Know When There's Love

Because when it's absent, it hurts. 

Pay attention to those little moments - when your children are so excited for cookies and milk, when they think you're the best mom ever, when they want to hold your hand as they come back to Earth after soaring through dreams all night. 

Savor the moments of family time - whether it's some extravagent vacation or an afternoon hike. Watch the sparkle in their eyes, the joy in their laughter, the kinship with their siblings. 

Pay attention to those little moments - when their hugs are so deep, when they won't leave for school without saying good-bye, when they make you feel like you are the luckiest parent in the world. 

Do not take love for granted. Do not let it go unnoticed. Set aside your things to do and your busyness - and bask in the love that is your children. 

Amelioration

The act of making something better. 

Did you know that?  I did not. Until I looked it up. The word was used in an essay my son wrote explaining how he likes to share information with friends in order to better - their lives? The world? I'm not sure what, but he does place lofty expectations on himself. 

What a good word it is though. And, no matter where you are in life - rethinking a career, celebrating or cringing after the last election, or just going along doing your own thing - we should all always be engaged in amelioration. 

"It's all good".  Whenever I say that to a certain friend of mine, she insists it is not all good. And, I know what she means. There are certain things you simply cannot call "good".  They are not good, nor will they ever be good. 

But stewing in their badness doesn't serve us either. And, believe me, I've been there. The tragic, early death of a friend might inspire one to seize and appreciate every moment, to love and live more deeply, to pursue joy more fearlessly. Me, however? I turned more cynical, somewhat bitter, and fearful of getting too close to anything or anyone. 

Living in that "it's not all good" space is not healthy. Nor is it fulfilling. And you certainly won't find much joy there. In times that wear us down, scare us, or make us feel hopeless - we must find the "good". We must work to turn the evil into better, to let the sadness lead us to joy again, to overcome fear and live loudly. 

We must engage in amelioration - the act of making something better. Don't accept that "it is what it is". You have the power to make it something different.  Find the peace in sorrow. Find the fire in grief. Find perseverance in fear. And move it all forward into something better. 

Magic Answers

When things are difficult, we look for the magic answer... the immediate "cure" - or, at least, the method by which we can lure a change.  

We attempt to coax change when we try to persuade our infants to sleep through the night, when we battle toddler tantrums, fussy eaters, a bad back, or a relationship that feels stuck.  Sometimes, we laugh - once we are past the moment - at how difficult we thought it was at the time.  Other times, we leave that moment worn out - hoping it never returns again.

But, something else will come to take its place for us to wage battle against, attempt to overcome, and hope - that we come out on top - all the better for the experience.

There are no magic answers.  There never were.  We collect the data from our village, from the professionals, from our souls - but, in the end, we must navigate this moment of life on our own.

My Wish For You Meditation

Today's wish for you, my children....


May you delight in the pursuit of wisdom. 
May you embrace simple pleasures. 
May you always see light in the darkness. 
May you find growth in pain. May you receive joy. 
May you stand strong in purpose. 
May you pursue with calm persistence.  

Make Your Mama Proud

I'm somewhat shamefully admitting that we've watched a lot of TV in the past few weeks. America's Got Talent, Chopped and other cooking competition shows (Cake Wars), and American Ninja Warrior have been top on our viewing list.

I've noticed one rather disturbing consistency. Aside from the fact that it's basically the same show over and over again.... Many of the contestants are in the show to "make someone proud".  

The contestants are on the show to make their children proud, their deceased mother, family in the country they've left behind, their boss at the very well known and famous restaurant....

And then they "lose".  "I just wanted to make my children proud."; "I wanted to show my family I left for a good reason."; "I let them down."

Do these people - these adult people - truly believe that it is their winning that makes their families proud? Is their mother not proud simply because they've taken a risk in the first place to come on the show? Is their family not proud of the fact that this person is following their dream and doing the best they can?

I hope that most of these people return home and realize their families are proud of them just for being themselves. I hope they are not berated for not winning, and that they receive massive points from their family members just for trying!

The smartest solution is probably to stop watching these shows, but - when you're tied up in bed - they are an easy time-filler. Instead, I've made it a habit now to point out the ridiculousness of this act to achieve pride. I always remark that I hope their families are proud of them for coming on the show, for doing what they love, and for being who they are. 

