This is Mica.
He was a few months old — five? — in this photo. I remember that time so clearly, he had emerged from the didymos wrapped against my chest and was lying around on the ground, atop the sheep’s skin, amid the patterns of the quilt made by my mother, just for him. He would laugh and look and wave and wiggle.
This photo was with a few others, a random assortment of photos plucked from envelopes and boxes, irresistible. A gathering. Me and my great grandma, when I was nine years old. Felipe the cat looking handsome and regal. My brother and his then-girlfriend, now-wife Wendi. Orlando in the lap of my dearest, oldest friend Laura. And Mica, being Mica.
I’d rediscovered the photos weeks ago, hidden away in a drawer, and then I got them out over the weekend and brought them with me to show to friends. But first I showed the kids and Rom, and we laughed over their baby selves, and over my kid self — “Who’s that?!”
And then the photos sat on my desk, near the computer. It was suddenly clear why I had collected them. I wanted to get frames for them and put them on my newly clean desk in my newly sacred office space.
I was typing when Orlando came and stood next to me. He looked down at Mica’s photo — it was on top.
He laughed about what a cute little guy Mica was, and then he walked behind me and off to my other side. “I don’t know why,” he said. “I don’t know why, but sometimes when Mica was a baby like that I would do things that made him cry.”
I stopped typing and slowly turned, open to him. He walked in a little closer, until he was at my side.
“I don’t know why I did that,” as if he were saying I want to understand why I did that.
“Well,” I started, softly touching his hair out of his eyes. “Well, maybe you were just a kid, trying to see how this new little thing worked. What would happen when you did things.”
“Maybe.” He knew there was more.
I went on, “Or maybe… well, maybe when Mica came things changed and he took up a lot of my time and attention, and you were missing that. Maybe you hurt him because you wanted him to go away, because you missed having my attention.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning into me, “I wanted your attention!”
“Yeah, I know.” We rested together.
“Do you remember that is why we first started using code red? So you had a way to get my attention without hurting anyone?”
He looked up at me, “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, that’s why we made it up. Because I want to give attention to both of you.”
We were looking each other right in the eyes. And things were good, and then there was the next thing, whatever it may have been, that Orlando was walking toward, out of the room, and I was sitting in my chair, and I felt a surge of relief in my body: I wasn’t crazy. He was hurting the baby.
Because — wow, five years later, we can talk about it, it can move; we open, understand, and heal. In a moment.
The impetus to heal is there; I am not sure why it surprises me every time. Perhaps because it is wondrous to behold. Simple, tingly, and lovely: life, living itself.
~ ~ ~
One of the principles of Hakomi is organicity. I hear that word and I know what it means but then it doesn’t exist in any dictionary — not on its own, always as a part of the definition for organic.
But I know what it means — it means movement; of a whole; alive. The impetus of life, integrated within a system, continually seeking growth, wholeness.
Ron Kurtz explains it thus:
Healing is an act of self-recreation. One being cannot heal another. The other can only help or hinder. The organicity principle places the locus of healing and control within the client and the client-therapist relationship. The client’s growth and unfolding, his or her answers and resolutions, completions and new directions, are all within.
… When you embrace the organicity principle, you look for and follow natural processes. You do not impose a structure or an agenda on the process, but you seek the sources of movement and growth and support these. It is as simple as leaving the client time, after every interaction, to make the next move, to pursue his or her interests and direction — instead of, for example, asking a question about something that interests you. It is very easy, in a position of “authority” like therapist [or parent], to take control and run the whole session.
… In general, the principle of organicity asserts our respect for life and our faith in the healing power of the individual.
Now I think of how I might have waited longer, and perhaps not even mentioned the code red thing… I realize (again) how much more space there is available. Of how we will have this conversation again, if Orlando wants to. I don’t beat myself up; there is no disappointment. Rather, I feel only grateful to be a part of the matrix of my children’s lives, and I bow down to every moment of connection I’ve had with them, that we have had together to that bigger thing, whatever it may be.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
– Khalil Gibran, from The Prophet
~ ~ ~
And as if this post weren’t long enough… going back to the seed of this post, more on being siblings:
The Story of the Other Brothers
Brotherly Love and Other Feelings
to updates and extras
This post really spoke to me, Stacy because I have struggle with Isaac and his “hurting” ways…and he doesn’t even have a sibling. Not sure at all how I would have handled that. But like you we have a word that we can use if he really is feeling a compulsion to do something he knows he shouldn’t, so we can work through it together without someone (or in our case, it’s usually someTHING) getting hurt.
In the past few weeks he has come to me with memories on why he did certain things and really it was the last thing I expected so I dropped everything to listen and like you, I get the gist he just wants to make sense of it all. It’s so beautiful and gorgeous and I love it. Looking forward to more of these conversations with him (and you). Thank you for sharing. Much, much love to you. ~Debbie
Debbie,
That is so lovely you’re having these conversations with your sweet boy. Thank you for sharing a bit of them here.
Blessings,
Stacy
this has been happening with ani! not so much the hurting, though she went through quite a bit of that (wonder if that will come up sometime?), but with some dishonesty. i haven’t pushed, though i knew about most of the instances, but in those quiet moments, out of the blue, she will want to talk about them and connect, and i know this is something we will do many more times before those bits of her are reconciled. i kind of feel like my part is just to reflect and witness the connections she’s making, to help her still feel heard and connected while she unloads that bit of herself that she’s not proud of. this is all so helpful to me! thank you! and yes, WOW for you and for O.
