cats wild

  Miguel gently laughed at me when I suggested that the cats here needed to be fixed.  In his 65 plus years, he had seen many people like me bringing their city ideas out to the farm.  There was no discussion, no explanation of why no, Kari, there won’t be any cats traveling to the vet for surgery.  There was just time.  Time gave me the experience of observing cats in the wild to learn about the creatures they are meant to be.  That’s what my heart has always longed for, its part of what makes me Kari.  I want to see the original.  Show me the way things are without any human influence.  I guess that’s part of what called me here to this place, this farm.  That’s how I feel about how I came to live here on this piece of earth.  I was called.  And I listened.  Miguel’s mother lived here for over 30 years and she transitioned away from her physical body just a few months prior to my first visit.  She found me and guided me here as part of the community that would continue her sanctuary work.  Jane could also see that this place would heal me and that I was worth saving.  So was her son, he was worth saving and she knew the two of us would save each other, support each other’s crazy ideas and work out the pain that was stifling our individual creativity and brilliance.  

Cats were one of the first undoings I experienced here.  There would be many along the way, with many more still to come, but the gentle, loving Universe began deconstructing me with cats.  It seems obvious now, as I sit here having survived many of the undoings.  From my beginning, cats have been a part of the life that needed to be undone.  There are cats in my baby pictures, cats in my first apartment away from home.  Cats have always been in my life and my life has always been in a town, deeply entrenched in human culture, very far from the original, the way things are without any human influence.  That’s why I was never fully human before I came here, I wasn’t living my bliss yet.  Humans need to live their bliss, which means they need to listen to their own unique heart, discover their unusual, specific bliss, and then follow it.  That’s the simplest explanation of how I came to live in this wild place.  Layers of socialization were peeled away until I began to hear my true heart louder than all the noise that had held my attention for so long.  Hearing my true heart felt like truth and honesty and I began to listen.  Listening felt like swimming in the ocean, freedom and vastness of space and wild.  Listening to my true heart led me here to this wild place where more and more layers would be peeled away, revealing clear, beautiful music that was as new to me as it was ancient and familiar.  This place began my undoing or re-birth, my heart revealing, with cats.

Wild cats.  That’s what was happening.  Just like everything else here, the trees and plants, the swamp and all its frogs, birds, and turtles, the night air with all the creatures calling, the wild, original earth.  Wild, original earth and her wild cats.  In this place, cats hunt.  A young girl struggling with the wild cat project recently asked me if there was enough prey to support all the cats that had been dumped off.  Yes, dear friend, yes.  Abundance is mother’s way and this piece of earth is allowed to function in mother’s natural way so Yes, she supplies abundant frogs, crickets, cicadas, baby snakes, birds, toads, and anything a kitty would want to eat.  Observing cats in this wild environment provided me with the confidence to speak to her clearly, to answer her thoughtful questions, and to radiate the truth that calmed her own experience of being undone.  That’s what happens to people sometimes when they come to visit.  A piece of them gets undone and they either fight or relax and allow a layer to be peeled away, revealing their humanness, opening up a space for their unique light to shine just a bit more brilliantly than it could before coming here.  

Doula kitty arrived early on in my time here.  Black and white short hair, sweetest cat you’d ever find, she appeared one day and stayed five years.  Ivy the dog had just left her physical form when Doula kitty joined our strange little family.  In the mornings she walked with us down the lane to get the cows just like Ivy had always done.  There were already a few cats here and Doula fit in nicely, drinking milk in the mornings at the kitty pan in the milk house.  Her life was a gift, a clear demonstration of how cats can exist and thrive on planet earth.  Doula was friendly and I spent hours sitting on the front porch holding her and petting her while her motor purred lusciously in my ear.  She prepared me to be a mother as I intently observed her mama behavior with the kittens she brought forth every year.  Doula eagerly drank milk from the cows and never received any food from the humans here.  I always just assumed she had come here from the herd of black and white cats that lived among the houses near the church about a mile and a half away.  Seemed things got a little crowded down there and we had been blessed by this wonderful creature choosing to share space with us, drink milk, hunt, and provide us with kittens.  There had never been store bought cat food available here but Doula came here and stayed.  She was a wild cat.   

