The Way of The Toddler

When my youngest, JJ, wakes he sits up in bed, makes some noises and waits. Usually, I am sitting on the couch reading or writing in my journal. When I walk into the bedroom, there he is sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, looking dazed and confused. I sit down on the edge of the bed, close to him, but not so close he doesn’t have to work a little to get to me. He crawls over into my arms and the connection between baby and mommy is made.

I carry him out to the couch and put him on my boob. He may drift off to sleep, he may not. One way or the other we spend a few precious moments in the morning just being with one another. He cuddles up against me and I know that this moment is the only thing he has in his world. For a few minutes, I make it my priority to make it the only thing in my world too.

It isn’t easy. I’m thinking about the book I was just reading. I’m thinking about the journaling I want to finish. I’m thinking about the other children and what they are up to. I’m thinking about breakfast. I’m thinking about the events of the day. I’m thinking about the meaning of life. I’m thinking about whatever it is my mind wants me to think about instead of just being present with my child.

What a lesson it is in life to learn how to quiet the mind and just be. My baby knows how to do it so well, but then he doesn’t have years of “stuff” filling up his brain waves. Yet, I know that I owe it to him to give him this gift of my time and my presence. The payoff is sweet. When I pay attention I am rewarded with the world’s greatest cuddle. When I get antsy and put him down, he cries in despair. Eventually I know the demands of the day will make it necessary to do the next thing on the agenda. For a few minutes, however, I can use this time with my baby to experience what is truly important and meaningful in life. I can put aside my spiritual intellectualizing in my journal and just look at the miracle in front of me.

How many times do we hear “they grow up so quickly?” We say it to ourselves, we say it to others and others say it to us. We say it because it’s true. They do grow up so quickly. My six year old tells me to go away when I want to kiss and cuddle him. He tells me he is too grown up for my displays of affection. If I cannot live in this moment with my baby, I will not be able to live in the moment when he is 18 and leaving home perhaps never to return again.

Who am I to own my children? I don’t own them. They own themselves. Even my baby owns his destiny. Right now, he cuddles me and seeks out my affections, but he won’t always. By literally forcing myself to stop and do nothing more than look at his face against my chest, I am creating the circuits for us both to live out our purpose as God intended. The appreciation of the moment is like spiritual currency that stores up and makes us rich inside.

The more I live my life appreciating each moment as it comes, the more I don’t need to hold on to later what I failed to hold on to in the moment. We hear so much about “living in the moment” in today’s spiritual and self-help literature, but what does it really mean? How does one truly implement that concept experientially so that it is more than just an intellectual understanding? One simple thing we can do is spend 5 minutes each morning just looking at the faces of our children and nothing more. Can we do even that? That is the challenge I face each morning like clockwork.

Is balance even possible when you have small children running around your feet, tugging at your pant legs? There is a reason why Jesus was a man. And Buddha. And the Dalai Lama. Correct me if I am wrong, but the best known spiritual teachers all seem to be men. How easy it must be to reach enlightenment if you don’t have little lungs screaming at you from the next room. I often think of those Tibetan monks in their mountaintop monasteries, meditating and chanting from sunup to sundown. They have it easy. I would like to see one of them come and trade places with me for a day. How much inner peace will he have retained after 12 hours of ninja fighting with a 3-year old and picking up a 1-year old for the 57-millionth time? My guess is that it would take about four weeks back at the monastery to fully recover from his one day with my three little angels.

I was not born a man. I am a woman. I am a mother. Instead of living in a monastery, I live in a world where I am bombarded on a daily basis with a thousand and one things that tell me who I should be and what I should be doing. Yet, why should my status as “mom” deny my own creative pursuits and spiritual exploration? I notice no one ever thought to paint a picture of the Virgin Mary dealing with the inevitable poopy diapers (or whatever it is they used in those days) and piles of laundry. Siddhartha Gautama’s mom has been completely lost to history. And, well, the Dalai Lama was taken away from his mom when he was 4 years old.

