alone?

I’ve been thinking about loneliness lately, or more precisely, the word:  alone. It’s been on my mind because every day, across the world there are people sitting at their computers and typing A..L..O..N..E.. into google. I know this because it takes them here, to this blog. Sometimes the search term comes up as:

yapayalnız

or

وحدى

or

одиночество

and, I follow these exotic looking words to pages that translate them for me, and they all mean the same thing: loneliness or alone.

So many of us feel so alone.

So I’ve been thinking, when do I feel alone? When have I felt alone?

I felt alone when I first moved here, to a very northern part of my country, to the very northern part of the town, in the middle of winter, and I didn’t know anybody. I spent entire days walking the streets wondering where everyone else was going, wondering what everyone else was doing. One day I ordered a latte and when the cafe worker called out my name, to announce the readiness of the beverage, I almost cried because it was the first time I had heard my name said out loud in so long.

I feel alone now when I notice that I do not feel alone. I am in the middle of my tiny and bustling kitchen with children underfoot and I feel a part of something, which immediately, and infuriatingly, makes me think of what would happen to me if these family members suddenly were not in my life and how lonely I would be then.

I feel alone in the middle of the night when I am the only adult awake and I harumph and grumble so that Nathan might be woken too and I will not feel alone anymore.

I myself have written a post here on this blog that assures you, and me, that we are not alone, that we can meet here in this cyberspot and be together. But what if the truth is, we really are alone? What if we try and try to fuse ourselves together through sex, and marriage, and cults, and book clubs, and blogs, but it doesn’t work and we still go to bed each night feeling alone, not melded?

I have read that this is what this time on earth is designed for. To be separate. To feel what that is like. To learn something from that separation, from reaching across the divide, and then fold back into the Tao, the flow, the light, the heavens with greater experience and knowledge. Perhaps we come from a place that is infinite, and light, and embracing, and somehow we know this, we miss it, and we want to get back to it.

It is a mere consolation I know, but as I look at the blog stats and see so many of us searching the term “alone”, I realize that the one thing that we do not do alone is feel alone. We share that. You are not standing apart, cold, miserable and alone, while the rest of the world is full of happy, laughing folks, toasty warm and huddled together. This scene does not exist, this is only what you tell yourself. We are each alone in a happy crowd as much as on an isolated mountaintop. Aloneness is part and parcel of being human, and no one is without it in some form or another.

If it is a naturally occurring feeling, just like any other, then perhaps we can feel it just like any other. Simply feel it. See it, notice it, honor it, and that’s it. We don’t analyze ourselves when we are feeling happy. We do not give ourselves a hard time with that emotion, so why do so with loneliness? Perhaps experiencing it completely instead, is the only way back to that light and embracing place we know we came from. Or if not that profound, perhaps experiencing loneliness will allow us, at the very least, to move on to other feelings as soon as we are ready to feel those.

And, if we all feel alone, then I guess I will restate my earlier claim that, in this way, you are not really alone. You aren’t. And if you want a place where having that feeling is okay and without shame, then you have found it.

Welcome.

life as you dream it

I’ve been blue lately. Grey, taupe, you name it, pretty much down in the dumps. There have been some blips on the radar of delight or amusement, but the baseline has been low. Unable to see any light at the end of the tunnel, I kept sinking deeper and deeper. Alone in my thoughts, blinded by dissatisfaction.

Then nursing Echo to sleep a couple nights ago, frustrated, I thought to myself….what do I even want! By the time Echo was snoring I had a perfect image in my head, what I wanted for our house, for our business, for Nathan’s career, for the long winters, for the girls, for Feeleez. I immediately sat down and drew a precise map of all the elements.

THIS WAS LIFE CHANGING.

Suddenly, because I could see it illustrated so simply, it became simple. It feels attainable. It is attainable. I see it and now I can have it, or move toward it, or manifest it with my thoughts. My life is already more what I want because I can now see it that way.

I have energy. I am laughing. I am less hungry. I feel fantastic.

I am offering to do a drawing for you too. Tell me what you want and I will draw it for you.

Start by entering the giveaway at NPC, or write me and I’ll get started.

example for Mark and Christina.

i feel… fortunate

We have somewhere we go, a lot. It’s somewhere to be that isn’t our house, and isn’t our freezing cold yard. It’s also somewhere we can just be, and our kids can be too. It’s a narrow cafe in the back of an herb shop, and it is always packed to the gills with regulars. We eat bagels, drink tea, and more tea. People watch, eavesdrop, table hop.

Our girls have quite literally grown up here. Their comfort level is such that they join others at their booths for conversation, comic reading, drawing, or chess games. Sometimes our family is mixed into three separate tables, as each finds their interest of the day.

I have complained about these long winters (and they are), this small isolated town (comparatively speaking it is). But the winters drive us indoors to this warm place, and the smallness means we are familiar with most people we meet.

It is a heart blossoming feeling to watch a child run into the arms of a tattooed, lip/ear/cheek/ pierced twenty something, or into the arms of a sixty something artist, or into the arms of a forty something clairvoyant, arms she has known her whole life.