    Brillo chose to live here as determinedly as any creature.  He was a striking animal, all grey short hair, built like any healthy wild Cheetah and comfortable enough around humans to drink milk from the kitty pan and purr in my lap on the front porch.  When a friend looking for a male cat accepted Brillo, I was shocked when the cat was back at the kitty pan a few mornings after his 6 mile car ride.  Brillo clearly did as he pleased and what pleased him was to live in this place.  That's a wild cat.  He came and went for many years, gracing the milk house for a t

Another friend just dumped me.  I felt surprised.  I was eagerly anticipating the difficult but meaningful conversation we would have about a kitten she got from my farm.  So the computer message she sent me came as a real shock.  There was no kind, open discussion, seeking to understand another's perspective.  She was just done.  And it feels so good to be ok.  I guess she wasn't a friend like I had imagined.  

    Cats.  

    I want wild cats on my farm.  I love cats.  There have been cats in my life since I was a baby. When I went out on my own I got a pet cat from the shelter.  Then another.  I've always had cats.  I love cats.  I'm not a real dog person, I'm a cat person.  

    Living in the little yellow house in a city brought Sweet Pea into my life.  She was the oldest cat at the shelter and I adopted her because I wanted to give her a chance.  I didn't need a cat to live a long time and I wanted to free a cat from the shelter, offer her a home.  My plan was to just adopt another old cat when Sweet Pea died as I knew she would.  Animals die.  So I wanted to give her a nice loving home for the relatively short time she had left.  Sweet Pea was beautiful, with all black long hair.  We were great friends.  

    A housemate came into my and Sweet Pea's lives and left behind her kitty Arbor.  Arbor was also a great cat and I loved him.  Then somebody started peeing on my bath towels in the linen closet.  I felt inspired to put the cats outside.  I felt certain that God had invented cats before humans began living in houses with linen closets.  I knew the cats would be fine outside.  My backyard became an episode of National Geographic as I wandered over to see what was happening to Sweet Pea as she let out a tremendous growl.  Half eaten mouse.  Sweet Pea, my tired old, fixed house cat had caught a mouse and was supplementing her diet of the expensive organic, mostly meat dry cat food that I fed her.  Very good.  The cat seemed really happy, fulfilled and I was happy for her.  I wanted her out of the cage she was in at the shelter so she could live a happy cat life.  I felt confident that Sweet Pea knew best what

a home for the child

  Riding our bikes home from church two Sundays ago, mateo stated his desire to stop and visit with Kelvin.  I remember feeling totally open that day, lighthearted, and it sounded like a great idea.  It also felt good because I had been sort of imagining asking Kelvin to drive me to the car fix-it place to pick up my truck that was all fixed up and ready to come home.  I love the feeling of clarity and when mateo suggests something that fits so well with my as of yet, unspoken ideas, the clarity and organization from the Universe feels so obvious and soothing.  Its easy to just relax and see how I really am just taken care of.  Steering our bikes into Kelvin’s driveway, we rolled past the house to the big barn in back and found Kelvin in his workshop, happy to see us both.  These after church visits have been happening for a few years and its always pleasant to visit with our kind, generous neighbor Kelvin.  He’s jolly, tells a good story, and is straight forward and honest, which feels like sweet relief to me.  He talks to mateo like the intelligent capable being that he is and I appreciate my child spending time with this man who enjoys using tools and wood to create beautiful spaces and useful things.  Kelvin is always showing us the latest project he’s working on and sharing what he has planned next for the latest load of old, salvaged wood he found.  His enjoyment of this work is obvious and so pleasant to be around.  

The truck came up easily in casual conversation and Kelvin offered to drive us down to get it later that same day.  He also asked about the buildings on the South side of the road, what we were planning to do with those because he’s passionate about restoring old structures and curious about things in his immediate environment.  I explained that those mostly sat empty but sometimes housed visiting laborers, also that those were on miguel’s property so weren’t really of concern to me.  Then is seemed natural to share my desire of creating a primitive living structure on the property I own, in the pasture by the woods where I had constructed a fenced yard.  I told him about all the different ideas I’ve had over the past two years, from the camper that’s there now, to the geodesic dome, the metal shipping container tiny house, and relocating an existing structure from the East field.  Kelvin got all intense and interested when I mentioned an old building that needed to be restored and started asking lots of questions.  It was a fun conversation and he offered to stop by our place sometime to walk around and take a look at the building and the yard by the woods.  Mateo and I rolled away on our bikes with plans to stop by the next day when Kelvin’s grandkids would be visiting from Wisconsin.  

