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Discipline is often thought of as something we do to a child when they do something that we do not want them to do. In this sense, punishment and discipline can become confused and the opportunity present in discipline is lost or misguided.
The root of the word discipline is disciple. Disciple refers to someone who is a student or follower, one who is essentially being taught by someone who is wise. Discipline is the art of teaching with wisdom. The function and role of a parent is to teach. Parents are always teaching children through example, whether considered wise or unwise.
In moments when a parent feels the child has done something inappropriate, something that deems correction or guidance, the art of discipline is what determines the outcome for both the parent and child. Parents can feel various ways when a child does something they would prefer the child not do. Some parents feel clear about discipline in such occurrences. Many parents feel doubt, frustration, anger and sadness about how to properly teach the child to live amongst society’s expectations while honoring the child’s need to be a unique and innovative contributor to the same society.
There are only a few ways that a parent or caregiver can respond to a child in moments of question or in need of discipline. These methods first take place within the mind of the parent and lead to the actual interaction between parent and child. I have placed them into three common categories of punishment, permissiveness and discipline. Punishment and permissiveness can have similar underlying qualities of dis-empowerment for the child and parent, but permissiveness can also be a bridge from punishment to discipline at times when a parent is learning new techniques for teaching.
Seeks to impose a negative outcome in response to something a child has done so the child feels bad and will not repeat the action, in spiritual terms believes a child has a sinful or otherwise harmful nature that must be taught out, primary experience is parental power/authority over child.
Seeks to allow the child to be autonomous and free of punishment, but may lack conscious teaching, often a mutual parent-child search and exploration of inner and outer power/strength/value/worth.
Seeks to gently guide the child with love and create a space for the child to become self-aware and self-teaching, primary experience is power/strength/value/worth with the child, in spiritual terms believes a child’s inherent nature of goodness, being a child of Creation, simply needs nurturing.
Each parent must decide what discipline means. The decision must factor in whether or not the short and long term results of a particular discipline method determine how a parent will teach. While punishment may create a short term result of obedience it stems from a fear based relationship with the parent that has been shown in research to promote aggressiveness and long term harm in ways that cannot always be detected initially. Discipline may take longer with more repetition and stems from a trust based relationship with the parent that leads to long term self-awareness and confidence. Teaching methods vary from parent to parent based on several factors including personality, past experience and level of awareness and the basis for teaching does create results in the lives of everyone involved.
Discipline that “works” honors the innate worth of everyone involved. Teaching with wisdom releases old held patterns of shaming, harm and other negative outcomes while focusing on behavior that is appropriate and allowing the child to be the unique being she is here to be. Children who are guided in this way have the potential to greatly impact society in a positive manner.
Children are continually calling parents forward to the deep truths of Life. Parents have the opportunity in each new moment to examine the ways of thinking and behavior that co-create the experiences they have with their children and choose differently when necessary. Embracing discipline that works allows families to blossom and spread love beyond expectations throughout the world.
Amy Phoenix is a mother of four who facilitates spiritual awareness and healing in the parent-child relationship and beyond for world harmony. Please visit www.innatewholeness.com to learn more.
This is a long post with a present day reflection after the story…
I was in the kitchen when it happened.
Althea came out and said, “I need to go outside.”
At the same moment I said, “Why?” I knew why.
“Because I think Martin fell out the window.”
I ran to the bedroom, saw the screen out as a vision of him slumped on the ground flashed through my mind. I ran to the window and looked out – he was walking! Crying, but walking!
I started saying loudly, “Oh my God!” as I ran down the flight of stairs to him. I picked him up and yelled to the neighbor that he fell out the window! He asked, “Do you want me to call emergency?”
“Yes!”
I sat on the couch and somehow I managed to keep calm as Martin cried and said his back hurt. I asked him if he could move his feet. Not initially, but I did not focus there. I told him to keep still in my arms, that he would be okay. I felt inside that he would, regardless of the outcome, and that I had to remain calm, or we’d both be in trouble.
