Tasting the Sweet Silence II

By Stacy Lewis on November 29, 2010

I see Rumi’s poems, out there, on these wonderful blogs… I hear Rumi poems, read aloud, at the Hakomi workshops… I feel Rumi poems, deep down in the pit of my soul.

I checked out some books from the library, including The Big Red Book, and with Rom at the kitchen counter and the kids zig-zagging their cars all over the coffee table, I sat on the couch and randomly turned to The Well-Baked Loaf. I read it and I cried, just that little tear-welling-up cry. The yes/thankyou/god cry. The I’m here/I’m seen/I can ascend cry.

Rumi has a way with that.

Lately, I can feel the tension, the down-energy, the STOP vibe ping-ponging all over the place. The fighting! The constant good-guy/bad-guy play (which really triggers me). Orlando’s deep unsettledness, needing constant stimulation; Mica’s sleeve in his mouth, mashed to mush by his continual chewing. My spitting irritation and Rom’s had-enough-of-it-all.

This does not feel good — all of us meshed up like this.

On Thanksgiving Day, we are heading out for a walk in the woods. Mica doesn’t want to go but Orlando, Rom, and I do. We walk the balance between holding (seemingly) opposing desires and seeing them coalesce versus just forcing the things together so we can get out the door.

That balance.

Rom is heralding Mica and I am simply steeling myself, hoarding myself up inside, not getting involved, trying to just get through this, the next moment, but also sensing that Rom feels abandoned and wants my help but he’s not asking. Orlando is dressed and ready, accusing us: “I am too hot!!” while Mica is lolling about on the floor saying he wants to go barefoot.

It’s snowing.

We get to the car by telling Mica that he can put on shoes once we get to the woods (it’s a short drive but sadly not walking distance like at our old house). Works for him, but once in the car, Orlando is accusing us again: “It’s too tight!” He can’t get his buckle over his thick winter coat.

I’m sitting in the front seat, staring straight ahead when I hear it — the should.

It should be fun to go on a family outing! Shouldn’t we be enjoying ourselves?

And then I suddenly see that I could, at that very moment, choose to enjoy myself, so I do.

I get out and loosen Orlando’s buckle. I look forward to the woods. I realize that Mica might not get out of the car and that we might not walk in the woods at all. Ah, yes. The constriction — the agenda — is revealed, and released.

When we park at the woods, and I go to help Mica out of his seat, I see that he has peed in his pants. He wants to change himself. I sit in the front seat, facing backward, not helping him. Until he is ready for help, and then we put on his snowsuit, his socks, and his boots, and Rom pulls him on the sled and we reach the creek, and the creek is not frozen and the kids push the snow in and watch it melt and slide away, all the way to the ocean, which we cannot see but somehow know is always there, its vast arms always wide enough to receive.

We push the snow in, we look at the sky, we see each other, and we breathe.

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Tasting the Sweet Silence

By Stacy Lewis on November 28, 2010

cardamine-pratensis

A Well-Baked Loaf

Forget the world, and so
command the world.

Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder.
Help someone’s soul heal.
Walk out of your house like a shepherd.

Stay in the spiritual fire.
Let it cook you.

Be well-baked loaf
and lord of the table.

Come and be served
to your brothers.

You have been a source of pain.
Now you’ll be the delight.

You have been an unsafe house.
Now you’ll be the One
who sees into the Invisible.

I said this, and a Voice came to my ear:
If you become this, you will be That!

Then Silence,
and now more Silence.

A mouth is not for talking.
A mouth is for tasting this sweetness.

~ Rumi ~

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The Oak Tree

By Stacy Lewis on November 15, 2010

I’ve been thinking about being an Oak Tree. Because lately it seems like I’ve been some sort of squat, prickly bush.

The move went so exceptionally well, though I fear that through the distraction and stress of buying a house, moving a house, and selling a house, I’ve slipped into reactive-land and am acting ever so impatient with my two boys. Which they mirror back to me in so many ways.

I am slowly rebuilding that reserve, that strong, solid trunk that can feed not only them but myself. Seeking out that knowledge deep-down that life is not too much for me… that I can stand amidst life, simultaneously taking it in and observing it.

And to help myself remember, I share an Oak-Tree story from this summer…

We were at my parents’ house, with cousins and lots of excitement, and Mica was struggling to play with Orlando (six at the time) and an older cousin (five). He wanted to be with them but didn’t quite know how to tell them he didn’t want to play the games they were playing. I was trying to help him but I was also visiting family, cooking food, inside the house while they were out… and after many times of him trying to hit and/or bite them, I chose to take us for some time to ourselves in the back room.

