Kitchen or the Egg

Declan took his guitar down from the wall and started strumming. Something about the way he was playing caught my ear, and I just sat and listened. I loved the way it sounded. The instrument was out of tune, he was playing random notes, but it didn’t matter. Something about it was just beautiful to me.

I was reminded of an interview with Sheryl Crow who said that while you can play the same chords on the guitar as James Taylor, you’ll never sound like him. There’s just something about the way it sounds against his body when he plays, it’s magical. That’s how I feel about Declan’s music on the guitar.

I said, “I just love your songs, Declan.” He seemed pleased but also matter-of-fact about it. “I just make them up.” He asked me if I play guitar, gesturing to the adult-sized one hanging next to his on the wall. I told him no, but I’d always wanted to learn. He asked why I hadn’t learned. I started to reply, “I never took lessons,” but I don’t want him to think that the only way to learn things is through lessons. So I said, “I just never got the hang of it.” He said brightly, “I can teach you!” And he proceeded to show me how to strum and move my fingers around to change notes. How great is this kid?

Mike and I are spending more time together around our budget lately. I’ve felt renewed motivation to understand every single aspect of our money.

We have a Google spreadsheet with basic budget targets, and we use the on-line financial tool, Wesabe, to track all of our income and expenditures. Mike set these up months ago, and after a flurry of activity at the beginning, my interest waned and I never followed through consistently. Now I’m more committed to it and enter the figures regularly.

Last week, we added something new into the mix, where I could actually reap the benefits of all of those dutifully-entered numbers: a money date. I concocted this idea after realizing that I wanted to sit down with Mike, uninterrupted, in non-crisis mode, and review reports generated out of our spreadsheets, kind of a financial state-of-the-state for ourselves. But I was conflicted about getting a babysitter to do this, having to *pay* someone for us to discuss money. Seems counterproductive to me. So I suggested meeting early, 6am, before the kids wake up, and he was game. After a few reschedules since we kept going to sleep too late, we finally met. It was wonderful.

We went through the budget but had lots of issues with the software. Still, I got a good starting point for an overall picture of our expenditures, specifically in the areas I deal with most: groceries, child expenses, and childcare. It was great to play with the numbers, analyze patterns, and update categories that had changed over time from our original budget and spreadsheet.

Since we couldn’t access more specific data I was hoping for and we still had time, I also asked Mike a number of targeted questions about my business. That was very helpful as well. I was determined to get past abstract answers and got solid answers to questions I had been wondering about. We both left with “homework” in the way of reports and answers to some questions that came up from both of us, as a follow-up for our next meeting on Tuesday morning. I didn’t think we’d make it all happen in a single meeting, but I am surprised by how much came up for both of us in terms of questions and clarifications. We’ll be doing these meetings for a while, I’m sure.

It was great to discuss money in a planned, non-loaded way instead of responding in crisis-mode. I recommend the money date as one way to tackle finances with your partner or family.

I experienced so many powerful shifts and insights during Anne Ohman’s recent We Shine! unschooling conference that Mike and I attended with the kids in Niagara Falls, Canada. And some other things settled in without fanfare but continue to echo surprisingly deeply every single day.

Here’s one. I heard so many times, not just at the conference but on the related e-mail list, how great it is to “let kids be themselves.” I truly believe in and agree with this concept. But at the conference I got to see it for myself day after day, from the elevator to the Ball, kids who are vibrant and fun and just *alive* with wonder and excitement and sensitivity and joy and play, and full of energy. I’m also, in general, very (overly?) sensitive to bothering people in shared space, such as the hotel or group activities. I love how the universe helped me to reach a deeper level around this.

So, my typical way of honoring my kids during times of rich, loud, space-taking (-claiming) exuberance has been to redirect redirect redirect. I did this for 10 years as a seasoned teacher, and I did some of this with my children at the conference, including at the dance when my son was racing around. I was concerned he’d wipe out a smaller child (hard to see that quickly in the special lighting) as well as just detract from the experience for other people, dodging a fast little boy darting in and out of the chairs and tables. But mostly, I was uncomfortable with his energy. Even when he was just stacking chairs. It really set off some powerful triggers for me, even as my husband jumped in to help him. When we moved to race around in the adjacent room, I asked my husband, who seemed surprised we’d moved, if he thought I was being too conservative. He said, yeah, maybe, but whatever.

I’ve thought about this for a week now, and I am delighting in a huge, grounding discovery — how often I am uncomfortable with the “bigness” of my children’s expansiveness, how much of the world they claim just in physical space and sound. I. had. no. idea. I am so used to redirecting, or bailing after an activity that seems “too much” that it had never occurred to me until the Shine! conference — What if I just go with it??

I’ve done lots of work in this realm already around releasing arbitrary limits. But wow. Their basic selves. I had no idea I was limiting their Selves due to *my* discomfort in some way. Not aligning myself with them or engaging in the thing along with them, but witnessing and in some way distancing mySelf from my children.

I’d say I’m horrified by this realization, but honestly, I see this as the beginning of the rest of my life. As I heard Anne Ohman share at the conference, “Yesterdays are just that, yesterdays. We can’t change that.” We’re looking at right now and moving forward.

So, back to this morning, what cemented this idea for me and led to writing to you…

When my son woke up, and I saw him getting out of bed, I went to him. We snuggled. We snuggled for a really long time, just holding each other tightly and Being. And after a long while, Declan started playing “I Spy…” and we played a bunch of rounds. He emerged from our comforter cocoon and raced wildly around trying to guess what I’d Spied. I felt desperate to give him a clue, to end his “pain” and “frustration,” (WHICH HE WASN’T EXPERIENCING, HELLO, *I* WAS!), and he felt triumphant when he finally guessed it all on his own, the way he wanted it. He even covered my mouth at some point afraid I’d give him a clue.

I was also desperate to end his crazy excitement, jumping around pointing toward this and that, and at some point, I realized, wow. This is truly who this Being is. This is who he is. An “Ah, this is a what-we’re-all-talking-about-but-I’m-seeing-a-new-level-of-it” kind of Who He Is. This amazing, dedicated, persevering, excited, fun soul I get to spend my life with. How often do I just let him be like this in his own time and in his own space? Without a “redirect.” (read: energy diminisher) Yes, he gets that freedom a lot of the time. But I suddenly found so many *more* places to release and *more* ways to let go and celebrate my boy just being my boy. And same with my daughter.

That other stuff? My stuff? Hypersensitivity to others? Sure, of course, I still believe in respect for shared space. But I’m suddenly consciously pulling back from perceived or imaginary boundaries around it as I find my new way with it. I’m going “bigger.” And I’m infusing this new way with loads more respect for *my children* in that space. Who have a right to be there too, in all of their fullness and majesty. I just feel more relaxed in general, more soft, more loving, more open, filled with joy where fear-of-perception has had such a stronghold in me for so long.

I love how Anne put it in her opening remarks. She reminded us of how much kids can open us up, show us new experiences we might never have otherwise. And how awesome it is when our kids say this to us (whether directly or in essence), like how I imagine Declan and Quinn are saying to me:
“You’re Welcome!”

Love,

Erica