Am I the only mom that wonders if God exists in the stir-fry? I swear I keep looking for Him there. Just about the time I think I’ve found enlightenment in the asparagus, my glimpse of the Divine is shattered by the angry cry of my baby because I am not holding him over the hot sizzling stove. Even in the midst of dinner preparation, I long for the peace and composure I see in paintings of Jesus, meditating Buddha figurines, and photographs of the Dalai Lama. Darnit, why should I be excluded from the pursuit of inner peace traditionally reserved for nuns, monks and other occupations unencumbered by tiny feet and robust lungs?

I, for one, refuse to see my children as impediments to my search for meaning. They are central to it. My pursuit of inner peace has to take place around my three beautiful bundles of joy. My challenge as mother is to be the champion of my inner domain even when my 3-year old is dumping a bag of sesame seeds on the floor. Challenges are the stuff of enlightenment. Buttons pushed are opportunities to learn, grow and transcend shortcomings to become a better human being, living more fully her potential upon this earth. Patience is, after all, a virtue.

The hand that scribbled all over the stairs with an orange marker while I was on the phone belongs to a child who’s presence in my life dares, even demands, me to be a better person. In a nonverbal and very spiritual way, all three of my children hold a mirror up to my life. The reflection staring back at me says, “Either face up to your inner obstacles to joy or accept a life where happiness is determined by the whims of external forces.”

My desire to be at peace drives me to look inward. I don’t have to be a child psychologist to know that the attitudes I have about life are going to make a lasting impression on my children. I want those impressions to reward them with a sense of belonging not so painstakingly fought for as my own.

In the space of an hour, I can be bitten on the shoulder by a teething one year old, witness to the world’s loudest three year old tantrum over being denied a donut before dinner and told, “You are the meanest mom ever” by a six year old because I said, “No,” to his plea for a ninja pet in the drug store. Still within the space of that sixty minutes, I can be given the cuddliest baby cuddle in history, told I’m beautiful by a cherubic three year old and charmed off my feet by a six year old who has serenaded me with an air guitar love song.

Motherhood is a schizophrenic minefield of highs and lows. Jesus did not have to deal with preaching while a baby stuck his hand in his robe trying to find a boob to suck on (which is, in fact, what I am dealing with as I write this!). Would they have paid as much attention if he did? When Buddha reached enlightenment under the Banyan tree, he had the privilege to serenely meditate in silence. My form of meditation consists of sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the counter where a pile of dishes wait to be loaded into the dishwasher and closing my eyes for two minutes while my baby crawls and coos all over me and my three year old gorges on goldfish. Who knows where my six year old is – probably on the computer checking out the latest “Sunny with a Chance” episode on Nickolodean.com (we don’t have TV).

If I am going to make this “balance” thing work, I have to do it in tandem with my children and the day-to-day demands of motherhood. Just because they may seem like obstacles to my inner peace does not mean they are. It’s just that this is that part of the journey where we inhabit the same stretch of highway. Teaching kids how to navigate life’s ever changing road map isn’t easy when we are still learning how to do this “life” thing ourselves.

In my search for mastery, I am driven to cultivate within myself a fortress of peace so impenetrable that no amount of peas all over the floor can disrupt my equilibrium. That’s what I see when I look at painting of Jesus, meditating Buddha figurines and photographs of the Dalai Lama. I see men embodying a “fortress of peace.”

I have searched far and wide, read dozens of spiritual growth and self-help best sellers, seen every metaphysical movie ever made about the Law of Attraction, studied the nature of consciousness, explored the philosophies of Eastern religions, and dived into the mystical traditions of Christianity in my quest to find God in the stir-fry, the poopy diapers, the piles of laundry and all the other minutia of my complicated life as daughter, sister, wife, woman and mother.

