Tag: kids

The Zahir

Paulo Coehlo is probably the most significant inspiration for the creation of my writing passion. I adore reading across genre but Coehlo’s work has always spoken directly to me, not always comfortably but necessarily, and how he imparts wisdom and induces questioning is what I aspire to in my own work. 

The Zahir is no exception. It has come to me twice, desperate to be read, waiting patiently to rise to the top of my pile. And here I am, with the spiritual space (bar the near constant requests from the kids!) on our first overseas holiday, after two years of guarding and protecting our freedoms, where I can breathe those anxieties away and reflect on what needs shifting within. 

Coehlo’s characters manage to exemplify those portals into my being which I simultaneously yearn and reject. This book looks at how we carry love through our lives, how we let it stagnate, dwindle or die in ourselves and our relationships, and it pulled me up sharp on numerous occasions. 

I have, by choice, let go of so much of what sparked my soul whilst the dive into parenting set me alive in different ways. But I recognise now that the time has come to rejuvenate those embers, remember who I am outside of meals and school runs and hugs and awe. I want my children to see me alive in ALL ways, I want to model that for them but most of all I need to do that for myself. 

In my mid twenties, pre marriage, pre kids, I can remember so clearly those moments of absolute connection to divine love; holding wide the doors of new opportunities & adventures and recognising the signs and messages from God. 

That has never fully left me, but so many layers of extra have piled on top, most wonderful but plenty unnecessary and stifling too. The Zahir has reminded me of everything important and everything unimportant wrapped up in disguise. 

Love is everything. Letting it flow through me unhampered, just as a baby without a lifetime of stories hindering the energy, that is my focus. Not an overnight transformation but a post-it on my forehead for the rest of my days. 

First published on social media on 23rd August 2022

WTF

So last week I had one of those ‘what the f*** just happened’ moments. The sort when I think everyone’s on the same page and getting on happily and then I get smacked in the face by someone’s reaction and am sent reeling into next month.

And, in typical style, I have been reflecting on it….

So as a very quick précis, my child and their best friend had a minor falling out, nothing out of the ordinary for their age and stage. My child was feeling vulnerable and upset about the situation so I asked the other mum if we could meet before school to resolve it all before facing the day ahead. No biggie. Or so I thought….

My child started to speak to the friend but was so overcome by upset they burst into tears and asked for my help. I checked in with the friend to see if they knew what it was all about and before either of us could speak another word the mother interrupted, shooed her child away and angrily stated ‘she wasn’t having this’!

SMACK!

What the f*** just happened? Weren’t we all just gently and kindly trying to help the kids work things out?

The mother went on to state that she didn’t want her child ‘put on the spot’; that they could ‘figure it all out at school’; that I ‘shouldn’t be involved’ (facepalm!); and it went on. I goldfished for a few moments before fury hit me, my child was by this point sobbing with distress that peace hadn’t been made before school started. Honestly, whatever the perception and judgement on my way of doing things versus theirs, what left me speechless was the total lack of compassion towards another small human being. I simply cannot imagine seeing a little one (mine or anyone else’s) in such distress and refusing to help. What has happened to compassion?

So that is what I’ve been reflecting on. I am still feeling totally rageful towards the other parent but that is my journey to process and release over the coming days and weeks. And for me to find compassion for her – oh the irony!

But actually I think there is a deeper and bigger issue at stake. I believe, in general, the population are feeling pretty disempowered, taking charge of their own lives seems to be becoming a foreign concept. This feels deeply frightening and ultimately dangerous.

What I saw in this dynamic and in other recent moments has been a lack of personal responsibility, not out of malaise, but, more insidiously, out of habit. This is how our recent generations have and are being trained throughout their childhood, to pass the buck of responsibility. This litigation culture means that it’s always someone else’s fault and there is inevitably someone who can resolve the issue for them, be it teachers, parents, police, the lawyers, the government. And by always passing the buck, there is never an opportunity to learn how to handle and resolve conflict before it becomes overkill. When I brought my child to that conversation it was not only a space for them to express their fears and worries on the friendship but also perhaps to hear some hard words in return; maybe the friend was annoyed, maybe my child had done something to upset them, but there is no shame in facing our shadows and deciding how to integrate that into our psyche.

The constant avoidance of these moments not only creates this desperate place of disempowerment, where our own strength to face discomfort and challenge is never experienced and therefore not integrated fully into our beings, but with that comes this lack of compassion that I witnessed. The fear of conflict overrode natural human kindness and actually created a greater and uglier conflict than was necessary. That’s what fear is like, powerful, pervasive and ultimately distressing. In this scenario it was so strong that the other mother believed I had no right to be involved in the situation, a reflection perhaps of her feelings, if she hasn’t the power to face conflict calmly, why should I be allowed to carry it? Disempowerment demanding further disempowerment to justify their own.

Urgh, it feels like a big ugly tangle of disallowed feelings and suppressed strength. In venting conversation with my friends, I questioned ‘what happened to just having a conversation about it?’ Have we really reached a point in our society where the gloss veneer is all that is permitted?

Dark and difficult conversations are so vital to understanding the complexities of existence and humanity. Please let’s keep exploring them, it is only fear that makes them truly unpleasant.