Mica was very angry about me taking him to the back room, and as I sat us down on the bed, he began hitting me. He wasn’t pummeling me, but hitting me and then looking at me and asking, “Am I hurting you, Mama?”

At first, I was all wrapped up in, “Please don’t hit me. It’s okay to be angry but it’s not okay to hit me.” I kept saying it but I could feel how I was feeling more and more tense. Something just didn’t feel quite right.

And suddenly I clicked into something. It actually was okay for him to be hitting me right then. It wasn’t beyond my physical or emotional limits. I realized that it was a fear inside me, the fear was saying, ‘Don’t let him hit, don’t let it become a habit, what will it mean if you let him hit?!’. It was fear that wanted me to say the words about hitting not being okay.

So I lay there and actually tried to experience what was it like, him hitting me. I told him, “I don’t particularly like it, but it is not hurting me when you hit.” I told him, “It’s not too much for me right now.”

Though I could feel how I was on a thin edge — between feeling trapped and curious, but I kept trying to stay with it… Eventually, I began empathizing with him more, I can’t remember what I said, maybe something like, “You aren’t feeling very good right now, huh?”

And he said back to me, “I don’t like anyone right now!! …. not… even… Felix {sob}!” (Felix is his best, most beloved cousin who is one day older than him, who wasn’t there at the time but is always in his heart).

When he said that about not liking anyone right then, I knew just exactly what he meant. I marveled at how he knew he was out of sync, and that it was temporary (“right now”) and I affirmed that with him… “Yes, you don’t feel like you like anyone right now… That’s how it is right now.”

And the tension broke… he relaxed, he nursed, we rested, and then we joined back up with everyone… with our own well-being.

Writing this, I realize I’m curious what would it be like to tell myself, “Oh, you’re not feeling very good right now, are you?”

So I do it, and it makes me laugh and cry a little bit.

No, I’m not feeling very good.

And my shoulders soften.

“You don’t feel like being around anyone right now.”

Oooooh, no. I don’t! I’m laughing because my two kids are in the next room… and I’ve been ignoring them for a while now…

But now I already feel better. I didn’t have to try and become an oak tree, I just had to meet myself where I was. And there arrived a little bit of laughter and levity, a little bit of groundedness. Exactly how the oak tree weathers the storm.

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What We’re Reading (Feel Good Edition)

By Stacy Lewis on November 10, 2010

We go the library and the kids pile the books on the couch next to me. I want this one, and this one. And this one.

When we arrive home, we are always amazed when we open up an especially sweet one. A story that sweeps us away, shows us the way, shares something a little special.

Here are a few of those books — those ones that we love to read together. And when we finish, we feel fuller, more relaxed, and glad.

My kids love this book because of the the personification of anger (as that raggedy red little guy) and watching how that anger changes and eventually subsides. I like this book because it is not hard-hitting with its message and is truly more of show-don’t tell book. Also, I think the friendliness shown toward anger cannot be underrated; what an amazing model for my children (and me).

That said, I don’t completely agree with the set-up of this book (I think Anh might not have gotten so angry if his grandfather were more flexible and creative about his requests at the outset) and I wouldn’t expect a child as young as Anh to be alone with his anger (as it is in the book), but sharing ideas of how to care for one’s anger, no matter how it arises, is very important to me. So, I recast the interaction between Anh and his grandfather (feel free to do the same!).

I bought this book as something new to have on one of our airplane trips because we’d had a few books from series from the library that the kids really enjoyed. This one is incredibly sweet — following Henry and Mudge through their spring days. The book has an incantatory feeling.

A friend gave us this book and all of us love it. Little Beaver is looking for a friend, calling out across the pond to see if anyone’s there. Can you guess who answers him? He sets out on a journey, and while he never finds the voice on the other side of the pond, he does find some friends. The drawings are realistic but incredibly cute, the author uses subtle word repetitions that my kids love, and there’s just enough of a twist in the story to be satisfying.

I know Mo Willems has about a million books and I can’t say I love them all. But he has quite a few gems, and we think this is one of them. Find out how Elephant and Piggie find a way to include a friend in their game. This book is wonderfully absurd and creative!

This book is practically perfect. Meet the Brutes and find out how they turn around a bad mood (always a good skill to have, don’t you think)?

Long, long ago, truth fell to earth and humankind found only one half of that truth, which led to our belief in “otherness.” This book recounts a journey toward wholeness, and is a parable for our times. The paintings are shockingly gorgeous (by Jon J Muth). While the book seems just a bit too long to me, the story itself has magic, hope, and resolution.

