Yesterday after school I found Caleb curled up by the couch, sobbing so hard he could hardly catch his breath. Alarmed, I gathered him into my arm, rubbed his back, and asked what was wrong.
"I was just imagining what it would be like to not have any parents."
Caleb feels sympathy to such an extent it borders on empathy. Empathy is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another, which usually means you have experienced the same thing. Sympathy is to feel sorrow or pity for another, which usually means you don't have direct experience but can understand their emotions. Caleb does not know what it would be like not to have parents around, but he was going through that experience in his mind with such vivid imagination that I think he was truly feeling that pain.
In him I see a very special gift. During moments like these, I gaze afar off into the future and wonder how these gifts will take shape in his life.
Thursday, 1 May 2014
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
A little bit of work
I had an interesting experience last week.
I was feeling all tapped out. Wednesday I wrote about how motherhood has been really hard lately and how Juliette has been using up all my attention and energy. Thursday morning in my small women's bible study group I poured out my heart a little more, praying for an answer. Within half an hour of getting home, the phone rang.
It was an friend from high school, someone who has been doing video work since university, with whom I did a small pro bono video a couple of years ago. As it turns out, the professional cinematographer from that video shoot was looking for an Assistant Director and remembered that he liked my work ethic. He called my friend, who called me.
All of a sudden I was being offered a small job, 4-5 days over a two week period. Then as we chatted more, it turned out they were also looking for a screenwriter, which I also had experience doing. I got off the phone pumped. I knew that daycare might take some juggling, but I also knew that many families have to work out daycare.
It seemed to be the perfect solution, and no doubt an answer to a desperate prayer. In 5 days of work I could earn a month's wage, I could get out of the house a little, and Juliette could spend some time with someone other than me. (This would also be good preparation for when James and I are away for two and a half weeks in June. Juliette has rarely spent any time without me around.)
I dove into the script immediately since the job was a last minute thing (starting this week). That part was easy. I was a little apprehensive about the daycare. I found a university student willing to come watch Juliette in our home. But was going out to work what I really wanted? Or was this a case of God giving in to what I wanted, even though it might not be right. I started questioning, doubting. If I have the luxury of staying at home, shouldn't I want to do that? Was this just a case of things getting hard and needing to endure? Or was this actually a good thing for me?
Alas, after five days, it all fell apart. The client cancelled the video. The director called me from New York with the news. Hopefully I will be compensated for the script, but anything further is a no-go. After it all, the experience has caused me to pause and reflect on the event, the circumstances, and my emotions.
I think that a few days a month of work, of some sort, will do me good. My good friend does daycare in her home, and would gladly take Juliette a few mornings a month. Initially I thought I would just work on some projects in the evening, but I realized that as a morning person, I'm toast by 8pm. I just don't have it in me to be productive at the end of the day. But first thing in the morning I am raring to go.
I have a few ideas, including some writing and a couple other leads. If another video shoot came up I would probably try to work it out. Hopefully as Juliette grows and her demands decrease I won't feel so depleted at home and desiring to get out. But for now, these few days just might be what I need to restore my sanity.
I was feeling all tapped out. Wednesday I wrote about how motherhood has been really hard lately and how Juliette has been using up all my attention and energy. Thursday morning in my small women's bible study group I poured out my heart a little more, praying for an answer. Within half an hour of getting home, the phone rang.
It was an friend from high school, someone who has been doing video work since university, with whom I did a small pro bono video a couple of years ago. As it turns out, the professional cinematographer from that video shoot was looking for an Assistant Director and remembered that he liked my work ethic. He called my friend, who called me.
All of a sudden I was being offered a small job, 4-5 days over a two week period. Then as we chatted more, it turned out they were also looking for a screenwriter, which I also had experience doing. I got off the phone pumped. I knew that daycare might take some juggling, but I also knew that many families have to work out daycare.
It seemed to be the perfect solution, and no doubt an answer to a desperate prayer. In 5 days of work I could earn a month's wage, I could get out of the house a little, and Juliette could spend some time with someone other than me. (This would also be good preparation for when James and I are away for two and a half weeks in June. Juliette has rarely spent any time without me around.)
I dove into the script immediately since the job was a last minute thing (starting this week). That part was easy. I was a little apprehensive about the daycare. I found a university student willing to come watch Juliette in our home. But was going out to work what I really wanted? Or was this a case of God giving in to what I wanted, even though it might not be right. I started questioning, doubting. If I have the luxury of staying at home, shouldn't I want to do that? Was this just a case of things getting hard and needing to endure? Or was this actually a good thing for me?