We did ride down again and mateo enjoyed a ride in the “dune buggy” and jumping on the big trampoline with our neighbor’s grandchildren.  I love that we live on a country dirt road and can ride bikes to visit with our neighbors.  What a fun way for mateo to grow up.  

The following Sunday mateo again suggested stopping at Kelvin’s and we found him again in the back barn workshop.  I visited with Lyda while mateo and Kelvin went to get a cold beverage like they’ve done together before.  I enjoy how some people make a point to involve mateo and offer simple routines that create a satisfying sense of belonging.  We enjoyed another pleasant visit and made a plan for Kelvin to visit.   The next morning at first light, about an hour before milking time, Kelvin and I set out on a farm tour.  He looked at the pig building and the big old grey barn where the cows spend the winter.  It felt so good to hear his clear, generous knowledge of original construction techniques and current state of condition.  I know how to dress a burn wound, milk a cow, and make butter but I don’t know much about maintaining buildings.  I do know how to connect to the infinite Source of energy and allow into my life the people that can help balance out the responsibilities in my life.  I don’t need to know the skills to do everything that needs to be done on a farm.  I can do the things that I’m good at, learn some new skills along the way, and allow the Universe to deliver friends and neighbors to take care of what needs to be done to live a safe, comfortable life.  As I listened to Kelvin clearly describe his obvious, generous knowledge of original construction techniques and current state of repair, I rested in the pure knowing that the Universe was holding me in loving arms.  Developing a relationship with a neighbor is pleasant and allows the Universe to take care of me well.  I am functioning as a cooperative component to my own life.

    That day Kelvin and I talked about my desire for a primitive living structure near the woods my mind switched gears dramatically between buildings that I know are "not my property" and the strong, long established emotional connection I have with the building in the East field.  When I moved to the farm in 2011 that building, call it the cabin, was present in the East field.  It called to me immediately with its leaded glass window, beautiful new roof, small, cozy size, and large, abundant windows.  The potential in the cabin was clear to me.  I have always loved old houses that want to be fixed up.  From my earliest memories as a little girl, to present day, a structure like the cabin rests easily in the loving arms of my heart.  The cabin in the East field seemed sad about its location.  It sits teetering on the edge of a very steep hill, along the West side of an unfortunately narrow pasture, which shares a property line with neighbors that spray chemicals, spread smelly manure and keep animals in a way that causes them to call and call in their distress.  The cabin was not at ease there, which made me love it and feel attached to it even more.  It needed help to really shine and my old-house-loving heart wanted deeply to bring this particular structure home someday somehow.  

    Looking back at that conversation with Kelvin I can now clearly see another reason my brain compartmentalized buildings and property the way it did.  When I moved to the farm in 2011, none of the property was "mine" and I never thought a thing about it.  I was living there and laboring and that was enough.  I owned a house in Ann Arbor and never considered owning farm land.  Over the years, I considered purchasing land when my father offered to buy me a piece of property.  There is a real nice 40 acre piece just East of my partner's land on the South side of the road.  I met the owners and found out the plan for that piece of property.  If I did own land, I imagined a piece that would make my partner's 400 acre piece that much larger.  

    Immune to Narcissist

I found a video on you-tube that resonates deeply.

    I live with and farm with a human that is great in many ways and also behaves in ways that many people refer to as Narcissist.

    I don't take his narcissistic verbal spewing personally.  I've stopped being confused.  I am no longer full of self doubt.  I rarely ruminate about what he says and does.  

I am confident and self assured in my own abilities.  I am clear on what I know and clear on what I don't know.  I do things that I love.  I'm a farmer.   I love my lifestyle, my work and my hobbies.

I don't take it personally.  Yep, he's an absolute jerk, a pain in the neck.  That's on him, it has nothing to do with me.  So even when miguel is saying mean, gaslighting, invalidating, outlandish things I can just shrug and not make it my problem.  