This one was a surprise — a story of uniqueness, believing in oneself, and having fun. Super cool. By the author of Hug.

The cycle of life, done in wonderfully rich oil paintings. What more can I say?

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Growing Out of Little Potties

By Stacy Lewis on November 9, 2010

I wrote this post as part of the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. These two bloggers recently launched the Natural Parents Network, a community of parents and parents-to-be who practice or are interested in attachment parenting and natural family living. Visit their new site to be informed, empowered, and inspired!

Also, you can find a list of links to the other carnival participants at the end of this post. 

*  *  *

They’re gone. We recently moved, and I gave away the little potties.

Orlando on the potty (8 months)

Those little potties had been around a long time — seven years, in fact. I remember when I bought the first one, a red Baby Bjorn Little Potty.

Orlando was three months old, and I had just heard about Elimination Communication four times in one day.

The first was at our Early Parents Group, when someone mentioned some “crazy lady” she had seen dangling her baby over the potty every fifteen seconds. I remember, even then, being able to sense the layers — there was what the mother was doing and there was the other mother’s reaction to what the mother was doing, all wrapped up in one.

Then another mom piped up with, “That’s what we do in Russia. Whenever a baby wakes up, we hold it over the bathtub.”

Wheels were beginning to turn. Something not yet familiar, but sensible.

Then I came home to an email from our childbirth teacher, announcing an evening talk on “elimination communication.” I read the page-long description, taking it all in, realizing I wanted to attend.

I mentioned it to my husband, and he shrugged and said, “Yeah, we do that in the Philippines.”

And off came our baby’s (cloth prefold with cover) diaper off right then and there!

When we were home together, I would lie Orlando down on a baby blanket naked and notice when he peed. I offered him the potty. I remember trying to decode and decipher the whole process, and I definitely thought at the time that there existed a key that would unlock the baby-pee-poop mystery. I was determined to find it.

I kept him naked a fair amount of time at home, though I diapered him (in cloth prefolds with a cover) when out and about. I offered him the potty if it was easy when out and about, but I didn’t worry about it too much. I read Ingrid Bauer’s book. I joined online forums. I started our local chapter of DiaperFreeBaby. I charted his pees and poops! I was a woman obsessed. Perhaps I had come to resemble that “crazy lady” first mentioned to me…

But I couldn’t blame myself. What else can we do in the absence of having the way modeled for us in person, passed down from mothers, grandmothers, aunties? I did my best with what I had. And I think I eventually relaxed about it, realizing there was no key, or rather that the key was to be receptive not preemptive, to connect not control…

And if I didn’t relax then, I really, truly relaxed by the time my second child was born. That guy came out of me, onto our bed at home, and into his father’s arms, and then into mine. I held him and nursed him and diapered him (cloth prefold with a cover, again). When we woke up, I nursed him, put the potty bowl between my legs, and cradled him over the opening.

“Hm,” I thought. “Nothing’s happening…” and as I lifted him off, I saw it, his first poop, his meconium poop, plopping right into the pot.

Well, I’ll be.

Mica on the potty bowl (3 days old)

With Mica, I diapered him in cloth (prefolds with a cover) and offered him the potty every diaper change. Who had time to sit around making charts anymore? Plus, I had been my own role model, had found other role models, my EC muscles had their own memories and the ease of experience.

More…

The EC Store carries the EC basics.

Continuum-Family: Natural Parenting Essentials carries many EC supplies.

DiaperFreeBaby is a comprehensive clearing house for all things EC-related: support groups, articles, how-to information, photos, links for more gear, etc.

This post of mine has more “how-to” information.

*  *  *
Carnival of Natural Parenting -- Hobo Mama and Code Name: MamaYou can visit Natural Parents Network today to see excerpts from everyone’s posts or use the links below. If you want to participate in the next carnival, learn more at Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama.
Other carnival participants:

Attachment/Responsive Parenting

Attachment/responsive parenting is generally considered to include the following (descriptions/lists are not exhaustive; please follow each link to learn more):

