch is a powerful way to communicate. We often underestimate the its impact. Confident deep touch settles and is a powerful regulator. It communicates belonging and closeness. Many of our children through adoption have not had regular deep touch and are starved for sensory input through touch. At the same time, many cannot tolerate any touch. Some kids settle after a deep hug. For those who do not or who are older and do not come for those hugs often there is still that deep need for the communication of touch.
Be creative in ways to touch that are meaningful for the hypersensitive or older kids. Avoid light touch. A secure hand placed on a shoulder for a couple of seconds can give deep encouragement beyond words. Hold your child's feet gently but securely as you are talking with them at night. Offer foot and back massages at the end of busy days. Some of the closest times I have had with my kids have been while giving them back massages in quiet and wordless companionship.
Sometimes actual touch is still too much. Try placing your hand at a distance from skin as if touching. Gentle and loving presence. Connecting.
To touch lives in ways that are meaningful and helpful. Try touch.
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
Beginning the Missing
Beginning
The missing.
Lonely in the starting.
Birth intertwined with death.
Grieving in the missing
is new.
Beginning
Loss in the missing
Of old
While new starts
Empty.
Open the door
That closed
Leaving
Old fullness
To pain
Of too bright
Nothing.
Loss and grieving
More deep
In the beginning
Of not forgetting
Old.
All of us
Round the corner.
New not new
At all.
Fresh with the
Loss
Of the old
Unexpected
Adding to the
Loosing
Of the Beginning
Beginning
An ending
Old
Unable to
Let go
Feelings
In the new
Beginning
of missing
For all.
The missing.
Lonely in the starting.
Birth intertwined with death.
Grieving in the missing
is new.
Beginning
Loss in the missing
Of old
While new starts
Empty.
Open the door
That closed
Leaving
Old fullness
To pain
Of too bright
Nothing.
Loss and grieving
More deep
In the beginning
Of not forgetting
Old.
All of us
Round the corner.
New not new
At all.
Fresh with the
Loss
Of the old
Unexpected
Adding to the
Loosing
Of the Beginning
Beginning
An ending
Old
Unable to
Let go
Feelings
In the new
Beginning
of missing
For all.
Monday, 10 September 2012
Raspberries
It is a time of abundant harvest here at our home on the hill. Everyday the children go out to pick buckets of juicy blackberries, tangy in their sour grittiness. On the weekend we harvested our apple crop a bit early before the bears could get at them. Our front hall is wall to wall with boxes of crispy sour apples and apple pears, waiting to be cut up for applesauce or dried in my skookum new dehydrator. Night after night we are delighting in amazing desserts. Blackberry apple pies and crumbles are the favourites. Fall is the season of dessert, a treat normally absent from our table.
My very very favourite of all are the tiny treats that my daughter faithfully presses into my hand in threes and fours each morning. Raspberries. Last year we were given three slips of raspberry cane. We didn't have the time right then to properly line them up with supports and wire as we did in our previous home, so I planted them randomly close up to our front patio. They have supplied me with morning delights from June right through to now. There are not many. They are hidden carefully behind abundant greenery. They are tender and soft with a touch of sweet and a fresh smell of morning. They do not last gathered in any quantity and never get beyond my morning yogurt dish. Raspberries.
Delights in life to be savoured do not have to be abundant. They are sometimes tender and their taste is subtle. They often just come bit by bit and are frequently hidden at first glance. Gifts of attention and slow. Tender and small. Enjoy the simple moments pressed gently in your hands.
Sunday, 9 September 2012
Foundations
If I am going to try to slow down and simplify, what is really important?
In all the courses that I have taken over the last year, there has been significant emphasis on the bottom up foundation approach. In the brain, development starts with the brainstem and moves up through the various parts of the brain to the cortex. Movement and music and rhythm influence our higher brains through their steadying impact on the brainstem. Often challenging behaviour comes from foundation insecurities and deep needs. To influence behaviour we have to address those deeper places. Even Jesus tells us to watch that the foundations of our homes are solid, built to last on rock.
