Wednesday, May 29, 2013

keep the space.

rock it, mother of gooses. you hit the nail on its noggin and i appreciate it a whole lot.

keep the space.

back when i was more lallyfroofrouo...people used to talk a bout 'holding space' for others, for life, for understanding and whatnot, and i still hear, feel the need to do that sometimes, but now i call it something to do with Light.  holding someone in the Light. a form of envisioning Prayer, involving the straight-up GOD.  oh, the fickleness of language and time.
ha. ah.

this babykid is crawling.  her perserverance and determination are astonishing.  good lord, the effort taken in movement is overwhelming and heartbreaking at once... frustrated cries and all, notwithstanding.

notwithstanding.  ah.

makes me wonder where she gets it from.  where it has gone in all of us who walk...
makes me feel a little bit proud, actually, as part of her root system. 

i'm constantly blown away these days, by what i've forgotten, by what i'm watching, by what gets done and left undone... blown right away to somewhere else. finding myself resting on the roof of the coop, blown to lie beneath the largest of the shady trees, blown rag-doll to the branches of the climber... limbs askew and limp.


Thursday, May 23, 2013

jerk (i, me)

my god, it is so easy to write about other people's problems.  i mean, i like it... the distance from the matter of the situation that lets me see them so 'clearly'.... their garish taste. their monotonous drivel, unrelenting gossip... their unexamined lies to themselves. i seem to spend an awful lot of time thinking about other people and their stupid stupid selves, and, amazingly, how little they and i value each other.
but i've been trying so hard in these last weeks to cut it out of myself, this judgement of others, my own lie to myself, when its not really about 'them' at all, but just a disjointment somewhere in my own self.  and really, i find its only possible to shut my stupid stupid lying to myself brain down when i am alone.  alone.  otherwise i have to sit quietly in a corner, focusing on the grey in my hair.
does this bode well for my sanity and the sanity of the family which coalesces around me every day? no. no it does not.

(of course, this does not mean that the lies other people tell themselves don't still exist, or that there aren't idiots out there. of course there are, its the natural thing, right? all sorts, all fiddles, etc. )

Sunday School singin':
all god's creatures got a place in the choir. some sing low, some sing higher, some sing out loud on the telephone wire..
some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they got

plus, the baby is in an incredibly cute phase, on all fours, pre-crawling, full of vim and vigor, but not moving unless she uses her belly as a fulcrum.  it is completely astonishing, heartbreaking and amazing to realize i am going to forget this . . . as i have with the other two.  amazing.  memory is so malleable.  would that i were as well.

so there it is.

man, its occurred tome like ten times in the past week to quit this blog. i am fishing. tell me not to so i have an outer impulse. yes?

Friday, May 10, 2013

Five Minute Friday: COMFORT

Gypsy Mama does Five minute friday again: stop, drop and write on a topic given.  'Sposed to be unedited, and that is how i roll...


homemade Macaroni and Cheese, alarm clocks keeping us in line... mind you, the one we have is too high-pitched for me to actually hear, so i suppose i should mention the quilts on my bed and the luxury of staying in them without alarm clocks...
baby cribs, baby blankets, baby heads... cat rubs on my legs, arriving in the Light of Meeting, the purity of the whiteness in there, the tall windows allowing the meditation of worship to wax and wane with the positioning of the clouds, the five year old yelling to hear the echoes- and then stopping, the quiet is never so great as when he stops...
finding the phone. crossing off the last item on the list, folding laundry, emptying baskets, where i find my comfort these days, making bags for goodwill, hearing the stories of who gets all this babyclothing, my god, the need is great...
reading, watching the baby smile when she makes it up to all four, rockin' the almost-crawl. pineapple. husband skin. rumbling voices, chest carrying sound.
dirt. growing things.  with all we've done to the world, growing things still work.  astonishing. just stick it in the dirt, and tend, and wait. 
chickens and eggs.  how is that even possible?

there is so much astonishment in the world and i am part of it... while i forget this regularly, it is a fantastic comfort when i remember.  i told my 7 year old boy in trouble that we are all children of god, and so 'safe' last week, and he smiled and dropped off the face of the earth into sleep... and thats the comfort we're all looking for, i think.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Blissful Parenting. . .

the only blissful parenting is the willfully ignorant kind, (is that true?!) and i'm all in favor of the ignorance, and the happily delerious smile of the toy giraffe, inexplicably stiffened internally... 
Last friday, my kid socked another in the stomach, because he wouldn't return the pilfered DS when asked.
in a stroke of wonderfully appropriate teaching, my kid was not suspended, but simply told his mother would be notified after the teacher sorted it out between the two kids with remorse, apologies and so on and so forth.
i say 'wonderfully appropriate' because my kid is seven. and because we've spent the weekend as parents fighting about zero tolerance policies and what punishments are appropriate and what it means about our kid, if anything, and what impulse control in a seven year old actually IS.
and still I am unresolved. 
He got his punishment, which felt severe to him but not to me... losing all video games for the weekend, which is the only time he gets it all week anyhow.  but it was a big deal to him.
He is a good boy, I do not think he is an aggressive one.  He and his brother play together like hellions, and they often get violent, can boys be aggressive with siblings and know that it is not to be spread outside the sibling relationship?

Are we doing enough? How can we claim pacifism if we beat each other up? hm? how do we impress the seriousness of the mistake? How do we instill the idea that a mistake is not lifelong agony but might be a weekend-long agony? How do I get a grip on my own parenting self-esteem to allow him his own mistakes without sending myself down a river of blame? embarassment is here, and it shouldn't be. i get that, but still deal with myself.   shoot.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Irish Pirates. Scottish Pirates. People who drink to endanger. . .

anyhow, i just read a suggestion to turn downtimes into good ones by singing it out in an Irish drinking song. ... and while I am not drinking these days but remembering fondly my times of singing in bars, singing in general is still a part of my life. just ask the six month old how much singing goes on in the midst of diaper changes... go on, ask her.
so, ho ditty ho.  my cup runneth over, as always, with beauty and unmentionables. . . damnit.
irish pirates.

oh ho, remember the cup, remember the cup,
drink up, drink up

the cup has no bottom, its full of the flow
remember the cup, remember the cup
drink up, drink up,
remember the cup.

the diamonds, the dewdrops, all lie within
remember the cup, remember the cup
drink up, drink up,
remember the cup.

the light, the light, can't stop the flight,
drink up, drink up,
remember the cup...


*thanks to Salon for the Soul for the suggestion, and musical interlude.