And, I always look for the opportunity to tell my children how proud I am of them - not for the things they achieve - but for the people who they are!

Two Weeks Notice - Effective Immediately

"Come here," I beckoned to my husband from the bed where I have spent most of the last week and a half. 

"I'm watching you," I said, "be - both - the mom and the dad... I don't want to be the mom anymore."

"I don't get it," he replied. 

"It's stressful," I whispered, about to lose all that is stuffed inside of me. 

"And you don't even drink," he said as he walked back out to face mothering and fathering duties, "I don't know how you do it."

Sciatic pain is keeping me from doing pretty much of everything. A slow return of a pain that led me to surgery two years ago when the founder of the SW Naturopathic College - known as Dr Anti-Surgery - asked me if I was afraid of dying on the table has come back full force. In fact, I think it is worse than it ever was. 

I have spent the past few months trying to remain neutral toward the erupting feeling of my leg being caught in a metal-spiked bear trap. I have thought and prayed and contemplated the deeper meaning and reason for my pain. What is my body and soul trying to tell me? Meditation will bring me into oneness with the pain - oh! I'm not even supposed to call it pain. Journaling will help me rise up to what it is I'm trying to tell myself. 

I've contemplated everything. Is it my marriage? A new career fear? Self-hate? Am I psycho? Out of touch? Too in touch? 

It's not difficult to lose energy when you spend most of the day lying down. It gets comfy in the pit. It's dizzying to stand - not to mention painful. I'm aware of every movement and how it feels. I was before the pain returned - grateful for every step that was a normal step. And now - when most movement carries pain. 

Just a week ago, I could not get to the bathroom without crying, seering, and tearing pain. 

On the other side of this tug of war between my soul and my Self is a worn out, tired, and pained self looking for the immediate fix. Turn it off. I don't care what it takes. I'll contemplate my soul and take care of her and nurture her when this is over. I promise. 

I can't do this anymore. As much as the Mommy-Time-Out might be 'nice' (did I really just say nice and sciatic pain in the same sentence?), it's not really that nice. And the longer it lasts, the harder it is to make my way back. That takes energy. Motivation. Stamina. 

Baby steps. Through the pain. To the answer. To life on the other side of sciatica. 

Everything Shifts

I'm finally 'unpacking' from my week long stay in Chicago.  I still had my carry on bag items stacked on the floor of my closet. Perhaps I wasn't ready to close the door on my grandfather's death. The books and papers still not put away - a reminder of a life; an entry into contemplation of my grandfather's life and the lessons it held; a reason to pause from whatever it was that had me so busy...

I put the Haggadah - the book I took from his shelves - and the prayer book he used when he performed weddings (It was a Machzor, by the way.  It must have been the perfect size to hold and had all of his new-couple speeches tucked inside - in both English and Spanish) on a shelf in my office.

It didn't quite fit, and as I slid it on the shelf - the picture next to it fell over, the heart rocks had to be moved, and the animal fetishes needed to be lifted and placed on top of those new things on my shelf.  "Everything just shifts over," I thought.

And, yes. Yes, it does.  With death, everything shifts.  Nothing is - nor will it ever be - as it was.  Sometimes that's really painful. Sometimes it's filled with sadness - or, perhaps, relief.

Things will shift.  And, we will find a way to adjust.  We will find a way to keep you present in this world and in our lives while moving on at the same time.  We will continue to honor the contributions you made to our lives and to the world, and we will find a way to forgive the mistakes and oversights that were made along the way. We will hold on and release.  Celebrate and mourn. Cling to each other a little more tightly or - perhaps - we will push away.  

The world will never be quite the same. 

Love is All Around You

Last Year:  July 1st, 2015

The laughter?  

Due to the fact that this was the 7th time 

we heard the same exact speech.

I believe - when we die, we return to love.  That in the beginning and in the end and all through the middle - the most important piece of life is love. 

Love is the space where there is peace.  Love is the feeling that all is ok in the world.  Love is a delighted soul and a curious mind. Love is comfort, and love brings joy.

