Tug

I walked into the bathroom to have a shower and faced a magnifying glass that had disguised itself as a mirror. I considered my curly greying hair on my wrinkled freckled face. I thought about the time they first made an appearance and how I pondered whether I should comply with the societal trend of dying them or allow them to flow with the rhythm of the years. 

I believed that we are in a constant tug-of-war with the pressures of what I call "the norm". In this game, I believed that there will always be a winner and a loser. The more one team dug their heels into the dirt, the more the other side pulled.

There have been occasions when I felt myself prepare for a battle before the trumpets sounded. But that battle was usually in my head. 

Nearly a year ago, I decided to stop dying my hair. I thought that I needed to reach the center line ahead of time; thinking that "the norm" would never be ready to give in. So I dug my heels into the ground imagining that I was going to have to battle hard and battle good. I was ready for a fight!

After a few weeks of this mental tug and prepping for an understanding, I realized that the battle was won from the start; neither team had wanted to fight. So following a short discussion with questions and answers, the teams forfeited amicably.

 That is why a tug-of understanding is a better game where we can have two winners. An outcome, I find more appealing. Two winners; where both sides meet at the center line based on mutual respect and not on weight or strength. 

So now... I get to keep my hair grey and straighten it from time to time if I wanted to. 

The Spool Within Us

Photo courtesy of: Christine Chevrier

       My husband and I enjoyed an impromptu conversation this evening about our family tapestry and us. It required some intense self-reflection and mindfulness. We, as other parents, are many times swept by the fun, interesting and often eye-opening drift of our children. They capture our thinking, emotions and imagination and then imprison our hearts, cup our ears and lock our eyes leaving little time for us to remember our connection or ourselves.

     Therefore, having this rare attention on our relationship this evening was welcomed. The kids were enjoying a moment together, connecting as siblings; over a "Netflix" episode and we had nothing that needed our full attention except our own. 

     Seeking a connection with anyone is not as easy or quick as constructing and then demolishing a peanut butter sandwich within five minutes of the jars leaving the security of our fridge. Seeking a connection involves a variety of supplies, diverse fabrics and multicolored threads. It involves task analysis just after a thought enters your mind and just before your ego or fears take over your willingness to reach-out . And yet, despite the excitement of it all, we often neglect ourselves in the whole process. We forget where that circular tapestry of life, stemmed from to begin with; the center. 

     Though we would like to believe that many of the delays that pop up along the way of our connection flight is either due to issues such as other delayed flights or weather conditions, it is usually due to the weight of the luggage we carry onto the cabin with us.

     We may choose the wrong thread or start off on the wrong square then try to hide the defects, but the truth will eventually surface. It will whisper that our connection tapestry will look misshapen from the very moment we start stitching if we never dealt with the spool and the knots on our thread.

Loving Them as Them

Every now and then, I wonder if I had done enough or given enough or loved enough or been kind enough. Every moment passes, I wonder if I am doing or saying things right or messing things up for my kids. Am I being a good role model? Am I showing my true self, and apologizing if my ego took over? And usually, I reflect on my day and my interactions with them.

But when my head hits the pillow after releasing the kids to enjoy their Dream World, I think about how I enjoy them as people. 

Tonight, was a night that confirmed this. It started off with me worrying about my son and daughter's relationship with each other and ended with me feeling blessed that I have a connection with them and that they truly have feelings for each other. 

The threads started to weave when I noticed that my youngest had some pent up emotions. She is usually good at wearing her stage mask but this evening, I could see through the cracks in the paint. She was trying hard to cover them up by pretending that all was ok. 

After denying a few times, she divulged. Her brother was being a teenager when she wants him to play with her as he did before. 

I could tell that there was an opaque screen preventing them from deciphering the jumbled reactions, subtle jabs and murky words. I could not leave it to the both of them to unravel the knots in their tapestry when they were just amateurs in the ways and patterns of adult communication; the ability to speak and analyze feelings, to learn and appreciate vulnerability and accept, never deny, the responsibility for the actions shown and the words thrown. 

It takes practice communicating in a way that shows respect and kindness towards the other. I could not leave them alone to figure it out when they were older and had already formed judgements about each other. I felt a responsibility to plant and to water so that afterwards, I can enjoy the harvest. 

They decided to end our session with them snuggling on the same bed together watching a movie. 

I enjoyed that parenting moment and realized how much I love my kids as people and not only because I am their mother or because they are my children. I realized that I laugh a lot harder when I am with them. They are entertaining, crazy, smart and kind people and I am blessed that we are able to communicate in order to be more acquainted, aware and awakened.