Althea and Azalea just watched and I repeated to Martin that he would be okay, just to be still in my arms. The neighbor man came up and talked to Martin, asking, “Are you okay, buddy?” Nice grandfatherly man.
I started telling Althea things to do. The children had been playing with cardboard bricks, building forts and such, so the floor was cluttered. I asked her to move the sheets and blocks out of the walk way and she began to carefully pick up. I said, “No, Althea, just kick everything to the side, the emergency people need to get through to Martin.” She obliged. I asked her to get my Ergo baby carrier because I would use it for Azalea, and it contained my wallet, cell phone and keys. She quickly retrieved it, bless her little soul.
I called my friend Christine somewhere in there and said, “Martin fell out the window!” She was really calm, as usual, and began to explain something about how her friend who was an EMT something about kids and falls. I concluded I was doing the right thing by calling 911. So I got off the phone to confirm they were coming because it seemed like it was taking too long. They started to arrive. By “they” I mean the emergency responders: fire trucks, EMT, police/sheriff. I told Martin they were going to touch him and talk to him so they could help him where he hurts. They did and they asked to take him out of my arms.
Ethan, an EMT, held him and felt his innards to make sure nothing was immediately poking through anywhere. Then he laid him on the couch. I kept talking to Martin to let him know he was going to be okay. The police of course wanted my name and DOB, all the pertinent information. I felt sort of like I wasn’t in my body. I knew I needed to remain calm for Martin, but I felt pulled different directions.
The neighbor woman, Carol, came up and she volunteered to stay with Althea and Azalea. I said I’d take them with me. However, this was not widely received. One EMT said there isn’t enough room. I said the baby is coming with me, she’s never left me. He said that I’d need a car seat. I have one. I really wanted to take Althea as we just moved to Washington and I did not want a separation. Althea said she was okay going with Christine and Erich. I called Christine to see if she could pick up Althea. She could be there in 10 minutes. The emergency personnel and Carol would stay with her until Christine came. I chose to trust my son’s and my daughter’s life and well being to complete strangers, at least for a time.
The EMT proceeded to stabilize Martin’s neck with a collar brace. He was crying. I felt the vulnerability of the whole situation as the three EMTs grappled with how exactly to transfer Martin from the couch to the papoose board. Finally, they agreed and made the move. They strapped him and taped him so he could essentially not move. It was very hard to see him in that position, but I just kept telling him I was right there, he would be okay, and they were doing this to help him. He remained relatively cooperative and continued to cry. I wanted to hug him so badly. The staff were kind, but had their job to do, and did want me “out of the way”.
I felt somewhat disconnected from Martin physically, but remained connected in a spiritual sense. It was like part of me was always holding him, just not in the physical sense. Oh, my baby boy! They began to carry him out and I rushed to strap Azalea in the Ergo, grab her car seat, and run behind Martin as he was carried down the stairs. Martin was yelling, “Mommy”, and I rushed to his side so he could hold my hand. As we were about to enter the truck, the one EMT concerned about space again asked if I had a car so I could travel separately.
I looked him straight in his eye and soul and said, “No, we just moved here. I need to be with him.” I started to stutter saying, “Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…do this… to us.” Again, “I need to stay with him. We just moved across the country from Michigan without his Dad. He needs me. I’m not trying to be difficult, but I need to be with him.” They appreciated that I was not trying to be difficult. They put him in the truck. The police officer said he was just taking an information report. I quickly thought, “As opposed to…?” and said, “Just do whatever you have to do.” An EMT put Azalea’s car seat in, took her and buckled her in. She was amazingly cooperative as well. She seemed to know that this was serious and she remained calm through out.
En route I held Martin’s hand and the EMT prepped him for a hep lock, in the event she would need to give him medication intravenously. I asked questions about the apparent syringe of saline solution, which she did not end up giving him. Azalea kept quietly watching Martin as he started to fall asleep. The EMT started to tell the driving EMT that Martin was somnolent, which I assumed meant, “sleepy”. I confirmed this, although, it was obviously alarming her. She attempted to wake him and I told her he is often difficult to wake, that he sleeps hard. Also, he had gotten up early so I was not surprised he was drifting off to sleep after all of the trauma he had experienced. I heard her call the hospital personnel to report this change as the sirens were enabled and the ambulance increased speed. Azalea squawked at this point, as if to express concern, not directly for Martin, but the heightened stress in the ambulance. I assured her he would be okay, and she settled back to watch him quietly.