If you believe the teachings of my friend, the 'ghost whisperer' (my affectionate term) - we receive messages from those who have passed on.  A plant that hasn't bloomed in ten years.  A glance at the clock at a certain time every day.  A hummingbird fluttering close.  Or, if you happen to have had a friend like mine with bounce-bounce curls and a sparkle in her eye and her life - your message may come in a more unique way - say, a fly or something much too wild to write down on paper.

Love is all around you.  Do you take note of the love messages given to you throughout the day?  Do you appreciate the blooming rose out your kitchen window?  Do you marvel at the sunset and the sunrise each day?  Does your heart fill with joy as you watch the hummingbird land in its nest to sit upon its eggs?

Mine does.  And, whether it is an observation of Mother Nature or a "sign" from a loved one who has passed on - these moments are all around us.  They are constantly occurring, and it is up to us to embrace them - or ignore them.

Since my Pops passed away early Saturday morning, I have seen more hearts than usual.  It's almost freaking me out.  The angle at which I looked at my pool - the ice cream drip that fell on the floor - the onion peel that girl baby handed me (she saw it too) - the cracks in the floor I never noticed before - the base of a tree that was weathered away...

My response? "I see that.  Love is all around me."

In Loving Memory of my Pops - Judge BB Wolfe 

July 1, 1914 - April 9, 2016

That's a nice, long life!

I'm Going In...

I have been known to say that "motherhood is a spiritual journey - so incredibly deep that I cannot quite put my finger on it or tell you anything concrete that would indicate I am a woman/mother of great depth".

I have also happily created and am eager to devote more of my time to my life coaching business ON THE VERGE OF ME (www.onthevergeofme.com) which focuses on balance, sanity and finding oneself within motherhood (my words - not the word of our business - go to the website for that).

The two abruptly collided while I was in Utah at Red Mountain Spa (www.redmountainspa.com) celebrating the 40th birthday of my friend-sister of 37 years. I had a Native American Card Reading done while I was there. I won't go into the fascinating details but it boils down to - "You're spiritually depleted."

Eureka! That was the feeling I experienced when she said that to me. Duh! Here I am working so hard on maintaining balance (while also acknowledging that there is typically something out of balance because there is always something to work on - we're never done), and I "completely forgot about my spiritual self".

How do I find it, define it and nurture it? That is the remaining question.

The definition I like best for spiritual is "showing great refinement and concern for the higher things in life". But, just as finding a website, a book, or a thought on spirituality and motherhood are nearly impossible, coming up with a definition of what spirituality truly means and how to make it active in your life is just as difficult.

Spirit, according to the dictionary on my computer, "is a vital force that characterizes someone as being alive". Certainly, you don't need to possess a concern for the higher things in life in order to have spirit within. And, what are the "higher things" that are referred to in the above definition?

In my earlier years, I read books such as The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, The Celestine Prophecy and Mutant Message. I felt they all nurtured my soul, gave me greater purpose and made me feel connected to something larger than myself. They were life-transforming, inspirational and contained messages I wanted to ring true from my own life.

Later, I read The Tao of Pooh, The Rich Man's Secret and The Alchemist. With my mouth open wide, I said "yes, this is what life is about." But, I'm not sure I can pinpoint the changes that came from reading those books.

Does there need to be a conscious transformation in order to experience growth from reading a book? And, what kind of spiritual growth does reading these books actually stimulate? I still feel a fondness toward them and a tie that connects me. I know they played an important part in my life and the development of who I am? But, who am I? Did motherhood erase all that I was? Perhaps, I should start reading them again - from the beginning.

More recently, I've read The Mother Dance and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids. I'm not sure if they've been spiritually motivating, but they have been a refreshing, entertaining and supportive look at motherhood.

So, where does the spirituality lie within motherhood? How does one connect with her inner essence while changing diapers? And, who isn't too tired to recall their ultimate purpose when dragging their toddler back to his bed for the tenth time in 23 minutes? And, how do you remain connected with something greater than yourself when your Self has been touched, prodded and poked since 5am in the morning, when your Self - in the one minute you had alone - fell asleep watching Rachael Ray on TV only to be awoken by the prodding and poking of a child who escaped from his crib, when your Self has been cooking, cleaning, driving, straightening, chasing, laundering while simultaneously making decisions for the all-important future of someone whose fate lies in your hands?

