guidance – Soul Reflection

The Rockery

My youngest is a do-er. Any task where tools can be utilised, muscles stretched and creative energy unleashed, that’s heaven.

And it welcomes its own journey of negotiation, surrender, guidance and boundaries. Much like most areas of parenting really.

This past week we designed and created a rockery in our garden. Our ideas were not fully aligned. One of the areas of parenting I have struggled with is finding the balance between fully embracing the creative vision of my child, measured against not only my own desires, but actually more the practicality and functionality of these endeavours.

I have learned that leaning fully into their own ideas has so often just led to crushing disappointment as they cannot yet manifest in practical terms. This has its own gifts, and disappointment is not something to shy away from. Counterbalanced by the knowledge that with a little guidance these ideas can create the most glorious of lessons, skills and confidence. The cherry on the top is also respecting my own visions, to model holding my boundaries and not allowing the ego of child to believe themselves too worldly, too early. And then of course there is surrender….

All this in just a few days of moving rocks, planting flowers and scattering stones. All of this everyday as a parent.

When to guide, when to step back and allow, when to stand strong, when to surrender to flow.

These are life lessons for me but the painful edge is that it can feel huge that I am this influencer of principles to real, live humans who are still growing and forming and absorbing it all. The pressure can feel utterly overwhelming until I remember that I’m just human too, that we chose each other from the stars and love is love the world over after all.

So to all you mama’s and papa’s agonising over the most recent battle, the lost moment, the unsaid apology, the what if; I want to offer the words that I comfort myself with.

My work is their work, my lessons are theirs. We are intertwined for this very reason, for this moment in time, for this day of chaos, for this hour of hilarity. All of it is and all of it isn’t. Everything is just as it should be.

Love Hope Faith and Grace.

#parenting #childhood #boundaries #surrender #joy #love #hope #faith #grace #negotiation #guidance #influencer #humans #lessons #asitshouldbe

First Written on Social Media 27 March 2021

The Empathy Trap

It is always hard to write a blog where I have to reflect on my mistakes as a parent. My ego screams to keep it silent but my spirit yearns to share and offer it of service to others. A mighty battle within.

My parenting philosophy is deeply embedded with the principle of empathy; of feeling and understanding my children’s perspective, in order that I can help guide them and support them through their journey.

I still think this is deeply important.

Yet I have discovered a trap in this idealised path… something that harms rather than helps my children on their journeys. It has been particularly highlighted by one child whom has a fight reaction tendency when misunderstood. When they have lashed out I have nearly always seen and understood the route to that explosion. I have watched and witnessed the unfolding of communication crashes and mix ups. And so I have helped explain that to others. I have spoken their feelings and shown how and why they have reached melt down. I did this to model to them how to verbalise their frustrations and recognise their own triggers.

And it has worked. They can verbalise and can recognise but they can also excuse themselves. ‘I hit because they annoyed me.’

And I have explained that excuses are not ok, there is no justification for violence unless in defence of life and soul. But they keep coming. These excuses. By fully empathising I have taught that there is some implicit permission in their reaction, I have fed this attitude of vindication.

So I have reflected. I have looked out into the world at the excuses and demands for empathy being thrown out constantly in society; I have looked within at the balance of compassion and discipline triggers from my past and I realise that on this honourable path of affinity I have let resilience slide.

Because resilience is a key tool for life. Resilience is the ability to carry on in the face of all adversity, including that of being misunderstood.

When I look out into the world and see the screams and cries of so many begging to be understood, to be re-labelled, re-defined and then crumbling and collapsing when others don’t want to, don’t have to, don’t like to; there I see a dearth of resilience. It is not for us to demand someone’s understanding, it is for us to know that we are still enough without it.

So now I have some work to do. My children are thankfully young and resilient enough to flow with my mistakes; we learn together. I hope the rest of the world can too.

Not Wrong, Just Different.