I can hold on well to my reality.  Even when he gaslights, I can say ok, that's your version, I got a version and we can agree to disagree.  

I am able to set and maintain boundaries.  I know when to quit.  I have an uncanny ability to know when to say no and to stick by my boundary.  

I haven't been thinking of miguel as a narcissist until recently.  And I've only used that term to validate my own experience, to learn about what I am living with, so I can do it better.   There's an equanimity to people who are immune to narcissists.    (Mental calmness, composure, and evenness of temper, especially in a difficult situation.)   I can get along with most people and I don't let others get me down.   

I have a tough backstory, my dad was a serious narcissist and my mother is full of fear and criticism.  

I don't fight pointless battles, I don't personalize, and I don't let myself be abused anymore.  

I know that he is totally not self aware and I am able to point the behavior out as problematic.  I don't try to change the narcissist anymore.  I understand that he won't change.  I've made the decision to stay here on this farm.  Yes he has hit me about 5 separate times.  I never lost consciousness.  I chose to see my own part in it and also recognize that he could have made different choices rather than punching me in the face.  I accept that this is how he is.  

I engage in self preservation.  I have developed a sold psychological core and ego to do the things that make me happy, to find the good stuff around me, even when miguel is making a mess out of everything.  I set boundaries.  I stopped sleeping with him.  I started going out on dates.  I never hug him or touch him.  I rarely speak to him about anything that I would speak to a friend about, I don't share my heart.  I step away, but not from an anguish, grief-stricken position.  Just from a position of acceptance.  

I am not afraid.  Let him make a fuss, he looks ridiculous.

I know when to cut my losses.  I haven't gone full no contact.  I live with the guy.  

I don't derive any of my self worth from him, anymore.  I'm not trauma bonded to him.  I don't feel the need to master him or tame him.  I am good with myself, because of my intimate relationship with God.  

I am good at engaging in the decompressing and self care that narcissistic relationships require.  I know my limits.  I recognize exhaustion and I attend to it.  I acknowledge that my relationship with miguel is not healthy, but not from a place of being shredded and soul crushed by him, but from a circumspect place. (unwilling to take risks)   I am not going to waste my time and energy on him.  

I am kind to myself.  Allowing other people to behave as they do and know it has nothing to do with me.  I live the life I love, I do things I enjoy.  I cultivate my sense of self and gave up on the expectations that other people dictate to me about life.  Freedom.  That's what I have claimed.  

I have developed into one of these rare Unicorns. I have lived with m, the narcissist, for 10 years and what you so clearly describe in this video is what I have become. Intentionally. M and I farm together. Both our names are on the deed to 120 acres, so as you say, I am doing what I love. I found my bliss at 45 years old. I am a farmer. And that means living with m, in the same house, same kitchen, hand milk cows every morning together. I am awesome! I used to be trauma bonded to him, it was bad. I have left a few times but I love this lifestyle, my hobbies are my work, I'm a farmer. Last time I tried to leave, the "Covid shutdown" happened in spring of 2020. OK, global "pandemic", I guess I'll stay, and continue my spiritual evolution. With much intentional, daily, moment to moment practice, I do all the things that you said: I engage in self preservation.  I have developed a solid psychological core and ego to do the things that make me happy, to find the good stuff around me, even when m is making a mess out of everything.  I set boundaries.  I stopped sleeping with him.  I started going out on dates.  I never hug him or touch hm. I engage in self preservation.   I don't share my heart.  I step away, but not from an anguish, grief-stricken position.  Just from a position of acceptance.  I am not afraid.  I haven't gone full no contact.  I live with the guy.  

I don't derive any of my self worth from him, anymore.   I don't feel the need to master him or tame him.  I am good with myself, because of my intimate relationship with God.  

I am good at engaging in the decompressing and self care that narcissistic relationships require.  I know my limits.  I recognize exhaustion and I attend to it. 

I am kind to myself.  I live the life I love, I do things I enjoy.  I cultivate my sense of self and gave up on the expectations that other people dictate to me about life.  Freedom.  That's what I have claimed.    I am floating in appreciation for your clear, specific video.  I knew I was doing something amazing and it feels AWESOME to have some language describing what I've done.  thank you so much, love, kari  

Racism

Living here in the middle of a community of people that participate in a cult, I have experienced what felt like racism.  They are not a race, they are a culture, but it felt like what people call racism.  I don’t believe in race anyway so the term does fit my experience.