What I have discovered after all this seeking is that the keys to inner peace were right in front of me the whole time. My children have as much to teach me as anything I ever read, saw or studied. As a mother, I have a tremendous opportunity to prepare three young men to meet the circumstances of their adulthood with courage, confidence, clarity and celebration. Children learn by example. What will my example be? Will they remember the yelling? Or will they remember a mother who loved herself enough to set some time aside each day for herself and who did things that were all her own.

Spiritual growth is having the courage to examine who we are from the inside out. It is a brave thing to honestly admit where we have failed and to fully take responsibility for all aspects of our happiness. Only then can we develop new strategies for living that serve us better.

The only challenges my baby has with balance are of the physical kind. Emotionally, he cries when he’s upset and smiles when he’s happy. He is the very picture of balance. In his little baby toes are all I ever need to know about God and the nature of enlightenment. No amount of frustration, exhaustion or exasperation can deter even one iota from the miracle of life. How grateful I am for my existence. My children are here because I am. It blows my mind it’s so amazing.

In all my reading and studying, I have never come across a spiritual teacher who talked to me from the trenches of motherhood. Even if they were parents themselves, their words of wisdom came from a perspective of hindsight. In the end, what I discovered is that while in the trenches of motherhood, my kids are my greatest spiritual teachers. All it took was a slight shift in perspective to thinking equally about what I could learn from them and what they could learn from me. That kind of balanced thinking leads to an inner sense of balance that allows one to feel at peace with the world – even when tripping over toys in the hallway or stripping the bed of sheets because your oldest had an accident.

Major world religions may have been founded on the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth and Buddha, but for me, motherhood is where it’s at. Where else are their insights about the path to inner peace and lasting happiness put to such an extreme test? Forget the monastery. Motherhood is the most spiritual path I can think of.

I have a six year old who believes in the Tooth Fairy BIG time! We entered the world of the Tooth Fairy last week when he lost his first baby tooth. He woke up, began his daily ritual of wiggling his lose front tooth and it fell out into his hand. The excited screaming from the bedroom could be heard down the block. This was by far the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him in his six years of life and certainly the most memorable to date. He ran down stairs into the kitchen, clutching his tooth in the palm of his hand, hardly able to contain his excitement (well, not really able to contain it at all).

We admired the tooth, spent a long time discussing the details of how it fell into his hands, called daddy at work, put it in a champagne glass for safe keeping, went and found the tooth fairy pillow and took a few pictures to email to grandma. Wow, it was an exciting morning! As an adult, I was in awe of his level of elation.

At various points throughout the day, he would randomly say, “I feel completely different now that I’ve lost my first tooth.” Even though we were going through the motions of our day – playing on the swing set, going to the store, watching a movie, eating dinner, bruthing teeth - his missing tooth was obviously on his mind pretty much from the moment it fell into his hand to the moment he fell asleep that night.

We had a lot of conversations about the logistical details of the Tooth Fairy visit. The who, what, when and where of the visit were discussed at length. The why, of course, was understood. He felt the first lost tooth marked his entry into the next phase of his life, a phase called “Grown-up Tooth Boy!”

The next morning when he woke up and found his $1 in his pillow, he ran downstairs with even more excitement. (What is the going rate for the Tooth Fairy these days?) He couldn’t wait to put it in his “Disneyland Fund” piggy bank. And so began Day 2 of the first lost tooth experience.

As a mother and a writer, I could not help but reflect on what I was witnessing in his excitement. The Spirit of the Tooth Fairy, which is really just the spirit of my son’s right-of-passage, taught me some valuable lessons in those two days. I never cease to be amazed at what I can learn from my kids when I stop and absorb the innate wisdom of their antics (both good and bad, I might add).

1. Even the small achievements in our growth as human beings are worth celebration.

The lost tooth was a sign that my son was growing up. He felt this and articulated it when he said, “I feel like a completely different person now that I’ve lost my first tooth.” The Tooth Fairy reminds us that each of our steps of growth and maturity in this life are causes for celebration.

