T.G.I.F.* (*Freedom Day)

Dear Friends,

I wish I could record and share with you Paige's "gargly-crabby voice."

Phonetically, I guess it would look something like this: "Grrrr-owwlll, grrrr-aaaaghhh, woooooo, ssssttttpp, grrrr-AAAHHHHH!"

I couldn't have said it better myself.

I've been gone the past five evenings, what with Encore business, directing class, rehearsals for It's A Wonderful Life, Reiki training, and an unschooling advocacy teleseminar. All good stuff, and yes, I've been gone a lot, so Paige is missing me.

She is expressing her disappointment, sadness, and longing in the best way she can: with growls, grunts, howls, and yelps. And her whole body is involved in self-expression. If she were in an acting class, the teacher would declare her "Brilliant!"

And, of course, she is. Paige in her fourth year is the purest, blessedly least domesticated of our family, and she is perfection in spirit. I learn from her every day ways to return to my truest, undomesticated, authentic self.

So, if you ask me how I feel on the eve of Ben's final day in the 9 to 5 corporate world (dubbed Freedom Day by us), my response is: "Grrrr--owwwlll, arrrrgggghhhhh, bbbblllaaaggg, ssssfffftttzzz, mmmmm-rrrrr-AAAAAAHHHHHH! GAH-GAH-Grrrrr-AHHHHHHHHH!"

I miss him so much. I yearn for him. I am grieving, howling, angry, desperate, unbridled longing, furious, sad, and AAAAGGGHHHH!

See, mere words cannot quite express how I feel.

You might expect it would be all cheerful here, you know, daisies and roses, butterflies and skipping and dancing and spinning and celebrating, but we're dealing with some grief here, too. Grieving the lost time of the past seven years apart, punctuated by evenings and weekends together, but not fully free, in the here-and-now, sharing every aspect of life. I've covered this before, so I won't get all gooey about it now. I can chalk it all up to sunk cost, and move forward.

My point is, I can feel myself letting down my guard. I am finally allowing all of the feelings I've been keeping at bay: fatigue, rust-out (see my recent post Connecting the Dots), impatience, sadness, anger. I am releasing the sheer energy it takes to hold it all together and muster through another day that is not free until we are all free.

So here it is, our family's Freedom Day. What will I do first with this new-found freedom? Draw? Bake? Organize? Catch up on phone calls? Catch up on sleep?? Maybe I'll just affix myself to Ben's shoulder koala bear-style and hang out there for a few weeks. To connect with and absorb his essence. Mmmmmmmm....

The release of energy heretofore used for surviving shall now be used for thriving. I proclaim it.

Our concrete plans include completing the studio (paint, carpet, arranging, organizing), so I can start teaching lessons again; recreating the family bed; sorting through and allowing our hearts to direct Ben's web-based business prospects; budgeting (good-bye pizza, hello home-prepared dehydrated nuts and veggies); and yes, celebrating!

There might be some growling and howling, some working through and expressing and releasing and grieving and accepting what is, what has been and what will be....and at the end of it all, we will have just this moment, in the present to rejoice and be glad and live and love.

Together. Isn't that the point?

love,
Carrie

Befriending Your Fears, Part I

Dear Friends,

I am beginning to befriend my fears.

I no longer fear my fears. I do not allow them power over me. This post is the beginning of sharing with you my process of overcoming my (diminishing) fear of germs and illness. My fear was borne of trauma when Paige was four weeks old.

I want to share with you a response I wrote to a local unschooling friend online, when she asked other families for advice about preventing illnesses:

Hello! I'm sorry you aren't feeling well! I know what a drag that is! 

For us, Cold Calm has been a miraculous help for symptom relief and for eliminating the cold in 1-2 days. It's homeopathic, and available at CVS. I became a lot more confident and relaxed about trying to prevent colds, once I knew I had this surefire antidote, if necessary! 

As for prevention, for me it was an intentional shift in my focus. When Paige was a baby, she caught a cold, which turned into pneumonia, which freaked me out because I was afraid she would die. This incident sparked a fear of germs for me. 

During the next two winters, I was determined to prevent any viruses or other illnesses from reaching our family. We washed hands, used Purell, disinfected shopping carts (and I mean thoroughly), minimized going out, avoided having people over, and required them to wash hands upon arrival if they came. I started a regimen of Vitamin C, echinacea, multi-vitamins, the whole nine yards, because I was intent on not getting sick. 

And do you care to guess what happened? 

At least one of us, if not all of us, were sick EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR OVER 100 DAYS. Both winters. It was craaaaazy! 

This past winter, I decided to change my focus. First, I realized no one died from the colds and flues in my family. Second, I experienced we could bounce back, and I always managed to scrape up enough energy to get through mine and my family's illnesses. Just barely, but I did it. And finally, I was just plain too tired and didn't have the energy to fight the flues anymore. I was done. And I let it go. 

The result? 

My recollection is we were not sick once. Not at all. If we were even once, I don't recall, and it wasn't notable. 

Once I stopped putting energy and attention on illness and attempting to prevent it, it simply was no longer a part of our lives. 

This month, the kids caught a cold on our trip to Texas. I did not freak out or overreact. My husband and I caught it, too, took Cold Calm, and it was over. No big deal.
This is a huge shift for me. Maybe I unconsciously attracted those previous viruses into our lives, just so I could be flooded with it, and know that we could survive no matter what. They lost their power over me. And I came through it feeling empowered and peaceful. 

Louise Hay has written a great deal about body ailments and using our intentions and affirmations to rid our bodies of dis-ease, and become our healthiest selves. (Her books are on amazon.)