I have previously touched on the principle of requiring a circle, or village, of relationships to fulfil our needs. The idea that just one or two people should or are able to hold and carry the multifarious requirements of one full lifetime of human experience is perhaps the crux of many problems.

In fact this principle has become such an obsession that the trend on social forums is to instruct each other on how to respond or be responsive towards each other. There are plentiful descriptions about ‘how to be a good friend/partner/parent/boss’ with minute instructions on what makes you good or bad; pass or fail….

But what this neglects to take into account is the principle of difference. That we are all wonderfully, uniquely varied in our gifts, attributes, strengths and, naturally, weaknesses and flaws too.

One of the most resonate compliments that my husband gives to me is that I am someone who always believes there is a way through; that there is a solution somewhere, somehow. And I do. I really believe nothing is insolvable, more deeply on an emotional level but practically too! So whilst I have realised that rescuing and saving people is dis-empowering (okay, I still do it as a sideline occasionally!), I am a great person to come to if you need some ideas, some guidance about what options might be out there to help you on your journey. If you don’t want any of that, if you want just to be heard in total silence and reverence… I might not be the best fit for the job. But here’s the critical point… that doesn’t make me wrong. I am not going to be Jack of all Trades, good at everything, nor do I want to be. I want to be really good at things that come naturally and instinctively to me, I want to hone my skills and work towards mastery.

So what happens if you are in need of someone who is not going to even think of voicing a solution but is killing the strong and silent thang… then find that person.

Create the circle, create your own village.

I have one friend who talks nineteen to the dozen, I can barely get a word in edgewise and she is not someone that I am going to go to when I really need and want to be heard about soulful shit! But I adore her company, she is light and engaging and kind and funny and zingy and all sorts of wondrousness…… she is very much a part of my circle and I need that energy in my life. Imagine if everyone in my life was an intense as me?! Insanity!

Now imagine if I made her wrong for being that way… imagine if I said to her ‘you never really listen to me’, ‘I don’t think you are being sensitive to my needs’, ‘please could you reflect back to me my words so that I really know you have heard me’…. I believe it would crush her and it would certainly crush our friendship. I would be trying to mould her into something that really doesn’t fit in her skin, trying to create her into something else whereas I could simply be accepting and enjoying all the gifts that she does bring.

Of course this doesn’t mean we can’t ask for what we need, consider each other’s perspectives and feelings and reflect on our own behaviour, but within that there is a place to see whether our specific needs of the moment are going to be best met and by whom. I once asked a friend, who had gone silent on my for 6 weeks, that if next time she was pissed with me she could just tell me about it rather than hit the mute button; she told me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn’t ask her to change or be different. Fair enough, she was not going to meet my needs or requirements in that side of our friendship. That was actually a deal breaker for me, I do need my circle to be upfront and clear about when I’ve done something to upset them, and I chose to walk away from that friendship for that reason, but that wasn’t about making either of us wrong, just that we weren’t a good fit.

I used to ask too much of my husband (perhaps still do!) under this principle of ‘he who must be able to support every which side of me’… until I realised what absurdity this truly was. I started to widen my circle and increase the array and variety of friendships, mentors and crazys who help all my facets sparkle as I hope I do in return. And with this choice, there is the potential to free my husband from feeling like somehow he is failing me, or not enough for me, and instead allows his own highlights to shimmer.

I would love to see this embracing of each other’s gifts and strengths replacing the homogenising pressure that social media is trying to instil through shame directed memes and articles. Yes, walk away from those who don’t support you, whilst being careful not to dismiss those that might not be what you need for right now yet their gifts and skills might be everything to you come tomorrow, the new moon or the new decade. We are all personally responsible for seeking out our own joy, friendship and healing rather than insisting it is performed for us by the demands we set on others. Let each of us shine and glorify each other and celebrate the magical complexities of human nature. We are not wrong, we are just different.

Our Achilles

Yesterday, I watched the podcast between Russell Brand and Brene Brown and loved it, of course.