Alas, after five days, it all fell apart. The client cancelled the video. The director called me from New York with the news. Hopefully I will be compensated for the script, but anything further is a no-go. After it all, the experience has caused me to pause and reflect on the event, the circumstances, and my emotions.
I think that a few days a month of work, of some sort, will do me good. My good friend does daycare in her home, and would gladly take Juliette a few mornings a month. Initially I thought I would just work on some projects in the evening, but I realized that as a morning person, I'm toast by 8pm. I just don't have it in me to be productive at the end of the day. But first thing in the morning I am raring to go.
I have a few ideas, including some writing and a couple other leads. If another video shoot came up I would probably try to work it out. Hopefully as Juliette grows and her demands decrease I won't feel so depleted at home and desiring to get out. But for now, these few days just might be what I need to restore my sanity.
Saturday, 26 April 2014
Charity Work - Living outside our own little world
Today we had a great opportunity as a family to support one of Colin's best friends. Keagan, a charming and sweet 9 year old from school, shaved his head after raising funds for the "Cops for Cancer" fundraiser. He sold 289 t-shirts at $5 each, and raised an additional $600. That's over $2000.
Keagan's mother is a police officer, and told him the story of how Cops for Cancer started. A 5 year old boy in Western Canada was being teased at school because chemotherapy had caused him to lose all his hair. A police officer in the school heard the words from this little boy, and reassured him that "it's just hair." But that officer didn't stop there. He went home and shaved his own head. Then he returned to the school and announced in an assembly that if anyone wanted to tease someone because they were bald, they could tease him.
Keagan heard this story and was moved to do something, too. And when I heard it, I was moved. So we donned our t-shirts, packed up the kids and headed down to the city where Keagan stood on stage in the centre court of Square One (a major shopping mall) and had his head shaved.
As I stood with the boys, I talked with them about this. Keagan does not have cancer, and he hasn't been bullied. I asked the boys to think about why Keagan would shave his head if these issues don't directly affect him. The wheels were turning, and I hope that this experience will sit with them for years to come.
We enjoyed a great lunch out with Keagan's family after. When I approached James about spending a good chunk of our Saturday in this way, he not only saw the importance of showing the boys how to support good causes, but also how to support a best friend. "Friendships are forged through common experiences," James noted, and I readily agreed.
You never know when an experience will leave a lasting impression on you or your kids. I hope that as I provide opportunities like these for the kids to see love and charity in action it will start to leave a mark on their own hearts that will lead to action on their part.
Keagan's mother is a police officer, and told him the story of how Cops for Cancer started. A 5 year old boy in Western Canada was being teased at school because chemotherapy had caused him to lose all his hair. A police officer in the school heard the words from this little boy, and reassured him that "it's just hair." But that officer didn't stop there. He went home and shaved his own head. Then he returned to the school and announced in an assembly that if anyone wanted to tease someone because they were bald, they could tease him.
Keagan heard this story and was moved to do something, too. And when I heard it, I was moved. So we donned our t-shirts, packed up the kids and headed down to the city where Keagan stood on stage in the centre court of Square One (a major shopping mall) and had his head shaved.
As I stood with the boys, I talked with them about this. Keagan does not have cancer, and he hasn't been bullied. I asked the boys to think about why Keagan would shave his head if these issues don't directly affect him. The wheels were turning, and I hope that this experience will sit with them for years to come.
We enjoyed a great lunch out with Keagan's family after. When I approached James about spending a good chunk of our Saturday in this way, he not only saw the importance of showing the boys how to support good causes, but also how to support a best friend. "Friendships are forged through common experiences," James noted, and I readily agreed.
You never know when an experience will leave a lasting impression on you or your kids. I hope that as I provide opportunities like these for the kids to see love and charity in action it will start to leave a mark on their own hearts that will lead to action on their part.
Friday, 25 April 2014
The King inside
"Why won't he be the king I know he is, the king I see inside?"
- The Lion King
This line struck me down today. A simple kid's song, a little love song, and yet a profound idea.
Ten years into marriage, it's easy for things to get hard. We see the faults and failings more easily than the triumphs and successes. We are tired and worn out and short-tempered and take it out on those closest to us. Or we are tired and worn out and give little attention to the one most deserving of it.
We look at our partner and wonder why he won't stand up and do the long list of things, and be the long list of ideals. We have this view of the "king" we want him to be and wonder why on earth he won't be it?
First of all, I think those lists are long, unreasonable and frankly unrealistic. Sometimes they are filled with frilly things like putting laundry in the hamper instead of on the floor. I have complained of it a hundred times, as have all of my friends. But why do we get hung up on this one? Is it seriously the one attribute we really desire our husbands to have?