They know her.

This is fortune.

 

empathy delivery

Let’s all pretend for a moment…

We’re getting together for tea today. We rode our bikes. See mine (or yours) up above? Yes isn’t it a lovely day? We certainly are not staring bleery eyed at a computer screen, no siree. And we are not pressed for time. And we are not concerned about anything. Nope. We live in a quaint, sunny place (all year round), and we are surrounded by loved ones. Today is the day we all gather together, share good food, listen to each other’s stories, and offer empathy to one another. Let’s imagine these bits of empathy scattered throughout our blissful day.

I hereby deliver a platter of empathy to any and all:

• that are fed up with sickness, quarantine, puking, and sniffles.
• that did not buy the groceries they prefer to buy, due to a tighter than comfortable budget.
• that feel stuck.
• that do not want to leave their children with someone else in order to work a part-time, minimum wage , job.
• that have the November blues.
• that see a break-up on the horizon.
• that share their children.
• that have a vision for their lives that isn’t matching their current situation.
• that could seriously use some new clothes.
• that feel they have changed and want others to notice.
• that want things to move faster than they are.
• that want to move their body a lot more than they are currently able.

Oh, I am so glad we did this. What a beautiful day. We really should do this more often. Next weekend? Works for me. You should bring a friend! I think I’ll serve chocolate fondue next time, or maybe peach-raspberry pie.

newbies

Well Xi returned today and guess what that means? More spoon puppets! She loves the three Echo and I made, so we just HAD to make a few more.

We added a grandma, grandpa, and dad.

Grandma is so cute.

oh perspective… you tricky beast

Xi and I sat on either side of a table today looking at the cell phone I use. It was facing toward me.

Xi said: Nallie, that looks wrong! It’s upside down.

I said, to demonstrate the concept: No, it’s right.

Then we spun it around and she said: Now it’s right.

I said: If I see wrong and you see right, is there really any plain old right or wrong?

She said: Nope. Only right for me, or right for you. Or wrong for me, or wrong for you. It just depends on who’s looking at it.

Aaah. Perspective.

Well now I’ll leap to the topic currently on my mind: co-parenting. I’m not talking about the kind of parenting that two parents do under the same roof. I’m talking about when two parents split up, and continue to parent “together”, while living under two different roofs.

Our family, as I’ve mentioned before, is a modern one. There is one papa, three girls, three mothers, and three different homes. So let’s just illustrate this more clearly, that is at least four distinct perspectives. If you add in our best friends, parents, or boyfriends, the number of perspectives concerning these girls can feel overwhelming.

The tricky thing about parenting everybody, for me, is that my own opinion feels right no matter how much intellectual distance I manage to achieve. I do an exercise demonstrating perspective with Xi in the morning, but by the evening lose track of that very concept, and find myself shaking my head wondering why the other parent is making the completely wrong choice.

Okay, no one is right or wrong. Perhaps the other parent is making the choices that feel absolutely right for them. I very stubbornly make room for this to be true. But I still have feelings about it.

This is how I currently feel about recent moves by a co-parent:

frustrated, annoyed, mad, irritated, sad, appalled, unsettled, displeased, tired, guarded, and troubled.

This is how I feel about these beautiful girls:

open hearted, tender, sympathetic, enchanted, amazed, thankful, tickled, pleased, trusting, and loving.

With these feelings on one hand and the other feelings on the other hand, it sure is tempting to turn on the fierceness of a mama tiger and just….. just do what? That’s the kicker.

I guess I will continue to revisit perspective exercises and use them not just on cell phones, but on my own life. I’ll use them even when all the data stacks up on my side, and even when my emotions are yanking me toward a sense of righteousness.

Oh, and empathy of course. For me, for them, for Nathan, and for the girls.

it doesn’t have to be difficult

Echo and I went to the park today. It was balmy considering this is the middle of November. It was sunny and beautiful. We arrived just as school was letting out at a nearby elementary school and I braced myself for an onslaught of kids and parents. And, as law of attraction would have it, the onslaught did ensue. I was so distracted by the many parent to kid interactions.

One dad tagged his not-so-fast boy in a game of tag:

Tag, you’re it!

Dad! No, I’m not playing!

Oh ho ho! A poorsport! Yes you are it!

I would do a quick empathic do-over in my mind:

Tag, you’re it!

Dad! No, I’m not playing!

Oh you didn’t like being tagged? Yeah tag can be tricky because it is set up for one person to be “it” and the rest to run and try to get away. Being “it” doesn’t seem fun to you? Well do you want to change how we play it? Is the running part fun? We could play a running game…

A little girl called out to her mom:

Mom! Look at me!

Careful Ella!

I got up here all by myself!

Careful Ella, you’re really high. You could really crack your head good if you fell from up there.

Another empathic do-over in my mind:

Mom! Look at me!

Wow Ella! I see you!

I got up here all by myself!

Woah. How does that feel? Can I spot you so that you can climb up there and still stay safe?