Totally my thing, discussions on vulnerability and spirituality, boundaries of steel and the state of our global society. Meaningful, heartfelt, humourous and enlightening.

I was nodding happily along to it all right up until the last five minutes when Russell asked Brene’s advice on parenting. And then I was thrown.

I was thrown, not only because Brene’s advice was so contrary to my own views (and that is totally ok btw, this is not a judgement conversation) but because her philosophy to parenting seemed so opposed to the rest of her OWN philosophy.

Let me extrapolate, my understanding of her work on vulnerability and shame can also be looked at through the lens of control. Vulnerability being the release of control and shame protection being all about control. And yet here I was hearing Brene recommend what she called ‘choice parenting’ or Choice Theory. The principle of which is to give the children a choice to make… the basic premise being to continue with their ‘unacceptable’ behaviour and face a consequence OR stop.

Again, I want to hold this discussion without judgement but as a musing of ideas.

I frequently use choice with my kids but with certain differences. Occasionally I use it because something is non negotiable usually to do with physical or emotional safety. More often than not I use it to get my own way, for example ‘please close your mouth whilst your eating or I will have to take away your ice cream’. This is control.

I know it, I recognise it and I really really try not to do it because ultimately I am inflicting my utterly subjective values on someone else. Another important element to this principle is age appropriateness and development, what age are children able to understand and rationalise choice? When I heard Brene discuss constructive choice offers with wayward teens, there may still be background (and necessary?) control but I get that it can create immediate mediation and lead to thoughtful discussions. However when suggesting offering a choice to a tantrum-ing 2/3 year old – calm down or we leave the restaurant, I baulk. That is not a choice a small person can make fairly nor is it in anyway modelling vulnerability.

With the very best of intentions, work and graft, I moderate my feelings to be thoughtful and kind but when I get utterly overwhelmed by life’s happenings they sometime go awry. Sometimes I lose my temper, sometimes I’m just a bit grouchy and snappy. I have ‘a choice’ in how I express these yet frequently my thinking choice is retrospective, it comes after the event (I blame my Italian ancestry and Scorpio birth alignment – I maybe just a touch fiery at times!). When my feelings overwhelm me, I make a point of reflecting on them, being vulnerable about their root cause and making amends. Because I’m human and flawed and that’s ok.

Now if I, as a fully qualified and fairly reasonable adult, have moments of overwhelm, what can we expect of our little ones? Sure they may need to be taken out of a restaurant for a cuddle and calm down, to help them re centre and restore their spirit, but isn’t the ‘choice’ of removing them permanently, as a consequence of being totally vulnerable, not only punishing and shaming but also almost impossible for them to process?!?

Do you feel the contradiction like I do?

But this isn’t about making Brene wrong because she and I are both making parenting choices from our very best intentions despite our differences. It’s about our Achilles Heel.

It about the fact that we all have one; we can be so utterly clever and kind and wise and human and also make choices that contradict ourselves, are incongruent, flawed and bizarre.

I didn’t come away from this podcast thinking less of Brene (although I did yearn to speak to Russell about my perspective too!), I actually came away thinking more of her. She became more relatable and more real to me and absolutely more attainable as a vision for myself.

I don’t have any academic qualifications (zip, nada, none) so I am easily cowed to believe that I have nothing to validate my viewpoint or opinion, despite instinctively feeling that actually I have some cool things to share.

Watching the podcast yesterday reminded me that it’s not about the degrees and letters after the name but simply about the conversation, Achilles and all.

So let’s keep talking…

The Phoenix Decade

It has started. The Phoenix Decade.

Our 40’s are a time typified by the clichéd ‘midlife crisis’: fast cars, affairs, career change, divorce and unexpected death.

Sadly, our society seems to sneer and judge a lot of these changes rather than embrace this as a natural life transition and of course that judgement comes from the fear of ‘us’ and ‘them’, separating the shadow and placing it in someone else’s court. But the truth is, our 40’s are the time for our spiritual renaissance.