Best wishes for a healthful, peaceful season:)

Whew! Join me in befriending our fears, rather than fearing them and giving them power over our selves and our lives. Going with the flow feels sooooo much better. Letting go of what we have no control over in the first place. Let's be each other's support for freeing our energy for creative pursuits, living and loving in the present moment, and inviting our fears to at least ride in the passenger seat. We may discover they end up in the back seat, and eventually at the side of the road. I hate to litter, but on the other hand, I think we will find the wind will blow them away, and we will actually see the fears for what they are: a mirage.

Love,
Carrie

Parenting Outside the Box

Dear Friends,

In my most recent blog post, I shared that I have been writing as a community blogger for the Dexter Patch, our local online newspaper. I was recently moved to respond to an opinion article in the Patch, in which another mom asked parents to weigh in on when they start assigning chores to their young children. Her article was entitled "Earning Your Keep."


In an attempt to bridge our apparent differences in parenting philosophies, I reached out across the divide and extended my own thoughts on the subject of not only chores, but how our family communicates and models responsibility for our selves.

When I am in my best space (parenting or otherwise), I am tuned into my intuition and flow in the direction of what resonates with joy in my heart. When I feel connected with my family members, I trust my inner voice and remain aligned with peaceful, loving, respectful co-existence. I put myself in their shoes, and ask myself, "If someone were asking me to help with chores around the house, how would I like to be asked?" 

If someone said to me, "You can't eat (or play or read or be with my friends) until I clean the sink or take out the trash, etc.," I would feel bummed and resentful. On the other hand, if someone invited me to do chores together, and it was a fun, joyful, shared activity, I expect I would feel honored, respected, and helpful. 

My husband and I intentionally put energy into the idea of "being the change you want to see." For us, this means on one level modeling the behaviors (i.e., doing chores, speaking respectfully, eating healthy foods, etc.) that we would hope to see in our children. To be honest that still feels manipulative, in the idea that if I do "x" my child will do "z." It is still based on attempting to shape another's behavior. 

On a deeper level, we actually strive to model self-responsibility. That translates into: when we see something that needs to be cleaned, we clean it. When we interact with others, we are respectful. We eat fruit and vegetables because they nourish our bodies. Our children naturally mimic what they observe. We all do. Kindness begets kindness. Responsibility begets responsibility. 

Our children's response to our actions is merely a by-product. Ultimately the only person any of us truly has control over is ourselves. And teaching our children to take responsibility and modeling kindness and living respectfully and healthily begins with us. Not to be an example, but to simply realize the depth and expanse and beauty of our own potential. 

In peace,
Carrie

Go With the Flow

Dear Friends,

Typing with one hand - do any other nursing moms out there relate? We grab our moments when we can....Such a classic....

So, last Saturday I decided to run an experiment: Let it flow. See, hidden in here is still my penchant toward controlling, well, everything. "Let." As if it were an option to stop or prevent the flow of the day. Not that I want to stop the flow. I'd prefer to direct it. 

In my more self-benevolent moments, I'd like to reframe this desire to direct as "helping." But at its heart, I know it is bossy, nagging, and manipulative. I suspect it elicits feelings of -at the very least-irritation and at its worst probably beleaguered defeat.

I'm like a border collie, but rather than exhibiting merely herding behavior, I attempt to get everyone to follow my Master Plan. 

Trouble is, my poor family, with me barking and nipping at its heels, is not being allowed to just be.  And I include myself in that group.  And oops, there it is again: "allowed." Permit, let, allow-this language reveals the mindset that I am somehow in charge, or at least trying very hard to be so.

So, here is the truth of the matter. My penchant for controlling, my desire to direct, and help, and herd, is all borne of one thing: fear. Anxiety, what-ifs, how to do it better, how to create the perfect environment for a child's growth. Aha, irony! In trying to micro-manage the members of my family and attempting to orchestrate the order of the day, I end up self-defeated. Instead of freedom, there is lock-down. In place of creativity, there is Carrie's Law of Order. Rather than empowering my husband to develop his parenting skills and explore the children's nuances, my actions undermine the natural unfolding of their relationship.

Hence, my decision to run an experiment last weekend: Let it flow. I intentionally chose that language-"Let"-so I could hang onto that familiar companion: the illusion of control.  I repeated this as my mantra throughout the day. Let it flow. Let it flow.

Here is what I discovered-or actually uncovered: There is a peacefulness underlying letting go. The very anxieties I was trying to eliminate dissolved in the process of letting go. That unreachable itch was soothed when I stopped trying to scratch. The border collie was at rest.

Before making this "aha" discovery, though, I was frankly astonished by the numerous, the bountiful, the sheer multitude of times I stopped myself from jumping in and directing my family's interactions and reminded myself: Let it flow. I am so vigilant and committed to creating a certain ideal living environment, that I can more easily understand why I'm just so incredibly exhausted at the end of every day. Managing  all of the behaviors and communications is too much work, and it's not working.

Okay. So, after catching myself about a hundred times, I stopped stubbornly trying to hold back the river's flow with my two bare hands. And something happened. Without my conscious choice, my mantra changed over several hours. To my surprise, it had become "Go with the flow." I could barely remember starting with "Let...." It just changed. I changed. Without nipping, cajoling, barking, pushing, herding, meddling or suggesting. It simply happened when I let go and just flowed.

And guess what? The world still turned, the day unfolded, the river flowed, and the sheep enjoyed a full day of open, self-directed grazing and bonding.  My heart was filled with more love than ever for my family, and more compassion for myself.