I couldn’t help myself from noticing their every action, or reaction, and it didn’t feel good. I’d dread a negative interaction and then, sure enough, witness a negative interaction.

Then I looked over at Echo, bucking happily on a metal bouncy “horse”. She was wearing the same outfit as yesterday, had the same matted hair as yesterday, and was having the time of her life. She wasn’t stuck in her head. She wasn’t obsessing over parenting practices. She was enjoying the sun. She was simply happy.

I realized it could be as simple as that. I could simply be at the park with my girl. I could feel the sunshine on my back. I could listen to her merry chatter. I could be around other parents and not be bothered, not mentally splice empathy into their every sentence.

With these new eyes I caught glimpses of the other parents now and then. That tag playing dad was really sweet and attentive. He was at their side as soon as his children needed him. His boy twisted his back somehow and the dad gave him a thorough and loving back rub until he felt better. That mom that was shouting careful! so much, played a rip roaring game of freeze tag with her girls. She had A LOT of energy and wasn’t just letting her kids play at the park, she was really playing with them.

I can anticipate lovely interactions and witness those too. And those lovely interactions aren’t as distracting. I was able to hear Echo’s merry chatter more clearly.

Here Mama, here is your seat, over here in this bay area. Now we’ve arrived at Ukelele!

Which is definitely worth it.

not just dinner

 

Our kids aren’t the only ones learning things around here lately. It turns out…I LIKE MAKING THINGS!  Not just dinner.

This really should not surprise me. I have a degree in art and have been a long time creator of many things, yet I am surprised. I am blissed out after making something, anything.

Today Echo and I watched a vintage episode of Mr. Rogers. What a sweet man, loving all those television children for so many years. The show we watched was about puppets, and at one point Mr. Rogers goes into his “kitchen” and digs around for a plastic spoon. He drew a simple smiley face, taped on a wrinkly sprig of ribbon to the head, tied another bit of ribbon to the neck, and viola!

And I thought to myself from the yoga mat (I try to sneak in a couple down dogs any time there is a video on): we have plastic spoons! I realize I have been crippling myself, thinking that so many things need to change before I can be a happy, creative person. Crazy thoughts like: If I had a studio then I could do some painting.Or, if I had the money to go wild at the art store then the kids and I could make some crafts. Meanwhile life goes slipping by without the joy of painting or crafting. So darn silly.

We dug out those plastic spoons from deep within the silverware drawer and got to work. And oh how I love these little puppets! Echo named them Carwash (mom), Rosie (kid), and Cook (papa). My whole day was sunnier because of these awkward plastic beings. Snowmen, Hamster Heaven, it doesn’t matter, if I make something, I feel better.

the name game continues

Yesterday Echo asked if she could spell some names with magnets. We helped her by calling out which letters came next in Echo, Mom, Papa, and Xideka. She enjoyed seeing the names all lined up and then pretty quickly scrambled the letters all over the place. Tonight I glanced up while cooking dinner and she had reassembled them as best she could.

It’s amazing how strong the desire to learn is. You never know what a kid is absorbing or when exactly they are absorbing it. These letter magnets have been around our house forever and only now do they stand out as something of interest to Echo. It turns out, making names is fun for her. Perhaps if we parents can just get enough out of the way, if we can stop ourselves from distracting her with our evaluations or even enthusiasm, Echo will continue to think of spelling as a game just like any other.

swallow one unbirthday celebration and call me in the morning

Oh those greys. Grey skies, grey thoughts, grey mood. The dismal view calls to me, like something that feels good in a not so good way. My mind is turned, lured over. My brow furrows. My patience runs and hides under the bed.

I say no to everything. Mama, can I paint? No.

And kids never say: oh I can see you’re having a hard time. I’ll just go into my room and play quietly by myself for awhile. I’ll give you some space. Instead they say: Well if we can’t paint can we at least do papier mache?

That’s how my day was going and I was all set to resist everything and flow with nothing when Echo said: Mom can today be my birthday? and I felt a collective DING! ring throughout the house. UNBIRTHDAYS FOR EVERYONE! That sweet little request and a candle stuck into a corn muffin, effectively shifted my stubborn, masochistic mind, around. Thank god.

We sang to ourselves, we made wishes, and we didn’t stop there.

We found a party dress…

We took a wild unbirthday ride around the carousel…

We ate unbirthday sugar…

We hosted an unbirthday dance party… (sorry photos not available as all unbirthday folks were busy cutting a rug)…

And then, as the final proof that the greys had officially left the building, I willingly tore the entire living room apart, even moving furniture, to come up with the best game EVER: Hamster Heaven.

Tunnels, hidden treats, obstacles, blankies crammed into every crack and crevice to prevent escape. I don’t know who was happier the hamster or the girls.

I even promised to leave it all assembled until the next day. So, because the couch is a crucial part of the structure, Nathan and I, after the girls were asleep, ended up watching our movie within Hamster Heaven.

A very happy unbirthday was had by all. The cure for a grey day? You never can tell.