We arrived at St. Peter’s and the two EMTs transferred him in as we rushed behind. The hospital staff were a relaxed bunch who came in to do their duties, drawing blood and affixing labels of this and that to his wrist. I could see Martin visibly relax as the papoose straps, collar brace, and literal tape were removed from him. I was quietly reflecting on how our medical system really treats the body, and does this with so many gadgets, numbers, and strategies. Very intriguing if you ever have the opportunity to sit back somewhat objectively and watch what we do to keep a body alive and stable.
The Doctor came in with a calm presence, ponytail secured loosely at the nape of his neck, a 50ish man. He was sure Martin would throw up and that he had hit his head which explained his somnolence. I repeated that he can be very hard to awaken as he’s a hard sleeper, that he had woken up early. He said they would perform several x-rays and we would go from there. I talked to Martin and explained the need to take pictures of his bones to make sure nothing was broken, that everything was still together. He sleepily said, “Everything’s together, Mom,” and shut his eyes for what would be about an hour or two.
The radiologist came to roll Martin to the x-ray area and was amazed at his ability to sleep through the ride. “I’ve never seen a child sleep like this.” I said, “Yes, I’m sure he’s much easier than most patients!”
I was again surprised at the advances in our medical technology as the x-rays were actually taken digitally. Instead of having to wait for development, they were readily available through the computer! Martin slept through the series of them and we were back on our way to wait for the Doctor’s evaluation.
You may notice I haven’t mentioned Azalea. I feel this is in part due to the Ergo, and the attachment parenting style I feel drawn to. Through all of the 5-6 hours we spent in St. Peter’s hospital, Azalea was either happily snuggled into the Ergo next to me or playing peacefully in the room, observing everything and everyone! She was not the baby who cried due to boredom, as a matter of fact I spent many of the minutes we were there very thankful for the way I parent, and the Ergo, of course. The connection I have with her is so strong that she just knew what to do when this emergency came up. I also love the fact that I can wear her in the Ergo for hours and my back literally does not hurt. I’m serious. I often have passersby say, “You must have a strong back.” My response is, “This Ergo is a really well made carrier.”
Anyhow, the doctor came in as Martin continued to sleep and said his review of the x-rays concluded no sustained broken bones – amazing! Not one. He was concerned about his head and brain and talked to me about a CT scan. He related the risks, such as a 0.3% higher chance of developing cancer and that the radiation of the scan equated to 200 x-rays. While that was significant, I chose to err on the side of caution and go with his recommendation to confirm there were no head injuries. Again, a radiologist came to roll Martin away. I walked along with as he still slept and watched the man position him in the opening of the scan. He continued his slumber. In minutes we were rolling back to the room.
The waiting for the scan took a bit longer and Azalea and I took a trip to the bathroom and called family. I was hesitant to call before I had information confirming Martin’s wellness. I just did not want to call Martin’s dad and my parents saying, “Martin fell out the window and he’s sleeping and we haven’t had x-rays yet.” I needed to have more information so I waited. Maybe it’s because I felt inside he would be okay and I needed to have medical confirmation that his body sustained no injuries, or maybe it’s because I did not want anyone’s energy to interfere with where I was at in connecting with Martin through the trauma. I felt strongly that I needed to stay focused. Likely a little of both. They were worried, but relieved to hear the outcome sounded positive.
In the end, Martin woke up and I offered him some water. He drank a little and complained a bit of back pain, he had trouble sitting up. The doctor came in to let us know the CT scan came back clear, as I suspected it would. He wanted to ask Martin some questions to make sure his brain was working okay before he would release us. He asked him what his name was, where he was at (which Martin had not much of a clue because he had not been in a hospital recently and never that one), who Azalea was. Martin answered clearly. The nurse was ordered to give him some ibuprofen for the back pain and we called Christine and Erich to pick us up.