Where do we start in parenting with this bottom up foundation emphasis?
What is my foundation as a parent? Us parents need to check first that we are healthy. We need to be loving and gentle with our own selves. We often care for ourselves last. For most of my life I have totally disregarded the second part of the command to "love others, as we love ourselves". I have been so busy trying to love rather than be loved and to understand rather than to be understood. I have missed an important piece. I am to start loving at home, right in my own heart. When I do that, I am much more effective at loving others too. Sometimes it is easier to focus on loving and caring for our kids than for ourselves. I noticed that a recent conference geared to caring for our children was packed, but another upcoming conference that was to address caring for ourselves as parents in this hazardous endeavour had to be cancelled because of poor enrollment.
How can we know if we are healthy? When we find ourselves getting frustrated and upset we need to first check in with ourselves. We know our kids have lots of challenges. They will induce feelings of pain and abandonment in us. They will unconsciously blame us for their abuse and neglect even if we were nowhere around. We will experience trauma. We will react and feel the pain, but we need to know in advance what we are going to do about these feelings. We need strategies.
It is helpful for us to have some understanding about our own insecurities that may come from our early foundations. What are the positives and negatives of how we were parented? Even if we think that we had a perfect upbringing, it is important that we work through our own parenting before bringing children by adoption into our homes. When it really comes down to it, many of us feel pretty unloved deep down. We have never really accepted all of who we are, both the good and the bad. Our foundation is a bit shakey. Go to a counsellor to help with understanding our own selves with our unique backgrounds and propensities. Join a group. Talk through our own baggage and take it seriously. Use all the ideas for our kids' self regulation and apply them to ourselves. Get regular exercise. Dance. Go for walks in nature. Be mindful of all our senses and pay attention to their messages. Learn to love ourselves. Reparent the insecure child within us with love and forgiveness. Breathe deeply. Practice receiving as well as giving. Connect and listen to God's voice in our own hearts. Receive God's love for us just as we are. Dig our own roots deep into God's soil. Allow His spirit in us to be a fountain of fresh water bringing love and understanding for ourselves even as we care for others.
So, for starters, as I slow down and simplify, I am going to grow in my ability to love and care for myself. I am going to have time quietly to myself with God. I am going to receive and accept God's unconditional love for me. I am going to practice accepting and loving myself just as I am, all of me precious. Allow myself to go to therapy when I feel I need some extra support and insight. Be vulnerable with trusted friends and receive their love. Journal. Get regular exercise. Go for walks each evening with my husband. Ask him for those back and foot massages for me. Practice going within to the quiet space in my heart and being still and accepting in the empty silence with God.
In all the courses that I have taken over the last year, there has been significant emphasis on the bottom up foundation approach. In the brain, development starts with the brainstem and moves up through the various parts of the brain to the cortex. Movement and music and rhythm influence our higher brains through their steadying impact on the brainstem. Often challenging behaviour comes from foundation insecurities and deep needs. To influence behaviour we have to address those deeper places. Even Jesus tells us to watch that the foundations of our homes are solid, built to last on rock.
Where do we start in parenting with this bottom up foundation emphasis?
What is my foundation as a parent? Us parents need to check first that we are healthy. We need to be loving and gentle with our own selves. We often care for ourselves last. For most of my life I have totally disregarded the second part of the command to "love others, as we love ourselves". I have been so busy trying to love rather than be loved and to understand rather than to be understood. I have missed an important piece. I am to start loving at home, right in my own heart. When I do that, I am much more effective at loving others too. Sometimes it is easier to focus on loving and caring for our kids than for ourselves. I noticed that a recent conference geared to caring for our children was packed, but another upcoming conference that was to address caring for ourselves as parents in this hazardous endeavour had to be cancelled because of poor enrollment.
How can we know if we are healthy? When we find ourselves getting frustrated and upset we need to first check in with ourselves. We know our kids have lots of challenges. They will induce feelings of pain and abandonment in us. They will unconsciously blame us for their abuse and neglect even if we were nowhere around. We will experience trauma. We will react and feel the pain, but we need to know in advance what we are going to do about these feelings. We need strategies.