Biologically, most of us will be coming to the end of the early years of parenting, the dance of mating and conception taking up so much of our 20’s and 30’s. And with those elements ‘in the bag’, there opens up a space in our lives to observe ourselves in greater depth. Our children and loved ones will be offering mirrors to the darkest parts of our souls through their triggers and button pushing and it is here that we have the greatest opportunity to dig out the roots of our deepest wounds and raise them up into the light.

This is the decade of philosophical thinking, of reflecting back on our own upbringing, how we might do things similarly or differently; exploring the aggrievements that have entrenched reactions and personality traits that may no longer serve us into true maturity and adulthood. It is the golden ticket for change and transformation, to allow your past to die and your renewed and invigorated self to rise from the ashes.

As I look around my peers, I am seeing sickness that is shaking souls to their very cores – cancers, strokes, depression; I am seeing relationships flounder and stumble with what appear to be unbridgeable chasms of disconnect; I am seeing denial where materialistic choices are covering the voids of love and connection. For me these are all symbolic gifts to face the Phoenix.

For myself I know I was close to great sickness. The levels of stress and discordance that I was carrying in relation to my mother were putting a burden upon my system that was unsustainable. Despite my healthy lifestyle, organic nutrition and conscious living, I could still feel the poison of unhappiness in my body. I had early warning signs singing through my nervous system, twinges, aches, pains, exhaustion. That was why it was so necessary for me to face that relationship head on and take the space I needed from it. I could have sat in the dynamic continuing our mutual unspoken discomfort and pain, I could have pretended it didn’t really exist, it wasn’t surely that important, but I didn’t want to die. And that was what that choice felt to me, that my body could no longer carry such a consistently high level of stress, something would eventually crumble.

So I am walking into this decade of the Phoenix with my eyes wide open. I want to face the shadows that will twist and turn out of the ashes; I want to address what needs to be explored. My husband and I will look into the fragile places of our love and relationship and dig out the dirt and attempt to replace it with light. I will stare into the mirror of my children and try my best to listen to their messages of reflection, to own what is mine and to return what is theirs. I don’t imagine that this decade is going to be my easiest, moreover because I am also having to witness my dear friends as they uncover their own phoenixes and the joy and suffering that that can bring. But I am also full of the excitement and possibility that this decade of renewal offers. I am excited to release the shackles of my past and to step fully present (with the best of my intention) into the second half of my life.

I will rise out of the ashes and I will soar.

Role Models

I am sensitive to the role models that pass through my children’s lives. Not for the obvious reasons, I care less about their differing values to mine (as long as they’re not morally corrupt!) in fact I enjoy my children being exposed to different view points and exciting their curiosity and questioning, but I mind greatly about their consistency in our lives.

I know I can’t control where life takes us and friends pass through over the years and that itself is a great lesson for my children, but there is still a place for acknowledging the importance of each role model and their influence.

I speak from a place of loss. I speak from a place of sensitivity to those moments where an adult left my childhood world without word or explanation.

Growing up, the role of father was a gaping hole in my life, my own being emotionally incapable of filling it. Later in life, my early choice of boyfriends certainly reflected my desire for a father figure before therapy and personal development moved me beyond it. But in my childhood itself, certain men stepped forward to offer themselves as a surrogate; family friends, my mother’s boyfriend, uncles, many spoke directly to me, acknowledging the gap and asking permission to represent a father to me.

Every single one left me.

Not a single one remains in my life as a guide or elder. This is not a pity party, I have beautiful support around me now, but at the moments of their leaving, I grieved a loss every time, alone and unacknowledged. Each one just disappeared from my life, sometimes out of loyalty to my mother; sometimes out of separation from my mother; others, I project, because I was too challenging or difficult for their perspective, but for whatever reason they felt no need to say goodbye. And that hurt beyond measure.

So for my children, I ask, when life takes you away from us, when our paths diverge, please just take a moment to say farewell.