state of mind

Last night Isabel woke up at night with a high fever. Joshua and I found immense patience within ourselves as we moved through the night barely sleeping, and entered into the day barely awake. There was no doubt, no confusion. Isabel was sick and we needed to just do whatever had to be done in that moment... for her, for each other, for ourselves, and for Anaïs. And we did... and despite being sick and tired Isabel was kind and cooperative. It gave me pause as to why the times when our patience wanes in the day to day expectations about sleep, eating, schedules and so on. I was struck by the fact that when we knew without a doubt the reason for a certain behaviour, a positive response was simple and clear. Yet, when the wake ups don't make sense... or at least we cannot identify a clear reason for what is causing a certain reaction; our own response become harder to justify... not only to others, but to ourselves. Our patience gets worn and we just want things to make sense. And yet, the sense is not always clear in the moment. But what is clear to me is that there is a reason to respect the other person, the other child, the other spirit... their expression is real and justifiable; even if it does not make perfect sense to us. Our frustration does not find its roots in this moment; rather, it comes from our own ideas about ourselves and our world. Our expectations, our fears, our doubts. And so, in this moment, I found myself putting forth a challenge to me... to remember my state of mind when I could understand the cause, especially in those moments when I could not. For it does not matter what the reason... it simply is what it is; and it always, always passes. May I find "the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference"... and above all, the strength to trust that everything is exactly as it is meant to be.

what moves me...

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." ~ Leo BuscagliaThese words moved me. The woman who 'shared' it with me has a heart of gold; her presence in my life moves me. The moment shared between Isabel & Anaïs in this photo moved me (isabel was singing a song of love to her little sister and anaïs was captivated)... and all of this comes together to express how I feel about life, humanity, the world, and the relationships that feed our souls. For me, becoming a mother has offered me the greatest lessons in miracles... some might say it is a mere shift in perspective and I would totally agree. But there is nothing 'mere' about it. Yet, as I share my own lessons with others and hear their own tales, I realize that any act/experience which engages us, captures us, challenges us to be real and in this moment offers this same opportunity. The paths might be different, but journey is so similar.

choices and validation

"One who is undisturbed by the flow of desires, as the ocean is unmoved by the incessant flow of rivers, finds peace." ~ Bhagavad Gita, 2.70 The trouble with choices is rarely about the choices themselves, but what others may think about the choices we make... friends, parents, children, strangers. It is rare that a day goes by without some kind of advice given by others... most of it is benign and perhaps all should be taken so lightly. Yet sometimes (and it seems so often with parenting) someone says something that strikes a cord of self-doubt. And we are thrown into a spiral of wondering and defensiveness. Inevitably, every conversation I have with another mom there is always talk about the 'opinions of others' and how they affect us so much. Each time it makes me wonder when we stopped trusting our own instincts and put all the power of 'expertise' outside of ourselves. I suppose it has been decades of developing a society built on authority and control. Yet, the more trust we place outside of ourselves, the more control we put into rules and guidelines, the more out of control we often feel as individuals. There is certainly a good argument of some kind of 'social rules'. Yet, the rules seem only to defy human nature... it is as if we are always saying: "We don't trust that you will choose to do the right thing; so we are going to make rules, laws, punishments and rewards to entice you to do the right thing." As I grow into my role as a mom, I find myself questioning the validity of these rules. I want to, I choose to, believe without reservation that my kids (and all kids) are good. That the ways they use to voice their opinions may not always fit with my own ideas about what is the 'right way to behave in public' or at any given moment... but it is their voice. They are not trying to purposefully manipulate a situation. And so I choose to listen to their voices as best as I can with patience and love. Oh it is not easy. So often I need to count to ten and take a really deep breath when her voice/choice and opinion does not cooperate with my own expectations. But what would it accomplish to punish her for breaking a rule that she did not create and does not even begin to understand. The most amazing thing is that each time I choose to listen to her, I also find my own voice. Rather than simply following a rule, I trust my instinct. Each time I choose to experience this moment as it is, I am liberated from all the external voices/judgments and I find myself. In a way, it is as if the hardest and most challenging experiences offer the most incredible opportunities for growth. My validation suddenly no longer needs to come from an external source... instead it just is, right here and right now. Yet, as I travel this road, no matter how committed I am... and no matter how rewarding it is. I am so happy to have friends along the way who can offer words of encouragement and support along the way. No matter how confident one is, hearing the support from outside is still ingrained in our psyche. And so, I hope for my kids and their generation they will find that strength within themselves... I hope they don't need all the validation and they simply feel confident in their own choices, their own voices, their own selves!!