It is helpful for us to have some understanding about our own insecurities that may come from our early foundations. What are the positives and negatives of how we were parented? Even if we think that we had a perfect upbringing, it is important that we work through our own parenting before bringing children by adoption into our homes. When it really comes down to it, many of us feel pretty unloved deep down. We have never really accepted all of who we are, both the good and the bad. Our foundation is a bit shakey. Go to a counsellor to help with understanding our own selves with our unique backgrounds and propensities. Join a group. Talk through our own baggage and take it seriously. Use all the ideas for our kids' self regulation and apply them to ourselves. Get regular exercise. Dance. Go for walks in nature. Be mindful of all our senses and pay attention to their messages. Learn to love ourselves. Reparent the insecure child within us with love and forgiveness. Breathe deeply. Practice receiving as well as giving. Connect and listen to God's voice in our own hearts. Receive God's love for us just as we are. Dig our own roots deep into God's soil. Allow His spirit in us to be a fountain of fresh water bringing love and understanding for ourselves even as we care for others.
So, for starters, as I slow down and simplify, I am going to grow in my ability to love and care for myself. I am going to have time quietly to myself with God. I am going to receive and accept God's unconditional love for me. I am going to practice accepting and loving myself just as I am, all of me precious. Allow myself to go to therapy when I feel I need some extra support and insight. Be vulnerable with trusted friends and receive their love. Journal. Get regular exercise. Go for walks each evening with my husband. Ask him for those back and foot massages for me. Practice going within to the quiet space in my heart and being still and accepting in the empty silence with God.
Saturday, 8 September 2012
Slow down and Simplify
Sometimes in the normal days of life, I wonder how to hear God. Yesterday I went to a great adoption course with lots of helpful ideas and stimulating thoughts. Wonderful people there too to help support and to learn from.
At the end of the day, just a couple of thoughts came to my heart as I was quiet. I think those were God's words for me today.
Slow down and simplify.
We all hear those words often. Days are full. Activities are starting. How do I slow down and simplify?
There are so many great and good things to do. Especially in the fall, I always get excited to help with projects, to connect with others and to take courses and workshops. I cannot do it all. We all have to be intentional in our goals and say "no" to many good things in order to say "yes" to the priorities on our hearts.
Connecting with our children and partners takes time and energy. Especially if our children are adopted and have not had easy lives, our relationships with them will take more time. I may not be able to have as many friends. Our children need to be with us and not in full time daycare. Most likely, I will not be able to do all the most interesting projects at work. I probably cannot work full time. It may not be the best to enroll for that Master's degree just yet. It may look like others have more exciting and stimulating and effective lives and can do it all. I will let them live their lives, but I must carefully listen to the stirrings in my own heart.
For me to slow down and simplify means just that. My life may not look as interesting, but if it is my priority to connect with my children and my partner, then I have to have time to do that. Adopting children is a very significant and time consuming endeavour in itself. Relationship building especially in adopting takes time and commitment and is much more demanding than building a family through birth. We must not gloss over that fact. Our families are different. We are like the car on the highway with our hazard lights flashing. We are slower and over to the side. We can try multitasking, but it is not as effective.
Slow down and simplify. Take time to take our kids out of school for the day and play on the beach. Time to cook nutritious meals and sit down for supper together. Time to go for walks together. Time to listen to hearts and to see beyond behaviour. Time to repeat instructions over and over and still stay calm. Time to read and hug before bed. How we take our time is an active choice. Relationship building and connecting is not flashy and dramatic. We are in this for the long haul. None of our friends and neighbours may completely understand, but do it anyway. Slow down and simplify.
At the end of the day, just a couple of thoughts came to my heart as I was quiet. I think those were God's words for me today.
Slow down and simplify.
We all hear those words often. Days are full. Activities are starting. How do I slow down and simplify?