I felt racist towards them.

    They all dress the same, have the same hair style, and drive the same vehicle so its impossible to tell them apart.  Occasionally, as I have stood in my yard, one of them will roll by and yell something aggressive at me and the children on my front porch.  It feels really uncomfortable to have someone yell as they pass my house.  I feel powerless because I cannot tell who it was, there is no way to identify the individual.  So I just hated them all.  Even the friendly ones that roll by and wave, I felt hate.  Just the sound of their vehicle would produce the body response that comes from being yelled at.  Tight chest, shallow breathing, I am afraid, I feel I need to defend myself against the whole lot of them.  Maybe its just been the same two or three individuals from the community that have been yelling, I have no way of knowing.  But I know that when I saw any of them I felt hate and fear and defensiveness.  A few people in their community have behaved aggressively towards me and I felt aggression towards all of them, each of them, as a group.  

I imagine that is what people mean when they say racism.  Somebody had what they interpret as a bad experience with another person.  The bad experience was with a person that is easily identifiable due to their skin color being different than the majority of humans around that particular neighborhood.  So the person with the majority skin color starts to hate all the people with the different skin color, just because they had a bad experience with one person of that color.  That’s what happened to me.  I get it.  Its not cool, its not ok, but I get it.  

It was just easier to hate all these people that cruise up and down the road past my house.  Feeling vulnerable due to the actions of a few was numbed by hating all of them.  I did not want to feel vulnerable, so I felt aggressive and defensive against all of them.  That was the easiest thing to do.  It made me feel safe.  They could not hurt me if I already hated them.  They could not reach me if I had already pushed them away.  I wanted control.  Hating the whole community gave me what felt like control. This was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

      I recognize that I am a white girl who grew up in upper-middle class midwestern small white town America in the 80’s.  My life defines what people call privileged.  But I also got the liberal bug quite early, much to my father’s dismay, and railed against racism.  I loved black people, I dated Jewish guys, I was naturally attracted to anything that was outside of the typical United States culture.  My freshman year anthropology class in college made it obvious, to me, that there is no such thing as race anyway.  Racism is a stupid word.  As my spiritual beliefs and practices evolved I could feel that humans are one and Love is all there is.  

Then I moved here and started to experience exactly what I had been hearing about all these years.  I became a Racist.  I judged these people in my mind, telling horrible stories to myself about them.  I spoke poorly about them to anyone that would listen, telling and retelling the things they had done to hurt me.  I was openly rude when ever I got the chance to be, not waving or looking at them as we passed each other on the road.  I was aggressive with my vehicle towards their vehicles, not turning my brights down at night, passing as close as I could get with out hitting them.  Oh it feels awful to tell this stuff but I want to write about racism.  Its a real thing that I experienced first hand and I do not like it.  It made me feel powerful but in a superficial, vulnerable kind of way.  I prefer the genuine, solid power that comes with Love.  Thank God for Love.  It really does conquer all.

I also experienced what I think of as reverse racism.  Living in the middle of this community that dresses the same and drives the same vehicle made me stand out quite a bit.  I was the barefoot, bare arm girl that lives at the Wilson place.  Any one of them could cruise past my house and know exactly who I was even though I had never seen them and had no idea who they were.  It reminded me of what I imagine it was like for a black person to move into a white neighborhood.  All the whiteys would know who the new guy was and he would not have any idea who they were.  Its not a comfortable feeling, especially when a few of the whites might roll by and yell something aggressive.  Again, I felt vulnerable because they knew me and I did not know them.  I stuck out and they blended in together.  

None of it is right, none of it is ok.  I am just so glad this all happened in my life so I could get a real taste of what people are talking about.  And nothing bad came of my experience.  Nobody was physically injured, no charges were pressed against anyone.  For me, only good came from this walk in my crazy life.  I feel equipped to understand another person’s struggle with racism and I like to understand people.  I love humans.  Maybe I could help someone get over their racism as I have gotten over mine.  I learned so much about myself during this process and I am grateful it all happened.  