2. When we acknowledge achievements in our growth, we are affirm that we have value upon this earth.

My son acknowledged that the loss of his first tooth was a special event and asked me to also make this acknowledgement. The Tooth Fairy reminds us that to acknowledge our achievements is a necessary step in recognizing that we are growing and making progress towards spiritual maturity.

3. To honor that we are making progress towards spiritual maturity, we can create ceremonies and rituals that mark these steps – no matter how small.

The tooth, the pillow and the money are all elements of a “lost tooth” ritual, which our kids love. The Tooth Fairy reminds us that these ceremonies or rituals are in place for a reason. They are public statements that we are growing towards spiritual maturity.

4. The course of our lives is one towards physical, emotional and spiritual maturity.

The loss of my son’s tooth was a sign that he was physically maturing, but it was also an emotional and spiritual step towards maturity. The Tooth Fairy reminds us that even when we stop “growing up,” we are still growing.

5. To be conscious of all the levels of our growth as human beings through acknowledgement, celebration and ceremony, is one way we can develop and deepen our self-esteem.

When we are conscious of the fact that we are continually growing even when we’ve reached our physical maturity, we are able to love and honor ourselves for the progress we are making in this life. The Tooth Fairy reminds us to love ourselves each and every step of the way.

All that from my son’s first loss tooth, his excitement and his unforgettable statement of, “I feel like a completely different person now that I’ve lost my first tooth.” What a blessing my kids are! What a blessing we all are!

I have just returned from a trip down to my parents’ house. It’s a 5-hour journey and, with 3 small children, there are many “when are we going to get theres” along the way.

Yet, how different is our children’s impatience from our own? We are all on this journey we call life. There are many goals we strive for, or journey towards, along the way. How impatient do we get when we want something RIGHT NOW? I know I get impatient. Patience is not one of my strong points. I work at it each and every day. My kids give me endless opportunities to practice patience at greater and greater depths. Oh yeah, and then there is the small matter of me having written and published a book, started up a business as a motivational speaker and am spending a great many hours these days marketing and promoting said book and business. Why am I not speaking at moms groups 7 days a week yet? Am I just a little impatient? You could say so.

We come up with brilliant ideas. We find our passion. We work towards our goals and yet forget that it’s all a learning process. Every day of my life is an opportunity to learn, to grow and to become more than I ever thought possible as a human being. Do I have goals? Yes, absolutely. Am I working towards them? Yes, every day. So why am I still so impatient?

Like the car journey to my parents house 5 hours away, I am moving in a forward direction towards my goals. And so, I can say to myself the same thing I said to my kids in the car: “We will get there when we get there.”

Patience is accepting that we WILL get to where we are going because we know we are moving forward toward that place. It does not mean I will get there today or even tomorrow, but, as long as I continue to make steps that keep me moving in a forward direction, then I will get there.

I expected the “we’ll get there when we get there” approach to work with my kids. I expected them to accept it because they had no other choice. They could not see in their mind’s eye the road that lay ahead and gauge the distance according to the mileage signs or the last city we drove through. They could not see the big picture of the journey in the same way I could, so I had to give them an answer that perhaps was not very satisfying, but it had to do.

What is different about me and my life path? Can I see the road that lay ahead or am I as ignorant as my children when it comes to how long it will take for me to “get there?” And will “there” look anything like I expected it to from this vantage point?

I am like the child who’s understanding of the world is limited and who’s view of the wider world is very narrow indeed. What can I know of my future? What can I know of the people I will meet along the way and the doors that will open as I progress down this particular road of life?

I will get there when I get there. The question I can definitively answer each and every day is: “Am I making forward movement in my life in the direction I want to go?” As long as I can consistently answer yes to that question, what have I to fear? Nothing. I don’t have to have all the answers now. I don’t have to know the exact details and timeline of the journey. It’s impossible for me to ever completely have the complete picture of my life. All I have is the narrow view of what I see and experience right in front of me. There are, however, an infinite number of things happening all around me about which I have no idea, but that could potentially change the entire course of my life forever. I simply do not know. I only know that there is so much I cannot possibly know.