(One friend smashed this complaint for me. She said that every time she picks up his clothes, she tells herself that she is grateful she has a husband whose clothes she can pick up.)
So is the answer to this question that we should stop trying to change our husbands into someone better? No, I don't believe so. I think there really is an answer to "how do I change my husband?"
Let's turn it around for a second and reword this question: "Why won't she be the queen I know she is, the queen I see inside?" We all have limitless potential inside. There are many ways we could improve, do things better, have more energy and drive to move onward and upward. But what sparks us on? If my husband was standing in front of me telling me all the ways I could "be the queen he knows is in there somewhere" I would probably not respond very well. On a good day I would give him the silent treatment and a deadly stare. On a bad day it might be much worse.
But what if instead he simply started treating me like the queen he knows I am inside? Like the queen he saw me as when we were dating? Before he saw me wake up cranky in the mornings, hair askew and makeup smudged? Before I huffed over a messy house and complained about his long work days? If he treated me and spoke to me like a queen, it wouldn't take long before I developed the confidence of royalty.
And so, how can I help him "be the king I know he is, the king I see inside?" Treat him as if he were already that king outwardly. Honour the work he does. Praise and support the decisions he does make. Offer help to make combined family improvements. If I have lost view of the vision of the king I saw all those years ago, then the fault is lying in my own vision. Because let's be honest: he wasn't perfect back then either. I just saw him through rose-coloured glasses. And that wasn't a bad thing. It was a necessary part of helping him feel he had unlimited potential. Once we start doing this, I have a feeling we will see that king inside emerge in ways beyond our imagination.
- The Lion King
This line struck me down today. A simple kid's song, a little love song, and yet a profound idea.
Ten years into marriage, it's easy for things to get hard. We see the faults and failings more easily than the triumphs and successes. We are tired and worn out and short-tempered and take it out on those closest to us. Or we are tired and worn out and give little attention to the one most deserving of it.
We look at our partner and wonder why he won't stand up and do the long list of things, and be the long list of ideals. We have this view of the "king" we want him to be and wonder why on earth he won't be it?
First of all, I think those lists are long, unreasonable and frankly unrealistic. Sometimes they are filled with frilly things like putting laundry in the hamper instead of on the floor. I have complained of it a hundred times, as have all of my friends. But why do we get hung up on this one? Is it seriously the one attribute we really desire our husbands to have?
(One friend smashed this complaint for me. She said that every time she picks up his clothes, she tells herself that she is grateful she has a husband whose clothes she can pick up.)
So is the answer to this question that we should stop trying to change our husbands into someone better? No, I don't believe so. I think there really is an answer to "how do I change my husband?"
Let's turn it around for a second and reword this question: "Why won't she be the queen I know she is, the queen I see inside?" We all have limitless potential inside. There are many ways we could improve, do things better, have more energy and drive to move onward and upward. But what sparks us on? If my husband was standing in front of me telling me all the ways I could "be the queen he knows is in there somewhere" I would probably not respond very well. On a good day I would give him the silent treatment and a deadly stare. On a bad day it might be much worse.
But what if instead he simply started treating me like the queen he knows I am inside? Like the queen he saw me as when we were dating? Before he saw me wake up cranky in the mornings, hair askew and makeup smudged? Before I huffed over a messy house and complained about his long work days? If he treated me and spoke to me like a queen, it wouldn't take long before I developed the confidence of royalty.
And so, how can I help him "be the king I know he is, the king I see inside?" Treat him as if he were already that king outwardly. Honour the work he does. Praise and support the decisions he does make. Offer help to make combined family improvements. If I have lost view of the vision of the king I saw all those years ago, then the fault is lying in my own vision. Because let's be honest: he wasn't perfect back then either. I just saw him through rose-coloured glasses. And that wasn't a bad thing. It was a necessary part of helping him feel he had unlimited potential. Once we start doing this, I have a feeling we will see that king inside emerge in ways beyond our imagination.
Thursday, 24 April 2014
The tragic protagonist
Recently I was watching a television series where the leading character is a tragic protagonist. While he seemingly is surrounded by wealth, power, and people he slowly sinks further and further, grasping at that money and fame and popularity to save him, and yet nothing can.
I'm not sure if he is meant to be as tragic as I perceive him to be. I wonder that there aren't many viewers out there who view him as handsome, mysterious, lucky, albeit a little misguided or lost. I wonder if there are those who wish for his lot in life, for his job, his women, his money, his lifestyle. there are certainly enough scenes that highlight the Hollywood dream. Yet it is the moments in between, the dark shots and shadows, the stretching silences, that I latch onto.