It was a joyful moment as Myles, Zoie, Althea, and Erich arrived. The genuine concern for Martin’s well being they exhibited was so present when they entered the room. They each asked questions of Martin as they saw him sitting up in bed with a coloring book brought by an earlier passing volunteer. He was pleased to see them. Martin was helped to a wheel chair and we were leaving the hospital, so thankfully unscathed.
The next 24 hours was a barrage of emotions for me, and the kids. In all of it we ended up on Kiro 7 TV news, out of Seattle, as part of a small public information piece meant to remind parents of the dangers of open windows. Althea and Martin briefly explained the happenings with Martin highlighted saying, “The window broke.” Our landlord held her ground in recommending we move to the ground floor, that the window itself was not to blame. While that is true, our previous experience with screened windows at the house in Michigan was with windows that were constructed differently. They actually held a child sitting on a ledge next to an open window. Martin, and all of us, learned a valuable lesson that not all windows are created equal.
The next evening, I was still in awe that Martin only sustained soreness in his back. No scrapes or bruising. He literally fell out the window into a 3 foot wide strip of beauty bark, otherwise known as wood chip mulch, narrowly missing a hose hanger hook, the back of a pick up, and a cement curb. Althea said when she looked out the window she saw him curled up on his side, like a fetus.
I asked Martin how he knew to fall to not get hurt and how he got up. He said, “Mom, a magical fairy picked me up and flew me.” I am ever so grateful.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Since that fateful day almost three years ago exactly I have reflected on the gift I was given in Martin’s fall out of the window.
Life is delicate, so are our children. Love gently and often. Right here, right now.
I remember that event gratefully because it helps me recall where I want to be, who I really am – present and appreciative of what Life brings in all of its forms.
I am “lucky”. My son did not sustain injuries, but I know the Life I share with him can be gone in an instant and that fact does not change because Life is always changing. I do not live in constant fear of losing my children, although I admit it is something I walk through from time to time, but I do practice persistence in being true to myself, my values, and the parenting path I have chosen. Life is too precious not to.
I remind myself to be gentle in my thoughts and actions, to lower my voice and breathe evenly if I become upset, to savor each moment I have with the people in my life, to express appreciation for the ups and the downs – out loud to myself and others, to remember that Life is a varied experience and really not “supposed” to be a certain way, to honor my dreams and pursue them faithfully. I am thankful for the continued opportunities to do this because I will use as many as I can get!
Love,
Amy
Not because it’s Valentine’s Day… just because you’re You. Simply because you were born into this Earthly reality we all share and you are innately valuable.
I love the child within that comes out to play, wonder, and explore. I love your creativity and your willingness.
I love your smile as it shines from the inside out. And I am not the only one who notices, whether I know you in person or not – it is far felt.
I appreciate you in your fullness, whatever you may feel – angry, upset, sad, confused, frustrated, joyful, relaxed, easy going, hopeful, faithful, loving, or any other variation.
I love that you are dedicated to parenting in a way that honors you and your child, from the inside out. That you love enough to keep going, start over, try again, seek resources, and appreciate whatever possible when moments are tough and your commitment to make the most of the present.
I appreciate you and I thank you for continuing to subscribe to this email list, even though I haven’t sent a note in quite a while!
I have been ‘within’ enjoying family and adjusting to lovely changes. In November the children and I moved to southern Missouri with my partner, Michael. I have been joyfully practicing Parent Talk and will be offering classes very soon (look towards the end of next week for a special sign up just for subscribers). To add to the excitement I am expecting a fourth child in September! I have been spending a fair amount of time resting and reflecting… now I’m back. I trust Life is providing you ample opportunities for reflection also. I look forward to connecting with you again soon!
Much Love,
Amy
A few days ago I joined three close friends, who are also mothers, in a healing session. What came to me was a profound reminder of taking time to simply sit down and take care of ourselves. Different than in the standard ways, yet complimentary.
Enjoy…
In the beginning as I set the intention to receive I felt guided to flow a light of forgiveness session for all of us.