Recently, I tried standing in yoga position while doing the dishes. I ended up being the enemy in a Star Wars reenactment with my 7-year old and trying to maintain my balance while lowering my arms to fire. I also tried chanting while making my bed. But, my almost 3-year old thought I was playing a game of Air Guitar Hero and started singing "Slow Ride" louder than I could chant. Tomorrow, I was thinking about leading a guided meditation for the family. But, every time I tell my children to close their eyes and go to their happy place, they start screaming about wanting to go to Disney Land.

So, the task at hand is a hefty one - to a) define what spirituality is, b) determine how to bring it to the forefront in the everyday life of a mother, and c) build a bridge between the two.

Get ready - because we're going in - in deep.

##!!%%!!!

When a mother reaches out from a bad day, it is only another mother who can fully understand her. When she tries to describe the incidents and moments that brought her to the brink of insanity, she is incapable of helping the listener to feel what she felt in that moment. Unless, of course, the listener is another mother. In that case, the mere sound of exasperation draws out memories of similar moments.

“Oh, yes. I know those days,” she might say. She is able to recall how devastating the moments can be, how much energy they take to get through, how it takes everything she has not to lose it. She can surely empathize, but when you’re not in the moment, you can’t truly feel it. And, that’s a good thing – or the mommies in the moment would have no one to call.

I recently started writing a column for a far-reaching women’s website. I am the editor for a particular component of the site and part of my responsibilities are to participate in a forum connected to my site’s topic. It is also beneficial for me to participate in other topic’s forums.

When you enter the forums of BellaOnline, recent posts are listed in the right-hand column. Often, the topic titles sound interesting to me, and I click on them. Quite often, in the last few weeks, the titles that I have found intriguing have led me to the CF forum – that’s child-free, for those of you who don’t know.

For a while, I read the topic on “why do you WANT to have children?” and felt like a voyeur, reading the inner thoughts and outer judgments of married women who do not have children. I felt the aggravation they went through when people continuously asked them when they were going to have children or told them how selfish they were for not wanting children. Some of the posts lashed out at the child-rearing women of the world who wanted children because “that’s what you do after you get married” or “they wanted someone to be there to take care of them when they were older” or “they wanted to leave behind a legacy”.

I couldn’t take it anymore. My response went something like this: “Hi Everyone. I’m a bit nervous to be posting here. I have four children ages 7, almost 6, almost 3 and 18 months (am I scaring you already?). I just wanted to say that I do not understand the choice of not wanting children, but I do not judge it. I also think that the reasons your friends are giving you for having children sound ridiculous and shallow. Perhaps, if they thought longer, there reasons would lie a bit deeper. Then again, perhaps not. I always knew I wanted to have children. I enjoyed babysitting, working at summer camps and helping underprivileged and difficult children from an early age…. “ I went on to give my own personal reasons for wanting to be a mother and raise children. You can think of your own reasons.

I also went on to say that my experience with motherhood has been a profoundly deep spiritual journey – one that I cannot quite name in concrete terms – but that it challenges all of my weaknesses and causes me to think about my actions on a much deeper level. Because I do not have a lot of free time, I have to really think about the things that are important to me and ensure that I carve out time for them. I do not have the luxury of just going through the motions with no identified purpose or goal.

I thanked them for allowing me to be a part of the conversation and hoped that I provided them with some new insight. That conversation is STILL going on. It has gone from thanking me for sharing to complaints about mothers with children not having time to recycle (why are we recycling, the CF women say, when we don’t even have children to save the planet for), to women talking about how they have time to volunteer and give to charity and give to the community and raise stranded dogs because they do not have children and the subsequent financial responsibilities to worry about.

Is it conversation? Is it defensiveness? Do people with children really judge that CF people that harshly? From my perspective, I made up my mind to have children and I don’t really need to list the reasons why for anyone. I’m confident enough with my decision that what you think really doesn’t matter to me. Is it because I am in the majority that the situation is not difficult? Is it the same as the annoying question “trying for a girl?” that I kept getting when I was pregnant the fourth time? (we had three boys first)… If that’s the case, you come up with your smart ass comeback and be done with it “no, we’re trying for twin boys.” I didn’t feel the need to list all the reasons WHY I was not specifically trying for a girl.