I have always been fascinated with world religions. I think that the existence of so many explanations of where we came from, what our purpose is, and where we are going is proof of the existence of a spiritual plane. We yearn for these explanations because there is a dimension to humanity outside of the physical realm. For thousands of years we have filled it with stories, traditions, tales passed on through the ages. We search for truth, or float toward something that speaks to our experience, or devise an answer that satisfies our questions.
I heard the word liturgy used the other day in this definition: Liturgy comprises the gestures by which we honour transcendent reality. It helps us give concrete expression to deepest convictions. It gives us choreography for things unseen and allows us to brush heaven among the shades of earth. (Mark Buchanan, The Rest of God)
Religions have formed, rebelled, divided and reformed over the years mostly do to liturgy. People have a specific idea on how to reach out to the heavenly realm. Even disputes over doctrine seem remote. If this "God-shaped hole" in our hearts must be filled by the Creator, then all doctrine is an attempt to understand that creator and all liturgy is an attempt to honour that creator.
All over the world through all centuries people have tried to define our Designer to satisfy our minds and have woven spiritual habits to satisfy our spirits. I will not speak here to right or wrong; I just simply want to note that all of these belief systems stem from our desire to reconcile our deepest questions.
(A clause here that my interest in world religions and spirituality has been held to just that: interest. One day I hope to immerse myself in learning and studying, but for today, this is all written from a place of very little schooling in the subject.)
While many religions exist, each with their own doorway to knowledge and understanding, it seems the only path that doesn't lead upward is to reject them all. This tragic television character of which I spoke is a cultural mirror of exactly that: rejecting all sense of the spiritual nature of humanity and embracing the only the offerings of this world.
This world: a place that values endless pursuits of entertainment and pleasure. A place that worships self. A place that says your satisfaction and happiness are the only thing that matters. A place that offers substances to dull pain and increase pleasure and distract from tangible reality. A place that offers to fill your gnawing hunger while at the same time starving you from what you need. It is frightening to realize how instantly gratifying what this world offer is, and how cold the bathroom floor on which it leaves you in the morning.
As someone who leans toward intellect, I have often struggled with the "feeling" side of spirituality. I cannot reconcile myself to faith because it "feels right." However I have come to realize that logic and knowledge can exist on multiple planes, soaring above and beyond our earthly and natural capacities. I can find that joy and peace in faith without leaving intellect behind. I am grateful, blessed, lucky, to have escaped the chains of the tragic protagonist of today.
I'm not sure if he is meant to be as tragic as I perceive him to be. I wonder that there aren't many viewers out there who view him as handsome, mysterious, lucky, albeit a little misguided or lost. I wonder if there are those who wish for his lot in life, for his job, his women, his money, his lifestyle. there are certainly enough scenes that highlight the Hollywood dream. Yet it is the moments in between, the dark shots and shadows, the stretching silences, that I latch onto.
I have always been fascinated with world religions. I think that the existence of so many explanations of where we came from, what our purpose is, and where we are going is proof of the existence of a spiritual plane. We yearn for these explanations because there is a dimension to humanity outside of the physical realm. For thousands of years we have filled it with stories, traditions, tales passed on through the ages. We search for truth, or float toward something that speaks to our experience, or devise an answer that satisfies our questions.
I heard the word liturgy used the other day in this definition: Liturgy comprises the gestures by which we honour transcendent reality. It helps us give concrete expression to deepest convictions. It gives us choreography for things unseen and allows us to brush heaven among the shades of earth. (Mark Buchanan, The Rest of God)
Religions have formed, rebelled, divided and reformed over the years mostly do to liturgy. People have a specific idea on how to reach out to the heavenly realm. Even disputes over doctrine seem remote. If this "God-shaped hole" in our hearts must be filled by the Creator, then all doctrine is an attempt to understand that creator and all liturgy is an attempt to honour that creator.
All over the world through all centuries people have tried to define our Designer to satisfy our minds and have woven spiritual habits to satisfy our spirits. I will not speak here to right or wrong; I just simply want to note that all of these belief systems stem from our desire to reconcile our deepest questions.
(A clause here that my interest in world religions and spirituality has been held to just that: interest. One day I hope to immerse myself in learning and studying, but for today, this is all written from a place of very little schooling in the subject.)
While many religions exist, each with their own doorway to knowledge and understanding, it seems the only path that doesn't lead upward is to reject them all. This tragic television character of which I spoke is a cultural mirror of exactly that: rejecting all sense of the spiritual nature of humanity and embracing the only the offerings of this world.