Instead of obsessing about the end goad, I could enjoy the journey a bit more. I could look out the metaphorical windows and notice the scenery. I could rest assured and trust in the journey, as I feel the wheels of forward movement rotate beneath me.

My children trusted that we would arrive at grandma and grandpa’s. They were impatient to get there, but they knew that we would.

And so, my prayer today, is that I can learn something from them about my own journey. I can learn to trust that I will get wherever it is my desires are taking me. I can also learn to change the question from, “When am I going to get there?” to “Am I still moving forward?” Attempting to answer the first will only bring frustration. Answering the latter offers clarity and peace.

I choose peace.

A child’s resilience is amazing. My baby JJ (16 months now, but forever my baby) fell off the bunkbed ladder. He’s an intrepid soul. And he is obsessed with climbing up the bunk bed ladder. Turn your head for a minute and up he goes. The inevitable happened and he fell off. He cried. I held him. Two minutes later he was trying to get up it again. We blocked it with the wicker laundry basket and he is MAD!

Am I so resilient? When I get knocked down how quickly do I get back up again? The answer is 1 day. I think that’s pretty good.

Yesterday was a knocked down day. It was one of those days where I left my cell phone at home, dropped the kids off at summer camp and took myself out for some retail therapy. Luckily I still had my birthday gift cards, otherwise the “retail therapy” we’d be able to afford right now would be from the clearance bin of the dollar store.

I was hiding, pure and simple. I didn’t want anybody to know where I was until I knew where I was. What am I doing here?

The night before last I spoke at an event for the third time in one week. And for the third time in one week I was incredibly well-received. Everyone said how much they loved my talk. They loved my energy, my passion. They loved what I had to say. It was so true, so relatable, so real, so funny, so needed. Still, no book sales.

I left the event and cried all the way home. Yelled all the way home. Is it worth it? Should I just give up? I’m burning the candle at both ends between the kids, the house and the business. If everyone loves what I have to say so much, why isn’t anyone buying my book?

So I spent a day removing myself as best I could from everything and everyone. After picking up the kids from camp, we went to the park. Then I took them to Fred Meyer and put them in Playland so I could sit upstairs in Starbuck’s and look out over the store. It’s a good thinking spot.

I ended my 24 hours of contemplating the question, “What am I doing here?” with some journaling. That’s my system. And it works. Here’s a step by step breakdown for how I get back up after being knocked down. I call it Resilience 101:

1. Release your emotions.

When I get knocked down, I scream and cry for awhile.

2. Enter into a period of solitude and contemplation.

I shut myself off from the world for a day (kids don’t count) to pray, think and generally not talk to anyone unless I absolutely have to. If possible, I spend some time in a church sanctuary or some kind of place (like nature) where I can feel a closer connection to the Divine. I read something spiritually edifying that is going to give me “food” for thought.

3. Share your story with a trusted friend.

At the end of my day of solitude, I get a glass of wine, call a trusted friend and just get it all off my chest (in this case it was my cousin – she was drinking a glass of wine on the other end).

4. Insist you get a good night’s sleep.

I tucked myself into bed last night at 8:30pm and slept like a baby, even with Oliver and JJ in the bed with me.

5. Let your hand be a messenger of insights – WRITE!

I woke up early this morning and wrote in my journal to process my feelings and insights from the day before.

6. Immerse yourself in some exercise and heavy breathing.

I got some exercise so that I could experience taking deep inhalations of oxygen into my body. This, to me, is definitely a form of prayer and a key component of my spiritual practice. This morning I went jogging with JJ because I obviously couldn’t leave him home by himself. (As a side note, I will say that solitude and contemplation can be done around kids. Intention is everything.)

7. Elevate your thoughts through prayer/meditation.

In the shower, I pray and thank God for the opportunity to learn and grow.