All that being said, did I mention that I don’t much like being a mother today? It has been an overwhelming, stress filled, crying child makes you leave the store without buying anything, get nothing done, children bickering with each other, me just kind of standing there dumb-witted kind of day…. But I never once thought that I’d like to be child-free. I just don’t care for my job today. I’m tired. My children are driving me crazy. I’m losing my patience and not entirely happy with my reactions. But, this is life… and it’s just a bad day.

Serious Stuff

If you're looking for a good laugh (at my expense), read no further. This is serious stuff!

I am on my way back from a 7-day retreat ~ away from children, responsibilities, household tasks, phone calls, lunch making, driving to school, driving from school...etc.

I am returning to a day that begins by 5am if not sooner and "ends", hopefully, by 8pm (which just means all children are sleeping but doesn't mean it will last through the night). After 8pm comes, I finish cleaning the kitchen, folding the laundry, returning email, completing work assignments, making lunches..... if you're a mom - you understand.

Going away for a week was a gift from my husband in honor of my upcoming 40th birthday.

The desire - and subsequently - the need to get away began as December 6th (my birthday) was fast approaching, and I realized I hadn't achieved the personal goals I set out for myself... things like regular exercise, eating healthy, and losing the rest of the baby weight I've been carrying with me the last almost-seven years. I was finding it difficult to achieve my goals and was becoming increasingly desperate to succeed.

I decided to do a 5-day juice fast led by Jill Schneider, a woman who healed herself of malignant cervical cancer through fasting. The fast was taking place in Georgia - my old stomping ground from grad school days - and was a perfect setting for me.

But, I'm not writing to tell you to do a juice fast (though you should). I am writing as a mom who advocates for a mother's self care and commitment to maintaining her identity within motherhood. In my day to day life, I feel like I spend a lot of time focusing on this but my week away was....

TRANSFORMATIONAL

The second I set foot on the plane and realized I was free from obligation, entertaining, working my schedule around the needs of my children - I felt different. I had time to contemplate. As with anything, when we are in the midst of something, it is difficult to obtain a proper view. An elephant in the living room - if you were flat up against it, would it look like an elephant or a gray wall? We often don't realize what a blurry view we are getting.

I knew I needed a break. By the end of the day, I was exhausted (still am - but in a different way). I often didn't have the energy to finish my daily tasks. I didn't have the space or the vision to remember who I was, what I liked to do or what I needed to nurture my self.

So, I'm writing this post (which I'm going to abruptly end) to say that as much as I have advocated for mom self-care in the past, I am going to increase my efforts 100-fold. Because, not only have I learned that it is crucial for your sanity. I have also learned that - upon returning - you are now two weeks behind (doesn't matter how long you were gone for) on laundry, phone calls, homework, children's need, cleaning the house, talking with your husband, etc.... and that the desperate need to "get away" will return much sooner than you would have ever thought.

continuation

So, I discovered this afternoon that Aaron has the same cry when he gets hurt as he has when you know he is not really hurt but he's freaking out anyways. I discovered this when he received a blood dripping dent in his forehead after ramming it into the door knob while chasing Ilan and Isaac.

Shortly thereafter, Jeff, our swimming teacher arrived and - believe it or not - it was another cocky moment in motherhood. I was changing Ellie's diaper, waiting for him to ring the bell. I noticed poop in her shorts - how did that get there? It must have been left over from this morning. Did I mention changing a poopy diaper during my first shift? A few minutes afterwards, I still smelled something. I lifted her up, smelled her, couldn't find the source anywhere. When I got up from the floor, I noticed poop on my foot, my pants, the carpet.... I'm still not sure what happened.

When Jeff arrived, only one of three was eager to go swimming. After the first one went in the pool, the other two wanted to go in too. So, instead of taking turns like they normally do, we took advantage of the (rare) moment. I quickly put Ellie down for a nap, and she went to sleep this time. One might think a mother could have 60 minutes to catch up on dishes, dirty tables, pajamas still lying around, the laundry in the dryer - on the dryer - and waiting to go in the dryer - but, no, I played secondary lifeguard.