This world: a place that values endless pursuits of entertainment and pleasure. A place that worships self. A place that says your satisfaction and happiness are the only thing that matters. A place that offers substances to dull pain and increase pleasure and distract from tangible reality. A place that offers to fill your gnawing hunger while at the same time starving you from what you need. It is frightening to realize how instantly gratifying what this world offer is, and how cold the bathroom floor on which it leaves you in the morning.
As someone who leans toward intellect, I have often struggled with the "feeling" side of spirituality. I cannot reconcile myself to faith because it "feels right." However I have come to realize that logic and knowledge can exist on multiple planes, soaring above and beyond our earthly and natural capacities. I can find that joy and peace in faith without leaving intellect behind. I am grateful, blessed, lucky, to have escaped the chains of the tragic protagonist of today.
Wednesday, 23 April 2014
Motherhood gets hard
I feel like I'm at a lot point in my motherhood journey these days. Juliette takes up my attention 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I have two hours at band on Thursday nights, and two hours at church on Sunday morning (when I run the kids program for 60 other kids) that I am apart from her. Other than that, she requires me. I lie with her in the afternoons to get her to nap, and I sleep with her from the time she goes to bed until morning to get her to sleep at night.
These days I seem to have no identity or purpose than being a mother to her. All my other responsibilities have to cram in around her, while I'm holding her, or while I'm listening to her tantrum because my task requires diverting my attention from her. It's exhausting, and frankly makes me wish I was working outside the home during the day.
I know that I am lucky to have the opportunity to stay home with my children. I have friends and siblings who wish they could. I am not ungrateful for this blessing, but these days are not looking like I wish they would. I have lost all my other identities: woman, artist, wife, sister, friend. Everything I do and am is only an appendage to "mother to two-year-old" right now. I feel distanced from so many things, like the perspective of my life is all skewed.
Mostly I mourn my relationship with James. It's hard to develop as a twosome when there is always a third wheel along for the ride. And if we do manage to have an hour in the evening when she's actually sleeping on her own in her room, then I can't even contemplate being in the proximity of another person.
I have a love-hate relationship with reading other people's blogs. Lately people have been writing of their wonderful marriages, of spending time together, dreaming together, supporting each other. I miss the early days of our marriage when it was just the two of us. I yearn to hike and bike and eat out and plan and dream and walk hand in hand. I know this is a different time of life and I love my children to bits. I just yearn for a time with a little more balance.
I think our trip to France in June is coming at just the right time. And while I'm worried about leaving Juliette for so long, I think it might be really helpful for both of us.
These days I seem to have no identity or purpose than being a mother to her. All my other responsibilities have to cram in around her, while I'm holding her, or while I'm listening to her tantrum because my task requires diverting my attention from her. It's exhausting, and frankly makes me wish I was working outside the home during the day.
I know that I am lucky to have the opportunity to stay home with my children. I have friends and siblings who wish they could. I am not ungrateful for this blessing, but these days are not looking like I wish they would. I have lost all my other identities: woman, artist, wife, sister, friend. Everything I do and am is only an appendage to "mother to two-year-old" right now. I feel distanced from so many things, like the perspective of my life is all skewed.
Mostly I mourn my relationship with James. It's hard to develop as a twosome when there is always a third wheel along for the ride. And if we do manage to have an hour in the evening when she's actually sleeping on her own in her room, then I can't even contemplate being in the proximity of another person.
I have a love-hate relationship with reading other people's blogs. Lately people have been writing of their wonderful marriages, of spending time together, dreaming together, supporting each other. I miss the early days of our marriage when it was just the two of us. I yearn to hike and bike and eat out and plan and dream and walk hand in hand. I know this is a different time of life and I love my children to bits. I just yearn for a time with a little more balance.
I think our trip to France in June is coming at just the right time. And while I'm worried about leaving Juliette for so long, I think it might be really helpful for both of us.
Bucket Drumming
It's hard to get into the kids' school very often with other little ones at home, but thanks to my supremely awesome friend and sister-in-law I have been able to bring some music programs to our school. Last fall I did a choir, and this spring we are doing bucket drumming.
(These photos were taken by the school secretary before we had the buckets out.)
I was nervous to start this club, as I am always nervous with something new. You never really know how things will go the first week or two. How fast will they take to the material? Will they speed through everything I know, or am I expecting too much? Will I spend the whole time trying to keep order, or will the respond well?
So far, bucket drumming (after two weeks) has been a fantastic success. We are learning some different rhythms, and our first song "Yuck!" I'm teaching everything by rote, which means they listen and watch and then repeat, instead of reading music. While an official music class would require learning to read music, I have more latitude in a club and can get right into some fun stuff. The kids are already asking if they can have a "spectacle" (concert) at the end of the year.
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