natural parenting center

being still

Life is one big paradox.

Stillness doesn't come for me until after a big burst of movement. A run alongside the swollen brown spring river, pushing little miss chatterbug, checking on that osprey nest. A yoga sesh in the studio or by myself in the strangely quiet house, listening to Sharath count me through this insanely fantastic practice. A big ski day gulping snowy mountain air.

Then, stillness comes a knocking. The quiet awakens in my bones. The restless beast inside takes a moment of respite and sighs calmly. It's delicious.

I know it's important, being still. When I settle into it, I can't help but smile. And I remember what I've learned from the Field Center which is that stillness is where choice becomes available, the choice to live in a way that is deeply fulfilling and whole. 

Yep. Good stuff.

october moments

I feel such a stunning array of emotions during this month of falling...

::delight breathing in deep lungfulls of moist, crisp air which tastes like the color orange

::blissful overwhelm with the abundance of apples, plums, tomatoes, potatoes, nourishment from the earth in every shade and flavor begging to be pickled, frozen, dried, somehow tenderly kept longer than just this one moment of ripeness

::spilling over gratitude for days like this past rainy sunday of cider pressing with friends, drinking in the golden brown explosion of fresh sweetness and laughing along the hours of turning the weathered crank and scooping bucketfulls of pomme de mush

::timid dread for the months of darkness ahead, bundled inside separate houses, each of us alone in our little world of children, struggling to convince chubby toes to wear tights and boots and layers and layers and layers

::fierce determination to keep us all healthy, already seeing that the forces of seasonal change are bigger than my dropperfull of echinacea, trusting that winter is an immune builder somehow

::excitement for holiday plans to drive north to be with family

::joyful for the creativity of making holiday things, starting already

::restless which seems to be a fall thing for me, resisting the earth's wisdom to call me inside myself, to embrace quieter rhythms, to trust the cycle of death and darkness and let that be too, instead wanting to flee on travel adventures, to shift and heave and demand even bigger changes, to shed old skins like the trees letting loose their leaves

::eager to celebrate and honour, like the leaves call to bring forth their most stunning display before they set themselves free of all earthly bonds

::sad to let go of the dreams of summer which never came to bear fruit

::and happy, to be here, feeling these feelings, riding the waves, with two strong legs and a beating heart with fingers that smell like pumpkins and apples.

musings

::yesterday, the gentle man who came recently to teach me about meditation called and asked to come visit to inquire about how my practice is going. i gasped a little on the phone since i've sat once since my "lesson". i noticed i didn't actually feel like a kid in trouble but felt cared for by his willingness to tend to me in that way. it was inspiration enough to sit last night. i wept with the relief of doing what matters so deeply to me but which i have been not doing, choosing to knit instead. which i also love. 

::the sewing machine started huffing and chugging today in a most disturbing way then quit working altogether in the middle of a peter pan tunic. i feel sad about that. i'm sitting here with a needle in my mouth, ready to stitch it up by hand after i finish this post.

::i'm wondering if we each have a well-worn groove (frequently referred to as a default) which either leans more towards loose and easy-going and chaotic or strict and structured and tighter. i wonder if our work as mothers is to widen our own grooves, maybe etch out new paths altogether. i wonder if that gives us more peace, that kind of flexibility. i wonder if we go back into our most worn grooves whenever we are tired and stressed and lonely. 

::i wonder why making things is so appealing to me. it has a hold on me. that's mostly what i gently bring myself back from while i'm sitting in meditation. i wonder if meditation and mothering are even possible together. i tell myself that it's harder because i'm mothering all day. i like moving and doing. i wonder why i think that's bad. or less good than sitting still.

::i notice how much bigger the response is to a post that shares my vulnerabilities. do you think we are all so hungry to hear that from each other? to not compare ourselves to others and feel rotten, but to see others and feel more accepting of ourselves? do we all need that so much? why, do you think?

::i also notice that i don't need to post a photo to say something. i wonder if it's better not to. 

::i'm shifting from putting up food to thinking about making things for winter holidays. creativity can be such a source of light as the darkness closes in. i am feeling those familiar fall feelings of discontent, especially after two long live-ins with women and children i love in recent months. i miss them. the nuclear family thing is lonely. so much stress on relationships, even with wonderful friends in the same town. it's not the same as living together with women. the village. i want what our female ancestors had. there is so much work to do in a house with children on our own. how is it for you?

