Kitchen or the Egg

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

I love this fable, and a friend led me to this other, fuller brief movie-version. I invite you to check them out! Beautiful reminders about our children, each other, and ourselves.

Click on the Animal School video for the brief movie version:

http://www.raisingsmallsouls.com/

Here’s a written version.
The School For The Animals

An old story tells of the creation of a school for the animals. In this school, everybody took the same four courses: flying, swimming, climbing, and running. Among the students were a duck, a flying squirrel, a fox, and an elephant. These four were highly motivated, and wanted to get good grades, so they all tried very hard.

The duck did fantastically well in swimming and flying, but he lagged behind his classmates in climbing and running, so focused special attention on those two subjects. However, his feet became so sore from trying to run and his wings were so bedraggled from trying to climb that by the end of the year he not only failed both those subjects, but made C’s in swimming and flying, which had once been his two best subjects.

At the beginning of the school year, the squirrel was first in his class in climbing and running and was second only to the duck at flying. But as the months wore on, he missed so much school from catching pneumonia in his swimming class that he failed everything. To make matters even worse,
because the squirrel constantly squirmed and chattered in class, and had difficulty paying attention, he was diagnosed with a learning disorder. The squirrel eventually was placed in remedial classes and had to be medicated in order to continue with his school work.

The fox was a natural in his running class and scored well in climbing and swimming, but became so frustrated at his inability to get good Grades in flying that he began assaulting his classmates. He even tried to eat the duck. His behavior was so disruptive he was expelled from school. He fell in with a rough crowd and eventually wound up in a center for animal delinquents.

The elephant, meanwhile, developed low self-esteem because he couldn’t do well in any of the subjects. When he sank into clinical depression, his therapist persuaded him to try a different school that focused on subjects such as lifting and carrying. The elephant was disappointed, because careers in lifting and carrying were not as prestigious as careers in flying, swimming, climbing, or
running. Even though he always felt inferior, he managed to make a decent living and support his family.

I love this quote.

Mothering is reciprocal. It is not just something we do for our children. It defines us, and it liberates us. When we can mother in a powerful, creative, and transformative way, we can more easily move between our role as mother and our other roles as women, embracing all of our passions, without believing that being a devoted mother compromises us…… Peggy O’Mara, Publisher and Editor, Mothering Magazine