I stopped at one of my neighbor’s places the other day.  He has a sign by the road that said “Harness Shop”.  I wanted for our calves, a halter that was one size larger than the small one we have.  The neighbor was a bit short with me, he was in the middle of unloading something from his friend’s truck.  I kept my peace and pushed through and we made a nice exchange of money and halter.  I asked him his name and he told me.  I told him my name but he already knew who I was, and he knew my child’s name too.  This was the first time I had ever met him, looked into his eyes.  Maybe I’ve seen him pass by on the road, I have no way of knowing.  But it was fine.  It was a pleasant interaction and I feel appreciation to have a shop like that just down the road from my farm.  There are many things I do not appreciate about this community of people that I live in, but I love them all.  I love them because they are humans.  They are doing the best they can and they are individuals, even though they all dress the same and have the same haircuts.  Each one of them is unique and I am safe.  I am not vulnerable.  No one could ever do anything to change that.  My safety and my security come from my faithful relationship with God.  Love is all there is.  Racism helped me learn the truth.    

frequently used Phrases

Words are lovely to me and I enjoy learning to offer my words intentionally.  With a child, phrases are helpful because young children thrive on repetition and consistency.  I find satisfaction in using specific phrases that resonate with my personal truth.  Following are some examples of commonly used phrases that I replaced with words that flow well for me.  

 - Be careful

     I like to say “stay alert”.  When I know I want the kid to be careful, it always feels a little bit scary and I imagine him falling down from the high thing he is climbing.  So I don’t say be careful because the child would feel what I am focused on, the fear. Fear causes people to make mistakes, lose their focus and fall.  So when he’s climbing or what ever activity makes me want to say be careful, I always stop him, get his attention, and say “stay alert”.  Its a conscious exchange and he feels that.  When I say stay alert, I am thinking about how I have observed him in the past being really careful and deliberate and how he has good balance and he enjoys climbing and he doesn’t attract injury and drama into his experience.  I am thinking about how he succeeds, he masters activities, he is the king of the world, determined and bright.  So when I stop and intentionally offer “stay alert”, the child feels all that I am focused on, there’s no fear in it.  The vibration he receives from me is confidence in his ability to focus.  

 - Don’t get too close

      I like to say “give the cow space”.  If I say don’t get too close, it feels vague and sort of fearful, like there’s danger here and if you’re too close you’ll get hurt.  While all that may be true, I don’t want to focus on that.  I like to use positive statements instead of telling him “don’t” do something.  And I like to be more specific.  What does too close mean?  It only implies the danger, too close to get hurt.  Well how close is that and why am I putting the idea of close into his head?  I don’t want him close to the cow.  The positive statement “give the cow space” empowers the child.  He is in control, he can give space.  He gets to make the choice, he is responsible for his own safety, he is powerful.  Give the cow space, well how much space is a bit vague but he can look at the legs and see how long they are, maybe how far they can reach.  When I’m focused on space, that is the safe feeling, there is safety in space.  And I can guide him by saying, more space, that’s good and give her just a bit more space.  So he’s being generous to the cow and giving her space and he is safe so I can relax and squeeze the teats.  

 - I can’t do it

       I try to never say this myself and I always say, “I am learning to…”.   That one’s hard because sometimes I am in the moment, failing at some task and I feel frustration, but it does feel better to say “I am learning how”.  I have heard the child say, I can’t do it, a few times and it breaks my heart.  I know that he can do anything and I know that he knows that deep down, but its natural to feel frustration.  So if I hear him say it I always gently offer “you are learning how”.   He usually doesn’t respond well to that but I keep it light and focus on my pure knowing that he is learning, exploring the world and he CAN do it.  When someone asks me something about the child I always genuinely answer that “he is learning how”.   Like swimming.  He’s not in lessons or anything but he plays in the bathtub and we spend time at the lake, and yes, he is becoming more comfortable in the water and in a natural human way he is experiencing water and learning how to swim.  Its good for him to hear me tell other people my truth, he is learning how.  I feel a lot better when I can’t do something quite right, even emotional stuff like reacting well to my partner, to think or say to myself, I am learning how.  

 - I want that.