Happy Father's Day & Happy Solstice

We spent a lovely father's day at 'La Granja' -- a little visiting farm where Isabel was able to feed carrots to all the animals. She is too cautious to actually feed them herself, but she found a little friend to whom she would pass the carrots and watch the cows, goats, llamas and even ducks devour them from her hand. There is a great play area with slides and teeter-totters where Isabel was able to run around. It was sweet to watch her run around freely... always eager to make friends. As soon as she sees another kid close to her in size she runs right up to them and starts to make conversation. In the picture above she was on the teeter-totter yelling Happy Father's Day to her papa!! The day started off with homemade banana muffins and a coffee that Isabel brought to papa in bed... though instead of 'father's day', she sang happy birthday to papa. I guess she couldn't quite get the concept yet... so many new celebrations she has been learning about this year. The girls made a beautiful photo album for their dad with foot and hand prints... Isabel helped Anaïs paint her toes yellow to make the imprint on the page. For me, it was a really special time to reflect on how blessed we are to have such a wonderful family. As I look around I see so many dads that are not involved and missing out on some of the most spectacular years of their kids lives. Especially as we make our home away from Canada, the prevelance of absent fathers is so striking (in many cases the moms too, with most kids spending the majority of their time with nanny's and in daycares). It is definitely a choice that can be hard to make; and it is very personal. Yet, as I took a moment to honour the father of Isabel and Anaïs, I was truly overwhelmed at how much joy we get from being together. And more grateful than words could even begin to describe to have a partner who chooses to spend time with family - and engages in every activity without compromise. There are certainly moments where I think this is just how it should be... it is our normal. Yet, for so many people it is not the reality. Having a partner I can count on through each step of this parenting journey is a gift that I treasure. So for Father's Day, I am filled with gratitude and appreciation to all of the men who choose to put their families first. And I am so happy that my daughters dad is just this kind of man!! It truly never ceases to amaze me... no matter how tired or what else is going on... there is always a smile and a hug and energy enough to play and read one more story. It is a well-talked about issue that mother's work goes unrecognized; yet the work of dads, the ones who are truly engaged, is not even on the discussion list. So, to all you dad's who walk the talk and love being a papa... this is your day!! This year, Father's Day falls on the same day as Summer Solstice... the longest day of the year. Though, living this close to the equator and at such a high altitude, the days seem to be exactly the same length with each rotation of the earth. But even still, there is a magic about this day. The energy of the sun seems stronger, even if the day does not feel longer. It is also a day where I feel an urge to honour nature in its power and its brilliance. "To see the World in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wildflower, hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour." ~ William Blake

A few days by the sea...

Last week we spent a few days (June 3-7) by the sea on a little island called San Andres. It is a tiny island in the shape of a sea horse, nestled close to two other islands: Providencia and Santa Catalina. The archipelago of San Andrés, Providencia y Santa Catalina, identified by UNESCO as a World Biosphere Reserve, is located 480 miles (720 km) northwest from the Colombian Caribbean Coast.

Closer to Nicaragua and Jamaica, how the archipelago came to be a Colombian territory is the result of piracy, wars of independence, slavery, immigration, sugar, cotton and religion.

Originally settled by the Spanish in 1510, the islands were part of the Audiencia of Panama, then part of the Capitanía of Guatemala and Nicaragua. English Puritans and Jamaican woodcutters followed the pirates and it wasn’t until 1821 during the Wars of Independence that Francisco de Paula Santander took the islands and the Colombian flag was raised on June 23, 1822.

Sugar and cotton plantations were the mainstays of the early economy and slaves were imported from Jamaica to work the fields. Even after the islands became Colombian territory, the English influence remained in architecture, language, and religion.The archipelago consists of two large islands, San Andrés and Providencia. San Andrés, at the southern end of the archipelago, is the largest island at 13 km long and 3 km wide. It is mostly flat, with the highest point being El Cliff overlooking El Centro, the local name for the town of San Andrés at the northern end of the island. Most of the tourism and commercial business are here.

The island is walkable, but you can rent a scooter or moped to explore. Providencia is the next largest island, at 7 km long and 4 km wide. Located 90 km north of San Andrés, it was for many years quieter and less affected by tourism. However, it is rapidly becoming extremely fashionable and expensive. It is still a lure to snorkelers and divers who come for the extensive coral reefs and clear water.

And it is no wonder, we took a boat out one afternoon and the water was breathtaking... it is hard to capture on film the intensity and clarity of the sea that was in our sight. The boat ride was likely the highlight of our trip. We had originally planned to join a tour group in the morning, but the rain was pouring when we woke up and decided it was too much to try to venture out with the girls. So, instead, we enjoyed a private tour in the afternoon. As soon as the music came on Isabel started dancing and she stopped only to stare at the water from the edge of the boat. Anaïs was totally relaxed and even took a nap. Joshua and I both got in the water with the manta rays... and unbelievable experience. They were so slippery and slimy as they swam by; and there were so many of them swimming the waters between our feet. Huge and yet so graceful in their movements. It was as if they were dancing at our feet.

This trip marked the first time Anaïs was at sea level, and her first swim in the salty Caribbean Sea. We were blessed with beautiful weather and enjoyed playing on the beach from morning until night. Isabel was in heaven playing in the sand, splashing in the water. And both girls made friends with everyone at the hotel -- which was a blessing for me as I was able to enjoy time with one or the other while some gentle soul held Anaïs so I could take a swim with Isabel; or watched over Isabel so I could take a stroll with Anaïs.

