hmmmm...

Time is a created thing. To say 'I don't have time,' is like saying, 'I don't want to.'
— Lao-Tzu

da beavs

I just returned from the beavers annual weekend "up nort". I am part of a group of women who are willing to love each other. The kind of love I mean is the kind that creates a place for you to feel safe and free to be yourself without reservation or fear of rejection or criticism or anything bad. I suppose, ideally, that that place should be in your family. Like that really happens. But even with the little mishaps and irritations that all groups encounter, in the end, we all chose to make the connection to and acceptance of each other more important than anything else.

So what did I do? I ate well, slept well, laughed until it hurt. I listened to a 97-year-old grandma named Yaya have a phone conversation with her 39-year-old granddaughter. Yaya called her "sweetie" and was so excited to hear that she had just learned how to knit. They ended the call in greek love words that made me cry. I heard of plans and choices for making life better that will make things rough for awhile and I was impressed by the bravery and resolve there. I heard about physical problems that sobered my thoughts and gave me perspective. I saw the letting go of problems and burdens and the unleashed joy that launched in its' place. I saw some crazy-ass pole dancing that is hard to describe. And someone discovered it's easy to knit when you're drunk. Who knew? I watched a man lock eyes with his wife of eight years and play "their song" on his violin with the tenderest notes of love I have ever heard. A second marriage for both, five kids between them and several 'grands', too. The way they looked at each other - the way he loved her with his music - it was indescribably moving. Is there anything better than love? The weekend ends with no magical resolutions to the problems you had before, but there is a change in how you feel about yourself and your life. Not an earth-shattering change, but more like knowing that if you get up in the night and it's really dark, the night lite will be there for you.

one more thing

Yesterday at work, the person that trained me in on a database asked for my help with the same database. Damn, that felt good. I'm going to keep that in my pocket for a long time. And I'm going to stop writing only about my kids on this blog. Stay tuned.

there and back again

I offered my sniffing-snotting James some medicine to dry up his nose so he could get some sleep. Peetie chimed in with, "But then his boogers will be all dry and he'll eat 'em!" "No", said James. "I don't like the crunchy ones." As they discussed the relative textures of boogers, I realized I hadn't blogged in a long time.

Camp Songs

I've been teaching the boys camp songs from my childhood camp. We had just finished "The Little Man", (about one meatball and suicide - a great children's ditty) and as the boys lay in their beds I began to sing a song called "I Want to be Strong". James leaped out of bed as I sang, " I want to be strong, to be strong as the land around me", he flexed his biceps, puffed up his chest and stretched up on his tiptoes. " I want a heart that's as wide as the sky!", he held out his arms as wide as they would go, brought them in to rub his heart and back out they went. "I want a spirit like a moving mountain stream!", he flailed about, arms swinging, body twirling. "I want to look people straight in the eye!" , he put his hands on his hips and fixed me with a serious wide-eyed glare (alternating with a Clint Eastwood-type squint). Now usually when I sing songs like this I get the eye-rolling-please-stop-singing response. I was stunned to see my son so inspired by the words of this song that he was compelled to grasp the meaning and shout it to the world with every part of his body that would comply. When we finished the song his face was flushed, his eyes sparkled and he was breathing deeply. I helped him into bed and asked him, "You know what's cool about mountain streams?" "No", he said. "They always find a way to keep flowing - whether there is a rock or a tree or a cliff, they always find a way to keep going - they never quit." " I quit", he said. "No way!", I blasted back, "I won't let you quit anything!" He had rolled toward the wall and it was clear he didn't want to talk. I gave him a kiss and went over to Peetie to say goodnight.

It's too easy to get caught up in daily life and end up oblivious to the powerful events and elements that are right there in front of me. James' response to the song brought home a sound reminder to me that the healing I am seeking for him is not limited to nor hidden in some complex labyrinth of doctors, therapists and reference books; it is right where we are, in what we're doing, and it has no limits.

James couldn't sleep

We were snuggling on the bed
Staring at the flame on the oil lamp
Blowing at it
Naming the colors in the flame
James told me that prayers can ride up the smoke from the flame; that the words are spiral lines floating up to heaven. He said he had tried to pray but it didn’t work. His voice was sad. I asked him what didn’t work – was it the words or how he was feeling that didn’t work.
Both, he said.
Then, James talked about a cartoon that has dudes for each of the elements: fire, water, wind and earth – Shaolin (sp?) Showdown, I think.
We talked about how three of the elements can put out a fire. He held up his hand with four fingers out and said, once you understand the four elements, you get the fifth one.
What is that?
It’s the mystery.
You mean, like magic?
Yeah.
What would you pray for, I asked.
To change my circle of life he said.
What does that mean?
To change me. To have a better life.
You are perfect and your better life is already here.
No answer.
I love you, James.
I know.

Finley

Peetie has a new blow-up dolphin he got at the State Fair. He named him Finley (sp?). I asked him why he named him Finley. He carefully touched each fin on his dolphin then widened his eyes, leaned forward and said, "See all the fins?" Instead of contemplating (again) his mother's obvious stupidity, he showed me how he taught Finley to tap dance on his tail fin. It was a darn good dance.