An initial insight was about taking moments to center, ground, focus, heal in the midst of our lives… a visual of sitting in the center of the room, hands in peaceful prayer position, eyes closed with family coming to value these moments we go within…much like physical nourishment, this being nourishment for the soul and us taking the time to do it whenever we’re “hungry.”
Truly we are the example and the more we do this whenever we feel moved in whatever context we are in the more we give them permission to do the same, instead of worry about what others are thinking of us… tuning in, tuning in, tuning in…
Take whatever moments you need today to simply tune into you for the harmony of the entire family
Have you ever found yourself feeling like your child’s behavior is simply unacceptable? Maybe it’s hitting, whining, yelling, or something else that really gets under your skin…
How do we develop the idea and feeling of ‘unacceptable’? Definitely the culture of origin, our upbringing, moral values or religious beliefs – and maybe just a feeling that what we’re experiencing isn’t quite right.
Unacceptable breeds a feeling of “NO!” It may accompany thoughts like… “I hate, I can’t stand, There is no way this can continue, I do not like, or I am not having this…”
In terms of energy it is a form of resistance to what we cannot accept internally in the moment we are resisting. Is this bad? No. It simply is what it is. Staying in the feeling of non-acceptance continues the resistance and leads to feeling stress, sadness, anger, angst, or frustration. If we focus on what we will not accept we keep it present in our experience (including behavior we find grating or undesirable).
Whatever the case, when we feel like a behavior is unacceptable we can take steps to alleviate the feelings we have and direct our attention towards what we want to have happen with our children. We can learn to accept the fact that our child is behaving (being a certain way in a given moment in time) and that the way she is being is not an indicator of how she’ll be all day, just how she’s being in this moment.
The key to turning the feeling of unacceptable into one of internal acceptance and positive action is much like turning the key to the door of our home when what we want most is to be in the comfort of our surroundings. You know the feeling… you’ve been gone for a while and there’s an edge to your being that you know will be soothed once your body is inside the door. You have the same key to your peace. It starts with turning the key.
Turn the key from “This is unacceptable” to “This is what is happening now and for that reason and that reason alone I will accept that it is happening. Ahhh, that brings a feeling of relief even though I want to change what is happening.”
Then turn the key a bit farther as you ease into the feeling of relief coupled with knowing you are taking action to influence what you want to have happen. When we focus on the desired behavior we release the resistance created with “XYZ behavior is unacceptable!” While a statement like that does give information it also keeps the focus on what we don’t want! You can turn the key more and feel the truth of a statement that softens the situation like, “We don’t hit in our family because it hurts and drives people apart.”
Keep turning… what feels acceptable? Is it acceptable for your child to talk about how he feels and what he wants to have happen when he’s upset enough to hit? Is it acceptable for your child to speak up and ask for what he wants in a regular voice? Is it acceptable for your child to speak in a lower voice? Focus your energy there as you turn the key towards information that allows your child and you the space to create a new way of communicating about “the unacceptable.”
Walk in the door. You’re there, it’s your house, and it’s all good. Just choose to turn the key so you can enter … and accept.
I woke up around 2 am feeling like something needed to be written. Our family has been experiencing some changes lately and writing has not been at the top of my list so this was a welcome surprise.
I came to the task of parenting seeing it as a privilege, but still a task. Through many ups and downs (like we all experience to one degree or another) I decided that parenting in peace was something I’d die for. Meaning that the me I thought I was would die. Not me – the physical expression and body known as Amy – but all of the stories and patterns and actions that were not serving me or my family. Such a death does not occur instantly or without pain in many instances (at least in my experience the process is still unfolding!) And it certainly requires a focus on what one is living and standing For. Of course I protect my children and I’ve stood in front of them to defend them from physical attack more than once, but I live consciously knowing that I now create a life experience where such a threat is not part of our lives.