There are so many great and good things to do. Especially in the fall, I always get excited to help with projects, to connect with others and to take courses and workshops. I cannot do it all. We all have to be intentional in our goals and say "no" to many good things in order to say "yes" to the priorities on our hearts.
Connecting with our children and partners takes time and energy. Especially if our children are adopted and have not had easy lives, our relationships with them will take more time. I may not be able to have as many friends. Our children need to be with us and not in full time daycare. Most likely, I will not be able to do all the most interesting projects at work. I probably cannot work full time. It may not be the best to enroll for that Master's degree just yet. It may look like others have more exciting and stimulating and effective lives and can do it all. I will let them live their lives, but I must carefully listen to the stirrings in my own heart.
For me to slow down and simplify means just that. My life may not look as interesting, but if it is my priority to connect with my children and my partner, then I have to have time to do that. Adopting children is a very significant and time consuming endeavour in itself. Relationship building especially in adopting takes time and commitment and is much more demanding than building a family through birth. We must not gloss over that fact. Our families are different. We are like the car on the highway with our hazard lights flashing. We are slower and over to the side. We can try multitasking, but it is not as effective.
Slow down and simplify. Take time to take our kids out of school for the day and play on the beach. Time to cook nutritious meals and sit down for supper together. Time to go for walks together. Time to listen to hearts and to see beyond behaviour. Time to repeat instructions over and over and still stay calm. Time to read and hug before bed. How we take our time is an active choice. Relationship building and connecting is not flashy and dramatic. We are in this for the long haul. None of our friends and neighbours may completely understand, but do it anyway. Slow down and simplify.
Thursday, 6 September 2012
Alone
Standing alone.
A wolf on the mountaintop
Alone.
No connection
On the edge
Of no contact.
Alone with space
This time.
Turn within
To deep heart rich.
Connect with self
In God.
Joy in your own
Standing alone.
A Lone wolf
Alone.
A wolf on the mountaintop
Alone.
No connection
On the edge
Of no contact.
Alone with space
This time.
Turn within
To deep heart rich.
Connect with self
In God.
Joy in your own
Standing alone.
A Lone wolf
Alone.
Spaces
My first thought is to head out into the garden this morning to try to quickly fill in the holes and rearrange the plants so the spaces are not quite so empty.
My heart whispers, "Wait!"
As I look out and view the landscape, I realize that we all have known those messy holes and empty spaces in our lives. Family and friends have died, people have moved, divorces happen. Our children have known birth parents disappearing, foster homes changing, and siblings ripped away.
We want to fix these gaping spaces. Fill them up. Plant ourselves where the birth parents should have been.
Bring back order where there is chaos.
Wait!
Stand together and acknowledge the spaces and destruction. Let them be. Certainly fill in those holes before someone trips and falls in them, but be careful about rearranging and replanting too soon.
Just as we have to let new plants rest awhile after transplanting, let the spaces rest and be. There is healing in space. The destruction is just as much a part of the story as the rebuilding. Be still. Consider and feel the pain together. Wait for the right time to start planting again, realizing that there is no replacing the old. Discover the distinct and often painful beauty in the space.
Wait!
My heart whispers, "Wait!"
As I look out and view the landscape, I realize that we all have known those messy holes and empty spaces in our lives. Family and friends have died, people have moved, divorces happen. Our children have known birth parents disappearing, foster homes changing, and siblings ripped away.
We want to fix these gaping spaces. Fill them up. Plant ourselves where the birth parents should have been.
Bring back order where there is chaos.
Wait!
Stand together and acknowledge the spaces and destruction. Let them be. Certainly fill in those holes before someone trips and falls in them, but be careful about rearranging and replanting too soon.
Just as we have to let new plants rest awhile after transplanting, let the spaces rest and be. There is healing in space. The destruction is just as much a part of the story as the rebuilding. Be still. Consider and feel the pain together. Wait for the right time to start planting again, realizing that there is no replacing the old. Discover the distinct and often painful beauty in the space.
Wait!