      Usually a new toy that his friend had at church.  “Mama, I want a such-and-such transformer.”    I like to say “Its good to know what you want”.  When he tells me he wants something I usually feel a twinge of guilt that I am not going to get that for him.  I am his mama and I want to give him the whole world, the moon, and the stars.  I want him to have everything that he wants in life.  Its natural for a mama to feel responsible for getting him what he wants, that’s how the human race has survived on planet earth.  When they’re babies and they cry, it is our natural inclination to get them what they want: warmth, food from our own bodies, a dry bottom, Love.  Then they get older.  We did well raising them up, but now he wants a transformer toy.  I know that I am not the only source of what the child wants.  God used me when he was little to keep him safe and fed and loved.  God uses an infinite number of ways to fulfill our needs and desires.  Its more comfortable for me to know that the child can desire something and he may receive it from the Universe, and it doesn’t have to flow through me or my wallet.  I told him after church that for me it feels good to think about the countless times we’ve had friends show up in our driveway specifically to drop off a toy for Mateo.  We really have been blessed and he remembers.  It is good to know what you want.  I’m glad he knew when he was hungry or cold as a baby and I want him to know what he wants to study and pursue when he’s older, so I can honestly tell him now, I am glad you know what you want.  I like being honest with him and I like him to feel desire and I like to feel free of guilt, to know that God has loving arms around my child too.  

 - Brush your teeth

      This was personal for me as I remember resisting that phrase for many, many years.  Right from the very beginning I wanted it to be different for him.  I decided to focus on something that he may value when he gets a little older, a fresh clean mouth.   I like the way my mouth feels all fresh and clean after I brush and I always brush my tongue too.  When we’re getting ready to go somewhere I can comfortably ask him, do you have a fresh clean mouth?  I want him to focus on the wonderful way it feels and not the chore of obeying his mama to brush his teeth.  

 - Blah, blah, blah…

      So many times throughout the day there are 1 million things I could say.  I am learning to not say them.  I am learning to hold my peace and stay silent.  Its a quiet, loving silence.  I’m not good at the teeth clenched, angry silence.  I usually just yell.  But what I like is the hold him in Love Silence.  When he was younger and learning to speak, I knew that much of what he offered verbally was just practice.  He was learning to form words with his developing mind and his developing throat and mouth muscles.  He was imitating phrases and words that he had heard.  Practice.  So I started practicing silence then.  The 10 thousand questions were just practice, like taking steps and learning to walk.  I would look at him and acknowledge that he spoke and I would breathe and wait.  Many times he wasn’t looking at me and he was on to the next idea, never really wanting an answer to his question.  It wasn’t a real question, he was practicing the art of human speech.  This continues for me today even though he speaks quite well now.  Many times I just hold him in Loving Silence.  He knows by now that if he is asking about something that I know he knows the answer to, he will not receive an answer from me.  If he persists, I will say, I believe you know.  I like to treat him as the intelligent being that he is and I like to maintain my own integrity.  Sometimes humans talk just to talk, to fill the silence.  We all do this sometimes.  I am trying to do it less and less and I want to foster that in the child also.  So when he wants attention and he goes for it by asking questions, I recognize what is happening and offer him attention in some way that is comfortable for me.  Or I tell him to go entertain himself.  The other thing that has been working well for me as of late is to say the phrase, “God Bless You”.   There are so many circumstances when I want to say something, but it will just make things more confusing or drag something out.  But words must come out of my mouth, so I say God bless you.  That fulfills my need to speak and it feels good to say.  It reminds me that I am not in this alone.  God loves the child and God loves me and everything is fine.  

  

You are good at Loving.

     This phrase I got from a spiritual teacher.   I like to say it to him when he’s overflowing joy for a kitten or a toy or some lego creation he just made.  I am so happy for him and I probably am not feeling the same thing at the same time but I want to honor his joy somehow even though I am not joining him in it.  It feels good to acknowledge that he is good at loving.  Its an important human quality and I want to celebrate that.  Yes you are my child, you are good at Loving.  

honest relationship

  In the dream, I was sort of reuniting with a group of people that I had left in charge of mateo.  They were watching him for me while I was doing something else.  As I approached the group outside in a city type yard next to a neighborhood street, I saw mateo.  He was driving a mini-van.  He was smiling and having fun, the van was going really fast, back and forth in the street.  I started screaming and waving my arms, running towards the van.  The windows were up, he couldn’t hear me, and he was having so much fun it wouldn’t have mattered.  He finally backed the van over the sidewalk into a yard and that’s when I reached him.  I open the door, took him in my arms, sat on the ground and just held him.  No words were offered, I just rocked back and forth holding him, crying with the sweet relief of having him safe in my arms.