We can choose peace. In any moment, in all moments… over and over again until there’s nothing left but peace. It starts with us, on the personal level. Join me in the journey…
Much love to you and yours,
Amy
Pain can come in various forms. With an infant it may begin with the squeeze through the birth canal and the separation from the homey environment of the womb. Many people could relate one experience on top of another after those first perceptions of discomfort as a person enters the realm of humanity. Falling down as one learns to walk, skinned knees, the emotional pain of separating from parents or sibling rivalry…
You know if you are running when your mind starts to scatter in several directions or one straight into making someone at fault. A large sense of “this is wrong” may begin to swell within you. Your body may tense, you may join your child in his or her pain, or you may literally find yourself backing away, cringing inside at the pain your child is experiencing.
Pain that is faced and embraced will transform back into the light that it truly is. Pain is simply an in the moment energetic expression of disconnection from innate well being. I know it doesn’t feel simple, but as you allow yourself to feel the simple truth of emotions being a signal, rather than something to avoid, you will begin to experience them for the neutral gift they really are. Neither right nor wrong, emotions – including pain – simply are. They exist, like everything else and when pushed against the energy stays stuck/stagnant, instead of being allowed to flow.
At the core of each being – you and your child included – is the energy of light and love. Not in some airy fairy sense, but in reality. We are energy. We are expressions of the One Source. Who we think we are is part of the experience, but underneath all of who we have come to know we are is pure light energy. When that is denied or questioned (as often happens when pain is experienced) the “result” is more disconnection and pain.
Imagine yourself standing in front of your child who is in pain (sadness, crying, anger, lashing out, some expression of what we perceive as negative emotion). Feel into your own body and energy with your breath. Before you act and try to fade or fix the child or situation, breathe. Deeply into your body. Feel your breath come in and out several times and notice any tension you feel.
The pain we witness in our children will often ignite past pain we have. There may be an experience or story attached or it may seem illogical for us to feel upset. Choose to accept that you are feeling what you are feeling and that you can be with the feeling, whether it is within you or your child.
Know that it is not your job to change the circumstances to make your child feel better. If danger is imminent, by all means do what you have to do of course! However, notice when you are moving swiftly to protect in a way that doesn’t allow the feeling of emotions or acceptance of what is for you or your child.
For example, I recently found a family day care for my children while I work. It is a part time situation and the woman caring for my children is wonderful – someone I consider a friend even though we’ve recently become acquainted. As a single mother, I have been asking for this type of a care arrangement for a while…
On the first day my youngest who is 3 did not want to stay. My middle child was also apprehensive. We worked through it as I stayed for a couple of hours so they could become comfortable. When I received a call later in the day that my youngest had an experience of strong anger when a situation around pottying came up I felt some very strong feelings and stories come up within me.
“Is she okay? Is the child she *bit* okay? Is the care provider okay? Is this even the right situation? I’m not sure if I can deal with this!”
It felt a lot like transition towards the end of birth where the cervix opens so widely and the baby is about to emerge that the mother questions everything she has ever known.
For a while I have been aware of the fact that trusting my children in another’s care is something I must walk through on a personal level of growth. Little by little I did so… with family, friends, and in seeking a provider to care for them during work hours. It’s all about trust for me. Trust that Life gives us all what we need and that we are guided, guarded, and protected… through living consciously.
In facing the emotions, my good friend Christine reminded me that this was all coming up for me to be with. I could make changes if necessary from the place of facing them – not running from them. The peace that descended upon me during that conversation and after as I embraced the pain welling up was great… and lasting.
Whatever the situation, know that pain is simply a signal saying… “Be with me” much like a little child. Look into its eyes, sit with it, and know that you do not have to fade it or fix it… just love it and it will transform back into the light and love that it presently forgot that it is…
Changing the way you parent can bring up the challenge of how to deal with past pain and patterns that are well established and difficult to “break” as you navigate new experiences.
Gives support to the mindset you are developing through strengthening the awareness of your innate gifts.
Copyright 2009 Amy Christine Bush & Christine Gulrajani | Innate Parenting
I will admit that I don’t particularly want to be called ’stupid.’ It’s happened and I have certainly done some very stupid things in my life and chances are that won’t stop completely, even if I don’t view them as stupid.