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Transplanting
As I look out from the window of my heart into the garden of my family, I see four big piles of dirt beside wide gaping holes in the garden. The garden looks sparse and empty and even the remaining plants look like they have lost their place.
This weekend has been full of transplanting. A couple of the trees that we moved have been transplanted many times before. They get put back in the soil for a few months here and there, like our Christmas tree that is removed for a season each year with a rotting burlap bag still protecting a solid root ball for the replanting later.
One of these uprooted trees has been planted here for a while this time. It has given shade and fruit to us all in this last year. We are going to miss the fun of resting under its canopy and eating its tasty delights. The cat will miss scratching its knobbly bark. The other tree that was planted beside it has only been around for short times lately. Its creative peeling bark and rich colour add so much joy and wonder to the whole garden. The garden fairies that twinkle from its heights wait in excited anticipation for its short returns that add such delight.
The biggest hole was home to two trees, forever linked by their roots. They have never before been moved and by the looks of the piles of soil around them, it was a challenge to get them out. This newest loss to our garden is huge. Even the neighbouring trees and bushes seem to be tottering as their own roots were disturbed. Bits of cut up roots are scattered among the remaining soil. These twin trees had to be pulled apart from each other as well as from their solid earth. Their special and solid beauty as two unique trees intertwined and supporting each other leaves a gaping space in the entire garden. They were a favourite resting place for the dog, and every kind of bird perched in their leafy branches. The sound of the birds' chirping and cawing has gone, leaving a cavernous silence. These trees swayed and creaked, their bark rubbing the other and chafing. We feel the space from their leaving. We are excited that they will now have a chance to fully grow and develop by themselves, but we miss their strength and support.
Four trees, carefully moved and replanted this weekend. New soil dug and prepared far from here. Fresh compost added to the mix. For the twin trees, we carefully placed stakes to help support the trunks while the newly disturbed roots grow. May the new places and soil give new growth to our trees. May they be a delight in their new gardens, bringing shade and fruit and wonder there.
We miss them. We will fill in the holes loosely, mixing some fresh soil with the old for when they return, stronger and wider, new roots sprouting.
This weekend has been full of transplanting. A couple of the trees that we moved have been transplanted many times before. They get put back in the soil for a few months here and there, like our Christmas tree that is removed for a season each year with a rotting burlap bag still protecting a solid root ball for the replanting later.
One of these uprooted trees has been planted here for a while this time. It has given shade and fruit to us all in this last year. We are going to miss the fun of resting under its canopy and eating its tasty delights. The cat will miss scratching its knobbly bark. The other tree that was planted beside it has only been around for short times lately. Its creative peeling bark and rich colour add so much joy and wonder to the whole garden. The garden fairies that twinkle from its heights wait in excited anticipation for its short returns that add such delight.
The biggest hole was home to two trees, forever linked by their roots. They have never before been moved and by the looks of the piles of soil around them, it was a challenge to get them out. This newest loss to our garden is huge. Even the neighbouring trees and bushes seem to be tottering as their own roots were disturbed. Bits of cut up roots are scattered among the remaining soil. These twin trees had to be pulled apart from each other as well as from their solid earth. Their special and solid beauty as two unique trees intertwined and supporting each other leaves a gaping space in the entire garden. They were a favourite resting place for the dog, and every kind of bird perched in their leafy branches. The sound of the birds' chirping and cawing has gone, leaving a cavernous silence. These trees swayed and creaked, their bark rubbing the other and chafing. We feel the space from their leaving. We are excited that they will now have a chance to fully grow and develop by themselves, but we miss their strength and support.
Four trees, carefully moved and replanted this weekend. New soil dug and prepared far from here. Fresh compost added to the mix. For the twin trees, we carefully placed stakes to help support the trunks while the newly disturbed roots grow. May the new places and soil give new growth to our trees. May they be a delight in their new gardens, bringing shade and fruit and wonder there.
We miss them. We will fill in the holes loosely, mixing some fresh soil with the old for when they return, stronger and wider, new roots sprouting.
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