8. Note your intentions.

Still in the shower, I state my intentions for who and what I want to be in the world.

9. Contact the outside world again.

Now I am ready to face the emails which have built up from yesterday and get on with business.

10. Enter into a new, more resilient you.

That’s it. I’m done. I’m back up. I’m clearer about what it is that I’m doing here and I face the world with renewed resilience, greater strength and a deeper sense of peace. I am grateful for the experience of being knocked down because it has brought me greater understanding.

Take another look at number 1-10 above. I used the word RESILIENCE as an acronym for these 10 steps. My intention is that it will be easier to remember that way.

Look, if JJ can fall off a bunkbed ladder and be smiling 2 minutes later, ready to do it again, I can also pick myself up when I fall down. It helps that I have a process for going from down to up. Because of what happened, I have new found clarity, I’m taking a new course of action and I understand at an even greater depth what I’m doing here.

For that, I am so very grateful. Thank you to JJ too for inspiring me to be resilient and showing me what true resilience really means.

We are all blessings.

To learn, of course. To grow, of course. To transcend limitations and evolve.

What does the tree do when it is growing under shade? It grows towards the light. Does it give up? A tree knows how to grow despite the challenges. A tree understands and lives the principles of growth. For conscious beings (that means, us humans), we can be surprisingly unconscious about the principles of growth.

1. It is in our very nature to grow – physically, emotionally and spiritually.

2. There is no question of growth.

3. How we grow depends on an infinite number of environmental factors.

4. We direct the course of our growth through our choices.

Every decision is a choice between going in the direction of love or in the direction of the absence of love. Do we ever stop to consider this? Or are we so wrapped up in our external circumstances that we do not take the time to ask in which direction our decisions are taking us?

However, the caveat is that we all too often confuse love with desire or need.

Love is:

unconditional

Self-less (or unselfish)

Honest

Pure

forgiving

Unifying

Expansive

All-encompassing

Uplifting

Constant

Peaceful

In the moment

Love is a quality of presence. Put another way, “Presence” is the domain of love. Fear cannot exist in presence. Fear can only exist when the mind is preoccupied with potential future events. When one is centered in the moment, fear cannot enter, for this is not its domain.

Love draws good towards it. Love and fear are both magnets, drawing more of itself to itself.

That is why it can be such a challenge to shift thought patterns upwards. But, again, the tree does not go from seed to mighty oak in a day. There is a process to growth and the oak knows instinctively how to be patient.

Is the task to live one’s life with integrity? What is the definition of a good life? In my dream, my sister and husband were reluctant to clean up a spare room to make it useable as a bedroom for their daughters. Instead it was full of paper, old furniture and other things they didn’t use and didn’t need. But to clean it seemed such an effort to them. They left it and their daughters slept in sleeping bags on the floor. How many of us cannot face the thought of cleaning up our own lives? And at what cost to ourselves and others?

Then there was my brother in law, who was learning how to fly a helicopter so he could get home faster and see his baby more. It was a means of getting from AtoB quickly and efficiently because he worked so hard and so late, but did not want to miss out on seeing his child grow. What tools do we have in our lives that can aid us in getting from ego to Spirit quickly and efficiently? Do we pray? Do we say an affirmation? What is our spiritual “helicopter” to take us from a focus on our biology and humanity to a connection with Spirit and our hearts?

Next, I was sitting talking to a stranger and I started to open my mouth and say something negative about my mother in law when I noticed her son sitting next to me. I felt immediately terrible at the thought of hurting her son with my cruel words and so I stopped myself. How often do we refrain from speaking badly about another? How do we know what kind of effect, either direct or indirect, such talk has? Can we see ourselves in each and every other person in our lives? What is so different about another that merits our defamation? Do they not have a soul? A Golden Angel? Guides that love them? A lineage in earthly terms full of complexities beyond our wildest imaginations? And so much more we ALL hold in common. Can we stop ourselves and realize how much we are hurting ourselves when we seek to hurt another (even if we are doing so “behind their back”)?