So when my youngest child started calling not only me, but pretty much everything stupid when she got angry I had to do a bit of a check in. Where is the word exposure coming from? Do I feel stupid? What does the word stupid really mean – to me and to her?
It was obvious that it was a verbal expression of anger or unrest. She said it when she got upset. I know from experience that any inner resistance I put up is not going to help so I acknowledged that I didn’t like what she was saying while I pondered creative ways to get her to say something else…
Can you tell me how you are feeling? Are you feeling angry? Can you please say that you are feeling angry instead of the word ’stupid’?
Oops! Put the focus back on stupid – that doesn’t help very much.
Then I decided to just let it go, understanding that she would work through it and in not giving it energy the name calling would dissipate faster.
And I noticed something very interesting.
She has a process and when I do not interfere in that process through fully accepting her, as well as my own feelings, in the moment something magical happens.
“You are stupid, stupid, stupid.” I accept where she’s at internally with no words or actions.
“You are okay. You are nice. I love you.”
What a shift! That is called ‘walking up the emotional scale’ by Esther and Jerry Hicks, who wrote the book The Astonishing Power of Emotions: Let Your Feelings Be Your Guide. A person feels bad and reaches for relief. In acknowledging the negative emotion and not pushing against it my daughter is able to walk up the scale with no help from me – naturally.
Our children have their own process and we need to figure out our own process to give them permission on an energetic level to actually honor their process. It is very circular and may seem kind of funny, but we really are their guides – in every sense, whether we are talking, acting or just being.
How can you honor and refine your own process so you do not interfere with your child’s?
Much Love,
Amy
Copyright 2009 Amy Christine Bush & Christine Gulrajani | Innate Parenting
Today has been a day to follow the winds – literally. I woke up with the intention of living the truth of a song my good friend, Michelle, brought to my attention… (I invite you to play it as you read the rest of the post ).
With the song playing on the kitchen boom box, I woke up my two older children in preparation for school. I proceeded to hold a loving space for my oldest daughter who wasn’t exactly perky upon rising. ) I hugged them all, listened to the song, and made our way to the public Montessori they attend.
My son was having a bit of a time adjusting to the kindergarten classroom this morning so my youngest and I stayed to provide some more love – just by being there. I looked around and appreciated every child and teacher, knowing everyone was doing their best. Within an hour it was clear that my son was okay so we moseyed on to do some errands.
The idea to visit the park came to my mind so I asked Azalea if she wanted to go. She answered with a resounding, “Yes!” But we still had errands to run so we enjoyed just being together in the car, noticing what we noticed, and talking about this and that.
The person we were running errands for was particularly funny today. When we dropped off the first (even though I thought it was the *only*) set of items, he asked us to just run “one more errand.” We were feeling good so we continued on with a smile. Then when we returned the second set, he asked us to make one more stop. Laughing, I asked if he thought we wouldn’t run all of the errands had he asked for them all at once! No… he just didn’t remember everything at once. ) And this is true of him so it’s actually funny that *I* asked him the question in the first place.
We pleasantly rolled down the windows as we headed to the park. Upon entering it was fun to hear Azalea laugh and say, “Ohhh… the park, I like this park.” It had been a few weeks since we visited this vast park with a wooden playground, pond, and plenty of grass to run around in.
One of the first play things AZ gravitated towards was a rope grid that one can climb up or down and see the ground underneath while doing so. As she climbed down holding onto the railing for support she said over and over very confidently, “I can.” The simplicity of the words I had started our morning with were coming out of her mouth, and it wasn’t the first time.
AZ often tells herself “I can.” We haven’t read the book about the train and although I’d like to say there’s something special and specific I’ve done to help her feel so confident I can only say that I allow her to explore her abilities and I believe in her wholeheartedly. The rest really lies within her and her choice to trust that she can and when she doubts that to remind herself…
It brought me to think about adults and how we meet challenge. When we can see the ground beneath us, waiting for us to drop, how do we meet that challenge?
Do we think “It’s too scary – I can’t?”
Or do we plunge or move carefully ahead thinking “I can?”
I do believe the simplicity of a 2 year old’s words and an old song can help us here…
Much Love,
Amy