  1. PREPARE FOR PREGNANCY, BIRTH, AND PARENTING:
  2. FEED WITH LOVE AND RESPECT:
  3. RESPOND WITH SENSITIVITY:
    • “Attachment Parenting Chose Us” — For a child who is born “sensitive,” attachment parenting is more a way of life than a parenting “choice.” Dionna at Code Name: Mama shares her experiences. (@CodeNameMama)
    • “Parenting in the Present” — Acacia at Be Present Mama parents naturally by being fully present.
    • “Parenting With Heart” — Kat at Loving {Almost} Every Moment parents naturally because healthy attachments early in life help our little ones grow into healthy, functioning adults.
  4. USE NURTURING TOUCH:
  5. ENSURE SAFE SLEEP:
    • “Sometimes I Wish We Coslept” — Sheila at A Gift Universe has started to add cosleeping into her sleep routines and has found frequently unspoken benefits. Watch for her post, which will be featured on Natural Parents Network on Tuesday, November 30. (@agiftuniverse)
  6. PROVIDE CONSISTENT AND LOVING CARE:
  7. PRACTICE GENTLE/POSITIVE DISCIPLINE:
    • “Unconditional Parenting” — The philosophy of Alfie Kohn resonates with Erin at Multiple Musings, who does not want to parent (or teach) using rewards and punishment. (@ErinLittle)
  8. STRIVE FOR BALANCE IN PERSONAL AND FAMILY LIFE:

Ecological Responsibility and Love of Nature

Holistic Health Practices

  • “Supporting Natural Immunity” — If you have decided against the traditional vaccination schedule, Starr at Earth Mama has some helpful tips for strengthening your children’s immune systems naturally.

Natural Learning

  • “Acceptance as a Key to Natural Parenting” — Because Mrs. Green at Little Green Blog values accepting and responding to her daughter’s needs, she was able to unravel the mystery of her daughter’s learning “challenges.” (@myzerowaste)
  • “Let Them Look” — Betsy at Honest 2 Betsy makes time to look at, to touch, and to drool on the pinecones.
  • “Why I Love Unschooling” — Unschooling isn’t just about learning for Darcel at The Mahogany Way — it is a way of life. (@MahoganyWayMama)
  • “Is He Already Behind?“Ever worry that your baby or toddler is behind the curve? Danielle at born.in.japan will reassure you about the many ways your little one is learning — naturally — every day. Watch for her post, which will be featured on Natural Parents Network on Tuesday, November 16. (@borninjp)
  • “How to Help Your Child through Natural Learning” — Deb Chitwood at Living Montessori Now offers tips on how to understand and nurture your child’s natural learning style. (@DebChitwood)

Healthy Living

Parenting Philosophies

Political and Social Activism

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Parks and the City

By Stacy Lewis on November 2, 2010

My kind of TV show…

on his birthday
Douglas Fir Forest
I can’t see the top!
in the creek
the season of peekaboo sun
busy in the water
still in the water
nature school

{These pictures are from three different city parks in one week… I love living in Seattle! And this doesn’t even include photos of the spawning salmon we saw outside the Renton Public Library. Which technically isn’t in Seattle (because, you know, it’s in Renton), but it is as close to us as some of these other parks, which is why, I’ll say it again: I love living in Seattle!)

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Cohousing: What, How, and Why

By Stacy Lewis on November 1, 2010

As many of you know, we recently moved to a cohousing community here in Seattle. I first heard about cohousing almost five years ago and the idea resonated with me. I remember thinking, “Wow! We really don’t have to do this all alone!”

Over the years, we visited all the communities in and around Seattle. But it was difficult to figure out how to make that leap — sell our house and move in with a bunch people we didn’t know? What if it’s terrible? And why couldn’t we just make it work where we were?

But we kept coming back to cohousing, and we kept coming back to the specific communities we “clicked” with (the one where we live now — in the city — and one on an island near the city). We almost bought a smaller unit here two years ago, but we ended up not doing it. At the time, it was financially dicey and the unit was too small for us, but looking back, I also can see that we weren’t emotionally ready to make the change. Plus I was in the thick of my health crisis and quite a mess. Moving then would have been incredibly challenging in so many ways.

And slowly, over time, the “unknown” became known. A family here invited us to their kids’ birthday parties. I saw people at my meditation group who lived here. We attended dinners. And then this summer, when a (big-enough but not giant) home came for sale here, we took the leap! (Houses in cohousing communities don’t often turn-over.)

And everything seemed to fall into place. There was still a ton of work and a few challenging times, but it not only sounded right, it felt right, if you know what I mean.

Cohousing has always sounded right to me. Such as…

Cohousing communities are old-fashioned neighborhoods created with a little ingenuity. They bring together the value of private homes with the benefits of more sustainable living. That means common facilities and good connections with neighbors. All in all, they stand as innovative answers to today’s environmental and social problems.

Cohousing residents are consciously committed to living as a community. 