Then there was a communal aspect of my dream and an oven that had complicated buttons and did not get turned on properly by the person next to me in line. There was a man naked from the waste down doing stretching exercises and joining in the conversation without a second thought to his nakedness. It was an apartment complex of sorts. And a gathering, a sharing, a being together, each in our own uniqueness. Can we accept each other for who we are? Can we come together in the Spirit of nonjudgement? Can we look at another who is coompletely exposed (in a metaphorical sense) and still listen to what they have to say?

And the oven! It was a communal effort to figure it out, a group attempt to help one another toward the ultimate goal of cooking a meal to eat. Can we support each other in our individual endeavors to sustain ourselves? Each of us is “cooking” something different, but the “oven” of life is the same for us all and we need to help eachother figure it out beacuse it can appear quite a complicated beast. Some of us have a better understanding than others of its many “button” and what they all mean. That’s just because we’be been here longer and had more practice in “figuring it out.”

Next, there were some neighbors helping eachother out with babysitting. A mother needed some time to homeschool her two older children so the baby went next door. There is not one of us on this planet who does not need help at some point or another. Asking for help and giving help are both gifts. In my dream, this neighborly helping of one another was perfectly natural. Why wouldn’t the one family help the other? The overall feeling was one of mutual support. In helping another, we help ourselves. When we help another, we help sustain the community as a whole and that, indeed, helps to sustain our own position within that very community. Service is our natural state of Being.

My dream was about the Spirit of Community, about helping and supporting one another. It was about being conscious of what we say and what we do. It was about how we connect to Spirit by how we behave and conduct ourselves in the midst of our human experience and our interactions with all. God is there for us and it doesn’t take isolation in a monestary to find God (although that may be an appropriate path for some in any given lifetime). The path to God is so very much in our interactions and in our relationships. God is revealed when judgement is set aside, when we accept people (including ourselves) as we are. When we clean up our own ”houses” to make room for more love. When we share with others knowledge that we have to help make it easier for another. When we help a neighbor. When we catch our negative thoughts and do not speak them.

I have been talking to William, my oldest, about guardian angels. I believe we all have unseen spiritual guides – call them what you will – but I believe in them. William is 6 now and I have been sharing more of my spiritual beliefs with him as he is getting older. To that end, I have begun to openly talk about the guides that I know I have in my life (and believe that we all have). I call mine Arnold. There’s a reason I call him Arnold, but that’s another story.

The other day William and I were debating whether he should do his homework before going to Hollywood Video or after. William, of course, wanted to do it after and I wanted him to do it before. I’m the mom, right? What I say should be the law no matter what, right? Well, I don’t really parent that way. We are equals on this earth. There’s a bigger context to everything. We are spiritual beings having human experiences. The spiritual side of things always takes precedence in my book. To that end, I said to James that I would check in with Arnold and see what he said. That’s when I do my muscle testing. This is a form of kinesiology I do based on the teachings of Dr. David R. Hawkins. I have been studying him for several years now, have read all of his books and practice a form of individual muscle testing he describes in the Appendix of “Power vs. Force.”

I ask, “It serves the Highest Good to do such and such…” It’s really a matter of stopping, going inward and really paying attention to that “still small voice” called intuition. It serves me well. It serves me very well.

In this case, when I took a moment to get out of my ego and motherly righteousness about the whole homework thing, the message that I “got” was that it served the Highest Good to go to the video store first and then come back and do William’s homework.

The thing about the universe is that its reference of context is a whole lot larger than mine. I have learned that to trust the universe is just about the biggest favor anyone could ever do for themselves.

I told William that Arnold sided with him and that we would go to Hollywood Video and then come back and he would do his homework then. We went outside to walk to Hollywood Video and William wanted to take his scooter. It was drizzly and wet, so I said that I thought it was safer if William did not ride his scooter. I turned away to put JJ and Oliver in the double buggy. When I looked back over at William he had put the scooter down.