It was nice to just run past the group of people that were meant to be watching him.  They had made themselves irrelevant.  There was no need to interact with them at all.  It was nice to just focus on the child.  There was absolutely nothing to discuss with the people who had agreed to watch my child.  There was absolutely no thing they could say or do to ever explain or make right the fact that under their watch, the child had been driving a minivan in the street.  A five year old child.  There was no reason to ever speak to them again.  Obviously they had demonstrated their values.

They don’t value my child’s life.  They don’t experience any integrity.  They aren’t interested in maintaining any kind of relationship with me, the child’s mother and friend.  It was nice to just run right past them without a glance or a thought.  Run right to the child and hold him safe in my arms.  That is all that matters.  Can’t change the past.  He’s safe now, out of the van, in my arms, safe.  Can know what to do in the future based on the behavior of those people.  They clearly communicated that they are not interested in caring for a child.  They obviously have no desire to communicate and interact with the the child.  They would rather let the child drive a minivan than attempt the kind of communication necessary to keep the child safe.  

I get it.  I totally understand.  Its hard sometimes to communicate with mateo.  Its hard to communicate with humans sometime, in general.  I see parents at my church that just let their kids run and talk during the opening prayer.  Its just easier for them to ignore their child and maybe smack his butt towards the end of the service after he’s been disruptive the whole time.  That’s one of the main things I love about church.  It provides the space, the opportunity for me to develop, to practice my relationship with mateo.

Now we have a thing, that we’ve developed over time and with lots of practice.  When a friend is praying, the mouth is closed and the hands are still.  Simple.  I use the same words every time so its clear, consistent, and I know that kids under seven thrive on repetition.  I want mateo to do well, so I use communication that resonates with his developmental stage.  I know what resonates with him because I got books from the library and read a whole bunch and meditated on what I found and came up with communication that fits well for our specific relationship.  I tried some things and observed the results and made adjustments accordingly, to get the results I desired.  What I desire is to have clear, honest communication with the child, so he feels respected and free to participate in the activity in a supportive way.  

He loves to go to church.  So he is willing to participate in the church environment.  He willingly honors the quiet when a friend is praying.  I have explained to him what is expected and why and he understands and agrees.  Not out of fear.  I’ve never punished him for not being quiet during the prayer.  I speak to him about it sometimes before church and after church.  I prep him before we get there, to build the healthy habit of respecting the person offering the prayer.  

I want mateo to learn and practice self-control and church is such a wonderful environment for that.  Yes its fun to run and play with your church cousins, and, part of the church experience is praying.  He understands that coming to church means he gets to play with friends and he gets to practice self-control.  It builds his confidence to know that he can stop talking.  He can hold his toy still.  Even when the kids around him are talking, he focuses on the only thing he can control, himself.   During the singing we have another little rule.  I hesitate to call it a rule.  Its a phrase that I use over and over with him, to allow him his freedom while he participates in honoring the environment around him.  I want to listen to the singing, so you talk in a quiet voice.  That’s it.  He can play and have fun with his friends, and the moment his voice gets regular volume or louder, I calmly go over, greet the children loving with a whispered, hello friends, and I tell them, “I want to listen to the singing.  Speak in a quiet voice.”  They hear me whispering and the demonstration helps them understand.  I always say the same phrase so they understand, they thrive on repetition.  One time Wyatt kept speaking loud at the table with mateo and I asked Wyatt to say a silly phrase in quiet voice.  He did and I praised him.  He honestly didn’t know how to speak in a quiet voice and he responded well to some loving guidance.  

And mateo and I talk about, what if the kids around you are playing with toys and being loud, how do you act during the prayer?  Closed mouth, still hands.  Do you tell them to be quiet or try to still their hands?  No.  Demonstrate the way to act during a prayer.  You do the right thing to honor John praying and that’s perfect.