 

the best part

of this blog, for me, is being in conversation with you. i am so grateful for everyone's comments from the last post and i hope you will join in the conversation there. some new questions have been raised where you might have some insights to provide some of us. the hum of connection...i so love this. thank you for being here and giving a part of yourself to the conversation. 

oh...and the photo? my goodness i love wool. do you? a friend came over today and showed me how to wash and block a sweater, i bought a half yard of boiled wool which is my new evening shawl, and i am knitting a hat made from hand spun yarn. ahhhh. thank you sheep. what do you love sinking your hands into?

and...i just read on this blog something that i LOVE...you can go there to check it out and the lovely lady there and, here is what her post said today...

NOT TO SPOIL THE ENDING FOR YOU BUT, 

EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OK.

 

right now...

::i am a wee big sadly good-bye to warm sunny days of sitting outside and knitting, like this. 

::i am satisfied to have put the entire veggie garden to bed today, saying sleep tight to the seed children.

::i am grateful for a couple more farmer's markets which are exploding with harvest while thinning out with people.

::i am happy the fire season is over and papa is home again.

::i am tickled to look into the root cellar and see such a rainbow of jars, sealed up clean and tight, ready to offer themselves to us through the dark winter days ahead.

::i am completely shifting my approach to parenting because of several things which have happened and come to me in the last few weeks...excited to share more about this.

 

turning upwards

I am amazed. The other day, I was feeling sad and noticing my thoughts spiraling into the prickly abyss where nothing good happens, I have to strenuously figure every little thing out, and there is no easy answer to anything. 

Somehow I have these stuffed full pockets, areas of my life where somehow I think that my basic formula for joy doesn't count. These pockets are like some kind of "rules don't apply here" areas where I automatically go totally unconscious which basically means I end up in my head, stuck and feeling rotten. Maybe it's money or relationships or car mechanics. 

Then, with a little nudge, it occurred to me that the formula for joy applies everywhere and to everything. Thank goodness. Phew. Hallelujah. Ahhhh. 

And it worked. I got clear on my intention, (this can be general or specific and is basically what you want to have/do/be) sent them like little missiles into space, then let the Universe take over while I diligently began turning my thoughts upwards. I looked for things that felt good to think about. These things don't have to have anything to do with whatever situation is feeling stressful. That's the amazing thing. I thought of raspberry peonies. Burying my face in a hundred ripe, full, exploding blossoms. Drinking in that sensuous nectar.

I immediately felt a whole body shift upwards. Then, as is always the case, delightful things began happening (or were happening all along but I finally turned myself towards and opened my eyes.). The situation which was causing me stress changed. I quit trying to control it. I let myself be surprised.

Ten things:

1. Raspberry peonies

2. Stupendous girlfriends

3. Plane tickets to Vancouver Island in August

4. Tanned toes

5. Purple pea flowers morphing into peas

6. Tangible changes in kindness towards myself as a result of Magical Mothering E-Course

7. Raw blueberry pie with cashew cream topping

8. Loosening my grip on how things turn out and feeling content as that water flows through my fingers

9. Greens from the garden, greens in the smoothie, greens everywhere

10. Two small humans who dance with me every day.

What's your list of Ten?

xo

 

 

 

A fresh take

art by bill hatcher

When I think about being on the beach, I think that what I'm also after is a fresh take on things, new eyes and wind in my hair. Sometimes where I end up, through an inner shift I bring myself to,  is embodying a truer me...more grounded, powerful, clear. 

All the Universe wants from us is to be honestly ourselves. So simple and so huge, too!

If you hunger for a little more of this, whether in the area of parenting or anything else in your life, then let's do it together. We can look at specific issues you are having with your children, things you want more of for yourself, old habits you are ready to be rid of but feel stuck when it comes to changing them.

One week of email coaching can give you something profound, if you are ready and willing, and for only $50. 

 

"What you seek is seeking you." 
—Rumi 

conversations with silence.
over the next while i will be sharing posts with no words. consider it an invitation to be still and to attend to the silence that is calling to you.

always, change

Things are shifting around here, inside and out. Aren't they always, here and where you are, too? The rhythm of our days is more loose, with afternoon siestas and late to bed at night. Being here with you is more random, it seems. Here I am at 3:58pm on the computer. This is what now happens to be. 

What are you resisting right now? What is that resistance telling you? 

Sometimes accepting everything is what's called for. And sometimes not. Sometimes within your resistance to what is, there is a powerful voice, a message. If you can feel into it deeply and discern away the shoulds and the other voices, there might be a truth asking to be heard. A change you need to make, rather than simply a letting go and acceptance of things as they are. 

I sat down to write, without premeditation and this is what came. Does this speak to you?

What if?

What are you judging yourself for, right in this very moment?

What if you stopped?