He said, “Mom, I checked in with Arnold and he told me not to ride my scooter.” Then he said, “Mom, Arnold’s voice is very quiet, like a whisper inside my head. When he talks to me it’s very soft.”

It was beautiful. I felt like he had reconnected with a piece of his birthright in that moment. We are all supported in this earth adventure. We forget that help is there. In that moment William reconnected to his inner compass. Have you?

JJ loves his milk. He loves his milk and he loves to eat.

Now that I’ve stopped breastfeeding, he is really guzzling milk. He’s having trouble going to sleep without guzzling a bottle of milk. The other night he had a big dinner. There were little peach chunks for desert. Then a little while later is was bed time. Down went a bottle of milk. It was a lot of food and a lot of milk in a very short space of time. I’m laying in bed on his side guzzling his milk. The lights are off. JJ is next to me in the bed (for we are a co-sleeping family) and all of a sudden I hear this huge puke. I tell James to turn on the light. We look over and there is a massive pile of vomit full of little peach chunks all over the sheets. Needless to say the next 20 minutes or so was occupied with changing the sheets and cleaning up JJ.

Wow. The spiritual lesson there? Everything in moderation! Too much of a good thing really is too much of a good thing. This is the second time JJ has overindulged and then puked everywhere. His stomach just can’t hold as much as he wants to put in there.

We’re still working on the moderation thing. Moderation is a bit like balance, isn’t it? Sometimes it can be a subtle line between moderation and overindulgence. It’s not always easy to see where one ends and the other begins until it’s too late. Sometimes it just takes a bit of practice and trial and error. We are all doing the best we can. Even JJ.

My job is to keep the “everything in moderation” motto in mind during my day and in my activities. If I am conscious of moderation in myself, my awareness of it in terms of my children will also come more naturally.

We learn so much through our kids!

For  the last 2 weeks I have been waking up at 5am for a jog and/or walk before my husband has to go to work. I arrive back at the house just before 6am, make a cup of coffee and then sit and write in my journal and read for an hour before I start the morning school routine. This plan has been semi-successful. JJ has been waking up while I am out and that means my husband is awakened. He does not like being awakened before 6am. He does not want to have to attempt to placate JJ while I am out of the house at the crack of dawn.

If JJ stirs as I am leaving and I catch it, our new deal is that I have to take JJ with me in the stroller. That happened this morning. He, of course, falls straight back asleep in the stroller as I do my walk. However, keeping him asleep in the stroller when I return at 6am is another challenge. This morning that wasn’t so successful.

In an attempt to give JJ something to keep him occupied so I could do my journal writing (which I do religiously), I gave him a chocolate egg left over from Easter. I took him up to my journal writing chair and sat him on my lap. I didn’t get a huge amount of journal writing done (it’s ok, I did it later), but I did have an incredible “ah-ha” moment.

There he was sitting on my lap, eating this delicious treat with this look of total contentment on his face. “There,” I thought, “is the look of fulfillment.”

And what were the components of that look of complete and utter fulfillment?

1. Love – he was sitting in his mommy’s lap, in a place of safety and security and warmth. It was the “seat” of love, literally and metaphorically.

2. Enjoyment – he was diggin’ that chocolate egg. Yum, yum!

3. Presence – He was present in that moment. At this stage, there is nothing but the present for him. He goes from moment to moment either loving it or hating it depending on the situation. But, whatever the case, he’s all there. Yesterday and tomorrow don’t register. 3 minutes from now doesn’t even come into the picture.

So, there you have it…

Love + Enjoyment + Presence = FULFILLMENT!

Check yourself now? Are you out of balance in any one of those 3 areas?

Love is the Spirit.

Enjoyement is the Body.

Presence is the Mind.

Mind, Body, Spirit  – It’s all connected. And when there is harmony and balance between the 3, you have fulfillment.