In a cohousing community, you know who lives six houses down because you eat common meals with them, decide how to allocate homeowners dues and gratefully accept a ride from them when your car’s in the shop. You begin to trust them enough to leave your 4-year-old with them. You listen to what they have to say, even if you don’t agree with them at first, and you sense that you, too, are being heard. { Read more. }

But do we know yet what it will really be like living here? What it’s like to not eat at home or to spend the evening cleaning up after a meal not resting or being with my family? Having other “claims” on my time (meetings, committees, work parties)? Do I know if I’ll have enough patience to promote a change? Be comfortable being seen by so many people? What about parents here who parent differently than us? Will that source of tension become a greater bond or just uncomfortable?

I don’t know how it is all going to go, but we’re willing to find out, to keep feeling our way through this experience.

I get so many responses when I say we’ve moved into cohousing. They range from “Right on!” to “Huh?” From “I could never do that!” to “I’ve always wanted to.” From a noncommittal “Nice” to a confused “You’re living on a commune now?”

And sometimes when I explain cohousing, it doesn’t sound that radical at all. It sounds a lot like living in a neighborhood — or how neighborhoods used to be. Or maybe more like how villages used to be/are.

Each family/person here has their own private residence, but we share certain amenities like a common house with a huge kitchen, living room, guest room, laundry, workshop, and a playroom. There are courtyards, a garden, and an outdoor play area.

The layout of the community itself is designed to create connection — cars are parked off-site and homes all face toward a courtyard (there is, however, privacy in the way the homes are situated).

Legally, we are a condo association, but internally all decisions are made through consensus.

There are opt-in community-wide meals, twice a week, and one meal per week for “young families” (also opt-in). In general, you sign up to work (either shop, clean or cook) twice a month and then eat eight times a month, getting your meals set aside for you if can’t attend. However, there is no requirement to follow this to the letter; there is trust that it will all work out, and and understanding that the goal is not to get everyone to do equal amounts of work but to create community connection through sharing food.

One thing that we really appreciate about this particular community is that everyone, as a whole, seems skilled in and dedicated to responsible and respectful communication. There are guidelines for discussions in meetings, and a particular process that supports reaching consensus, but also an understanding that face-to-face talking and sharing will help shift things. There is also a fair amount of trust, and an awareness about not creating bureaucracy. There is a genuine acceptance of others’ differences, respect for one’s privacy, and a willingness to truly connect with one another.

At least, that is our impression of how it’s been so far. :) I feel it is fundamentally true but I also know there will be difficulties, discomforts, misunderstandings… but I don’t think those are going to define our experience living here or our relationships to one other.

I’ll be writing more as time goes on… sometimes in more or less detail.

Here is what I’ve written so far:

When we were part of a short-lived group trying to start a new cohousing community
When we found out we were moving 
The view from our new house
Settling in
Cohousing welcome ritual

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A Nice Night

By Stacy Lewis on October 31, 2010

Monica tinged the glass with her utensil.

“Okay, everyone, let’s do it!”

Everyone piled on their clothes and filed out. Ten-year-old Annie rang the ceremonial gong, and everyone left the Common House, headed to our house.

We arrived home.

“Okay,” Monica said, “so, you guys go outside, and we’ll all gather here, and then you can come out, you know, together as a family, and you can say a few words, then I’ll hand you the candle and you can light it in the window.”

Got it!

We were doing a welcoming ceremony, one that Monica had asked about at dinner two nights ago. She said they used to do something like this each time someone new moved in, though they hadn’t done in a while, and would we be into having one?

“Sure,” I said. “I like rituals.”

She was going to give us the candle first, but then changed it to last, and they were all going to say “Welcome!” or something, but then everyone ended up spontaneously singing us a song, Home on the Range.

We were in our house and everyone was gathered outside, singing us a song, and then as it ended, we came out onto our porch. Inside I had asked Rom if he knew what he was going to say, and he said no and I said I didn’t either.

But the time came to say a few words, and Rom came forth with how touched he felt in his heart to see everyone standing there, how he felt like we’ve arrived, home, and how his heart is growing to include everyone here, and everyone said, “Aw,” and then I lit the candle and carried it inside and six-year-old Harriet hugged Orlando and everyone smiled, and then we went back to the common house for dessert.

And then – yes, there’s more – it was Rom and Lee’s night to clean but a few more of us stayed and helped, and Orlando and Mica played with Annie and her brother Izzy, and Dave and Deb set up the altar for the Day of the Dead, and I thought, This is what I love. All of us doing our things, separately but together, a kind of being-doing-togetherness.

It feels like being human.

photo by Bill Liao

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