Hi Dear Debbie
I love what you shared — reconciliation is a great word for it, I think.
And this: “my part is just to reflect and witness the connections she’s making, to help her still feel heard and connected while she unloads that bit of herself that she’s not proud of.” Yes! That’s Hakomi right there. And that’s only because Hakomi is life, you know?
Sorry if that’s too Jedi (been reading too many Stars Wars books to the boys!!)
Love,
s
Thank you… this is a beautiful post Stacy. I love how you ended it with a passage from Kahlil Gibran too. xx
wow, that it remained with him 5 yrs later, and was able to mention it and talk about it.
it’s wonderful that he trusted you that much too.
Oh, wow, Stacy. Your posts always touch me deeply. I agree that it is wonderful that he trusted you enough to share that with you. And wonderful for you to be open to the moment and to allow and acknowledge the truth of how he had been feeling. Beautiful.
Truth, openness, and honesty heals.
“One being cannot heal another. The other can only help or hinder.” So true. I have helped and hindered in my children’s lives. I’ve warned them that I sometimes hinder and let them know that is not my intention. I do what I know how to do and as I know more I’m able to do better, but I am learning too. I’ve never been a mommy to these children before. So it is all new.
Being. This is such a core componenet of parenthood. This is a lovely example of getting that being state just right. (and even then sometimes we second guess ourselves, huh?)
I love this poem from The Prophet. Have you ever heard Sweet Honey in the Rock sing it? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCVvoL_F5gA
Hi Rebecca,
Thank you — I love what you shared. I do this with my kids, too… not in a “I don’t know what I’m doing!!” kind of way, but in a “I make mistakes, my intentions are good, I can see you are hurt or confused, and I’m sorry” kind of way.
Thank you for the reminder about honesty and transparency.
And thanks, too, for the song.
Wow Stacey, I really loved this and felt so moved by it. And I am so glad you put in the Kurtz quote as that really clarified Hakomi for me in a way, or at least this particular princople, and of course it is also so clear now how it fits with unschooling as well…in terms of allowing self-impetus to propel movement, and us just allowing the space for that to occur in…I think allowing this space is what I struggle with, I fall too easily into the mode of ‘teachable moments’ instead, and then I direct the conversation too much, which generates resistance…it is partly that patience is not a natural virtue of mine, lol!!
Anyway, thank you as always:-)
Thanks, Lisa!
Yes, I think the ideas around resistance are key. Resistance was deeply ingrained in me from a young age, so it almost seems a miracle to be able to participate in a way that doesn’t create resistance, and to release my own resistance. So awesome! But there are still many times when I get all wrapped up in it. Ah well… I’m glad we’re on the path together.
Thank you so very much gentle Stacy
for sharing your beautiful anecdote of your family’s unconditional, patient, and trusting love in action, and for reminding us parents of our Earthly role and most treasured heavenly gift to bring these loving, wonder:)…ful little beings into our beautiful and sometimes challenging world! And for the graceful reminder in the poem to look after ourselves, keep us in balance too best we can!
Many blessings. light and love to you always (you’ve quietly inspired me for more than 3 years now :0)…thank you!!! (you’ve always been in my heart and prayers) for always being there when we both needed to laugh, cry, dream and sometimes even scream…and shift our energies once again!
Michelle (mom of Harvey almost 10 years old
Michelle,
Wow, thanks so much for your comment! It was so nice for me to read… it really means a lot to me and I am grateful for your reflections — they have helped me learn even more. Thank you!
Many blessings to you and your son –
Warmly,
Stacy
I love this passage from The Prophet – i first heard it spoken at a naming blessing – the truth and love and vision of it is so strong!
Oh wow. What a huge gift you gave your son – to let him have his experience without shame attached. What a teacher you are – thank you!!
Chills as I read this. Those chills you get when life feels so sensory you wonder how we manage each day with so much feeling all wrapped up inside. So many memories. Thank you for sharing this precious conversation with us. It serves as such a great reminder of all that’s going on in everyone’s minds, old and young.
thanks for sharing this lovely moment from your life/learning/parenting/growing/journey. i have been thinking a lot over the last few months about what i think is a similar sense of there being plenty of time/space for things. so many things i had thought i needed to get or do or teach or learn i am now seeing how they can really unfold if you just hold still and give them time. especially with these little beings. since september especially i have really been trying to keep us living with a sense of stillness so we are not always hurrying about so they have time to just be and trusting that at some later date if it is right to be doing more doing we’ll sense it. i hope that makes sense. somehow it felt like the moment of connection five years later spoke to the same thing for me.
i had taken a long hiatus from blog reading over the last few months. i just read back some on yours and wanted to thank you for being a beautiful spot on the internet — a place it feels good to return to.
peace love joy
robin
Thank you for sharing this experience! I’m always impressed how you are able to help your children reach a little deeper within themselves, and you give them such a safe space to express their feelings.
[...] in space. That’s so interesting.”), currency and how money is made, capitalism, Orlando hurting Mica when Mica was a baby, how to measure snow, how many feet is a 100 inches, how water freezes (and putting water outside [...]