It was well worth the hour. To see my children - two of whom have hated the water since they were six months old - enjoying themselves was pure ecstasy. Ilan was the worst of them. He hated baths as well as the pool, and here he was going off the diving board and swimming - really swimming - to the side. Aaron was the stubborn a** who, unless he could do what he wanted - play on the raft - would cry and whine and scream for 30 minutes straight. He was diving off the side of the pool - like a leaping bat all spread out - splashing into the pool and swimming back to the stairs. Then there was Isaac, who I haven't even pushed into swimming lessons yet because I want him to enjoy the pool. He decided he wanted to swim - with Jeff - today. He was jumping off the side into Jeff's arms. He was putting his face in the water and blowing bubbles. He was playing on the stairs, having a blast. Jeff bounced back and forth between them and I bounced wherever he wasn't, running inside to get shoes for my burning feet and a camera so their Daddy could see them when he got home tonight (did I mention he is out of town?).

Swimming ended. Ellie was sleeping. Bathing suits came off, clothes went on, snacks were had. Minutes later, I decided we would take Ilan to his karate class. I put everyone in the car without their shoes on, told Ilan to get in his karate uniform and, at the last minute, woke Ellie. We went to karate, three of them staying in the car and watching a movie on the VCR my brother-in-law won at a charity auction and kindly gave to us to install in our car. Karate lasts an hour. Now, we're home. They already ate dinner (it's 5:33pm). They are playing. I am typing and Ellie is in the saucer whining because it's time for her to go to sleep.

I put Ellie down, get everyone else in pajamas, watch as they play in the bounce house that now occupies my bedroom. We bought it when Aaron was younger thinking it would help to release some of his energy. They bounce. I create a meal plan for Friday night when we always have a dinner and usually have guests. I put Isaac to sleep. Ilan and Aaron take turns on Club Penguin (moms of young children - check it out - a great website for young children www.clubpenguin.com). Ilan and Aaron go to sleep. Aaron comes out of his room to give me his worries he forgot to give me. Ilan comes out of his room to get cold, cold, very cold water. Aaron comes out to ask how many hours until morning. Ilan comes out to ask why the sun is still out if it's night time. I warm up leftovers for dinner. I'm ready for bed.

I turn around and notice the pile creeping over the edge of my sink. My dishwasher is clean and I have to unload in order to re-load. I see the shoes on the floor, the pile of swim suits and towels, the three baskets of laundry waiting to be folded, the toys spread out on my bedroom floor from the last half hour of the day (I am always amazed at how quickly a clean room can be destroyed - even when under supervision). I check the clock. I need to get some sleep before I have to wake up with Ellie.

Oooops, I hear somebody crying. Gotta go!

You Gotta Sit in the Backseat to Hear the Music & Feel the Air

I never realized how loud the music was or how gently the air blew in the back of the minivan until I had to sit there. I couldn’t hear a thing that was being said to me from up front, and the air conditioner – though blowing very loudly – was hardly blowing at all.

My children don’t always say “turn the music down” (ok, they never say turn it down – they constantly say to turn it up - and the oldest is only 4). And, it is only recently that they are able to say “I’m hot; make it colder.”

I realize that’s how the parent/child relationship exists in many arenas. Our children are often not able to verbalize (have you ever said “Use your words, Johnny”?) what they are thinking, feeling or needing. When the tantrums strike, it is our responsibility to listen, to decode and to respond appropriately.

Yelling is not a response that works. Ignoring doesn't actually fulfill their desperate need either. Getting frustrated only fuels their frustration. You are the parent. You are supposed to know these things. (“Mommies know everything”, my four year old often tells me… “but Daddies know more.”)

It is important – essential, perhaps – to speak to your children on their level. Get down on your knees and look them in the eyes. Hold them tightly when they are so deep in a tantrum, they cannot control themselves. Think about life from their perspective. Take a walk in their shoes. Set aside your own desire to rip your hair out, to yell loudly, or to tell them how stupid they are being… and respond to them while modeling patience, communication and understanding. And, if all else fails, drop to your knees and pray for it to pass quickly.

©2005 Lisa Pinkus