This vacation was such a treasure... the sun revitalized my spirit, the sea refuelled my soul. It was hot, hot, hot; and I will admit that by the final day I was ready to go back to the more temperate weather in Bogota. But it also gave me a taste of how nice it is to take a vacation with the two girls... and the many beautiful memories we will be making along the way as we travel the world.

It's amazing what a sense of peace even a short vacation by the sea can offer. Though San Andres might not be our destination of choice for a longer trip. It was just what we needed to recharge our batteries!! You can find more photos from out trip at http://picasaweb.google.ca/jpstories/SanAndresJune37#

laughter

Gratitude is the open door to abundance. ~ Yogi Bhajan

Each day that I watch my children experience the world I am filled with a sense of wonder. Is it possible to be so blessed? For the many moments of frustration, and the never ending exhaustion that comes along with parenthood; the abundance of blessings far outweighs the challenges. My children teach me to let go and live in the present moment... in a way that I never thought I would experience. They actively force me to move out of my head and just be... knowing that right now is the most precious moment of all. And as I release expectations, the blessings multiply. Rather than fretting about what is right/wrong, whether I am making the best choices... I can just enjoy what actually is. Life is perfect not because it is meeting some kind of expectations... but simply because it is what it is in this moment. Nothing reinforces this reality for me more than the laughter of my children. They truly are my greatest teachers. So long as I can put aside all the shoulds, the vulnerabilities, the insecurities and just be... I create the space to allow them to be just who they are... blossoming into incredible people who I love spending time with.

All this is not to say that I never lose my patience, or use a harsh tone unnecessarily; but rather that I am beginning to realise that when I do these things, it is rarely because of something that needs to change in my girls... rather, it is a lesson and a window into something that I can learn about myself. A simple shift in perspective... it's what miracles are made of.

Perfection in perspective...

We strive to be perfect... whatever this means. Sometimes we do not even realize we are doing it, and yet we judge ourselves for all our 'faults' and 'failures'. This judgment seems even more profound as we enter parenthood... seeking answers from books and experts. We get so caught up in all the 'shoulds' of any given stage... and we forget that it all passes: the good and the bad. As expectant mothers we worry about the pregnancy, than about the labour. In the early months we worry about breastfeeding/bottle feeding; then we worry about forming bad sleep habits or encouraging good ones; we move into fretting about weaning and introducing the right foods (how much are they eating, is it the right stuff); and then we get into behaviour control with time-outs and incentives; potty-training; homeworks; curfews... rules or no rules; permissiveness versus strict control. And throughout it all we seek out expert advice - often allowing this advice to trump our own instincts. And sometimes we just suffer with getting too much unwanted advice... and while we try to ignore it, the words sink into our psyche and fill us with self-doubt. At what point did we stop listening to our own instincts and start believing that 'someone' or 'something' 'out there' knows better, has a better answer, can offer an easy solution. Yet, being a parent is hard... no matter what rules we follow. It challenges us to live in the here and now. It forces us to take a deeper look at our own insecurities. It exposes to us our most tender vulnerabilities. And if we stop and listen... we realise that our children are truly our greatest teachers. It is us who are learning from them, not the other way around. And somehow, someway, they grow into wonderful human beings regardless of the little details along the way... whether we rocked them to sleep or they dozed in a crib; whether they ate their dessert first or devoured plates of brocolli; whether they sat calmly on a plane ride across the ocean, or let everyone around them know they did not enjoy sitting still. We can guide them and inspire them; but we do not need to change our children. They are magic, just as they are. And perhaps, as we listen to advice along the way... we may want to heed the advice that comes from the heart, rather than that which fills us with doubt and uncertainty. There are a million different reasons why not to allow babies to fall asleep in our arms... and yet, following this advice means we miss out on one of the most precious gifts of having a newborn. The sense of peace and awe that fills our souls when we hold a sleeping baby. I was recently having a conversation with a good friend of mine who has three teenage kids; and I asked her whether she had any advice to ensure that Isabel continues to transition well into being a big sister. And she told me something that was so simple, and yet to me so utterly profound. She said that if there was any sibling rivalry between her girls she doesn't remember. She said: "Right now this is where you are, and so it seems like it is everything. But it is just a passing moment. Soon you will move into the next one and worry about that." And suddenly I realised that I don't need to worry... because it will be what it will be. And I spend all my time worrying about the little nuances, I will miss out on the magic moments that I want to savour. A day later I came across the following note and it further accentuated the importance of this message: Everything passes... the sleepless nights and the late night giggles... enjoy what fills you with laughter and know that with each new day the light shines again and the heaviness of the night passes. ---- All My Babies Are Gone Now http://forksandchopsticks.wordpress.com/2007/05/13/all-my-babies-are-gone-now/ By Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow, but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past. Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach, T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education — all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations — what they taught me, was that they couldn’t really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2. When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton’s wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too. Every part of raising children is humbling. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the “Remember-When-Mom-Did” Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language –mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, “What did you get wrong?” (She insisted I include that here.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald’s drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking? But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That’s what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were. ----- It has taken me nearly two and a half years of being a parent to realize that the perfect moment, the perfect reaction, the perfect parent, the perfect child are figments of our imagination... and in reality, the perfect everything is right here, right now.