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What if I allowed this to be enough. All of this that already is. Enough. Even simply writing that, I sighed and felt my whole body relax. When I sink into the experience of enough, I shift from the wanting, wanting, wanting more.
Oh it is a sweet place to be, this landscape of enough.
And just look at how much there is...
SEEING beauty
MAKING beauty
BEING beauty
You have now found the conditions in which the desire of your heart can become the reality of your being. Stay here until you acquire a force in you that nothing can destroy.
-spoken to the mystic Gurdjieff by his teacher (as
quoted in The Divine Matrix)
We considered going camping today. Then, thinking about all the preparations bogged us down and we stayed home. Ellliott had some feelings about that.
Are you feeling sad?
(crying) Yes, I want to go camping.
Yeah. You like camping. (I held him while he cried. Then, I wondered...)
When you imagine going camping, what part are you excited about?
Roasting marshmallows (cries increase).
Right. I suspected as much.
Good thing we stayed home, too. Tim got called out on a fire tonite. He's off to Southern California tomorrow morning.
Honestly, what is the point of the word 'should'?
Either you do something or don't, it's really quite simple.
'Should', used in any context, dilutes joy. It is one of those sneaky ways that we pretend that we have no choice. I don't want to bog down my children with shoulds, nor am I willing to do that to myself.
The trick is noticing them, because, as you know...they are sneaky. I need to take a moment and let myself feel what I want, not think what I should.
I should do the dishes before I write the blog. (says who? i want to do the blog first tonite.)
I should read that book from start to finish. (why? i will read the parts that interest me.)
I shouldn't where a bikini to the river because of the way my body looks. (oh dear. you are actually considering denying yourself that pleasure?)
NO. I'm not actually willing to listen to that should and miss out on this joy...
Watching football players and rolling down the grassy slope on our way to our favorite river spot.
Natalie and Saschy girl floating down the current.
She wanted the 'big kids' tubey, not the baby one with the seat in the middle. And why not? She doesn't believe in 'should' either.
Elliott and Echo in the sand. Creating worlds.
And one more because they are, well, so beautiful.
Papa came home from a fire today, a kayaker was born, and Sascha got a new dress in the mail made by Grammy.
And, Elliott was not only curious about mermaids pooping.
When am I going to die? Maybe in September. Or Tuesday or Wednesday. Or before Christmas. Or after Christmas.
Scorpions are scary. If I see a scorpion, I'm going to KILL it, chop it in half, bam.
I'm uncomfortable. Maybe I'll give my body more information for what it needs.
Mom, I feel like hurting a human being.
I don't know what I'm going to dream about. Maybe Santa. I dreamed I saw him and asked him for ice skates and he said YES.
Why do wasps make baskets like that? (looking at the nest)
I've had some curiosities of my own today.
What would it be like to never make comparisons?
What if anger is simply not an option, even just for one day?
What if kindness matters ABOVE ALL ELSE? How would I make decisions differently?
What if I applied "you cannot disappoint me" to everyone?
What if I let myself off the hook, whatever the 'hook' is that is totally of my own making?
Maybe I can do this life thing my own way. (Yes, totally obvious to many of you I am sure, but quite the revelation to me, since I'm realizing how often I seek out someone else who is doing what I want to be doing just to be sure it's ok to be doing it that way. It makes me giggle, looking at it like that.?
What are you curious about, dear friends?
Making huckleberry bread this cloudy, cool morning. Perfect for baking with little hands dipping in all of it.
I forgot to take a picture of the finished loaf, and now it's almost gone!
Elliott has been putting his goalie gear on the last few days, regardless of the hot summer weather. He is instantly red--cheeked and sweaty. Last night, I was too tired to play, so I sat and nursed Saschy and 'announced' a pretend game where the amazing Elliott Peter Laroche The Goalie, as he likes to be called, saved every shot.
The look on his face was electric, really truly alive. I could sense that every cell was humming, for him. And I thought to myself...I want him to have that feeling every single day. If hockey is what does it right now, then bring it on.
The book Outliers (as told to me by Natalie, since I haven't read it myself), apparently talks about the magical number 10,000. That is how many hours it takes to become extraordinary at your craft.
Gladwell quotes neurologist Daniel Levitin as follows:
“In study after study, of composers, basketball players, fiction writers, ice-skaters, concert pianists, chess players, master criminals, this number comes up again and again. Ten thousand hours is equivalent to roughly three hours a day, or 20 hours a week, of practice over 10 years… No one has yet found a case in which true world-class expertise was accomplished in less time. It seems that it takes the brain this long to assimilate all that it needs to know to achieve true mastery.“
In my desire to question everything,and to reconsider how the world works, I'm opening myself to following this passion of his. Why not? I just don't buy all the standard ways of thinking about how to educate a child. I want to believe that anything is possible and that what is happening right here in front of me, is showing me the Way.
Mama?
Yeah, buddy?
Can I be the best goalie of all time?
Yes. You absolutely CAN.
Psst. If you need a little boost in believing, check out Creative Visualization and Divine Matrix
What a lovely summer day. The phrase dog days of summer kept running through my mind. We started off at the Clark Fork River Farmer's Market.
Thank goodness there are REAL farmers out there who don't let wee ones stand in the way of planting and growing food, so that we KINDASORTA gardeners can go reap the benefits at the market.
This year's garden in our yard is an outstanding crop of some enormous weed that is now taller than Elliott and thicker than a forest. Tim joked the other day when he was home between fires about hiring a hotshot crew to cut it down and create a fire break. haha. I remember what I was doing when it was planting time though....walking around with a sweet girl attached to my finger all day long. ahhhh. If you can't be planting, well then...
Today we bought strawberries, tomatoes, huckleberries, watermelon, cucumbers, arugula. Wishing we got some Lifeline Farms feta for a chunky greek salad. Maybe next week.
This market is especially sweet because there is this quiet little beach to retreat to when the heat and the crowds become too much. Here we played with mama-Gabe and Larkin.
This Saschy is a girl who loves trucks, or at least whatever those boys are doing. We need to start bringing one for her.
Then home for a bit, and out again for a separate river trip in the evening. Knowing that every day could be the last river day is pretty fine inspiration to get there (and a new floaty thingy for Sascha from Natalie and family...which she LOVED. Though, I didn't quite manage a photo while helping my two ducklings down the current.)
they played
she slept
i sat.
one moment of one day.
life.
they played
she slept
i sat.
one moment of one day.
life.
