Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Shane initiated a mock game show, Be a Millionaire, with Owen tonight after supper. I missed some of the details but the gist of it was that Owen could win or lose exorbitant amounts of imaginary money for catching a specified number of disks. In the end they wagered all the money he had won (several billion dollars) for having all his heart desired. He won and was giddy with excitement. Every pore in his body was vibrating with enthusiasm. Then Shane (alias, Billy Billerson) upped the ante, asking Owen if he was willing to wager all his heart desires in exchange for the ability to give the people he loves what their hearts desired. If he lost, he lost everything and if he won, he would win it all. His face was serious and sweat rivulets streamed down his forehead. "I'll Do It!", he exclaimed. Shane (aka Billy) threw the disks and Owen caught them. He was jumping up and down. I don't think I have ever seen him so happy. He wouldn't play anymore after that. He said, "Thank you sir, but I am finished now" and skipped into the house. A few moments later he stood beaming at me. "Mom, I am gonna wish that no animals have to die if they don't want, or get poached or anything. And no one ever has to be hungry or homeless. I wish that there are no wars and people never kill each other. I wish that every person has their own heart's desire and if they want to be happy they will be happy. If they want to be sad they will be sad. Whatever their heart desires they can be, but they can not hurt anyone else- that they can never do." Absolutely satisfied and feeling secure in the world, he smiled up at me. That beautiful, beaming smile of a child, so full of hope and promise, of belief and purpose. He asked me, "What will you wish first mom?". "That's easy son, I wish that my boys experience a healthy, happy life, filled with their hearts desires".
"A good wish", Owen claimed smiling and skipped to his room. "A good wish", I said to myself smiling at the beautiful boy bouncing down the hall, "A good wish indeed".
Monday, August 27, 2007
Anyone who knows me, knows that I am entirely unable to sustain communication, written or conversed, without a heavy dose of authenticity. Today, I am seeing the world through the blurry vision of my bodies' eyes. I went to work this morning feeling fine, but by the time I picked up Bodhi I developed a strong sensation of vertigo combined with a mental fog and shaky extremities. These things are only peripherally new to me. I have been surprised by my body many times, both wonderfully and painfully, in the past several years. I have come to believe that inhabiting a body is an interesting thing. It is simultaneously, marvelous and confusing. Having physical maladies serve two fold. In one respect, they can engender a preoccupation, and identification, with the body and its sufferings. While on the other hand, physical pain offers a rare, present moment glimpse at how little we actually know about the body itself. This sort of awareness creates a spaciousness around which the expansiveness of our nature gathers, waiting for a fissure in the solidity of our self perception through which to shine. And so I write, dizzy, shaky, pissed and grateful, I write.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
We are hosting a BBQ today at 1:00 and already, I am exhausted. We have been cleaning and mowing since yesterday. It is so much fun and we are behaving like little kids getting ready for it. I love summer and friends. I love potlucks and BBQ's. I love it all.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Owen has been my backdoor teacher since the day he was born. He continually teaches me how to soften and open. The most recent lesson surrounds a gameboy. I have a distinct prejudice and unwavering dislike for the technological brain suckers and have long maintained that my children will not play with video games. I, however, am not the only parent and, in Illinois, Owen has the opportunity to play with gameboys, nintendos and a variety of videos. He loves them. He came home this time and I witnessed the pain and difficulty he was having transitioning from one lifestyle to another. I realized that my beliefs and ideals, although well researched and founded, didn't help him. I relinquished. The game boy arrived in the mail last week and although it has some stringent boundaries, he is happily playing Pokemon an hour a day. As for me, I comfort myself with the hope that my bending has a softening effect on the righteousness of my ideals and short circuits some of my control issues. I am learning... always learning.
Bodhi is fearless. He pulls himself up in precarious form, onto anything vertical. He then attempts to launch himself in the direction he wants to go. You read that correctly, he doesn't attempt a single step just throws his body toward his destination. The resulting fall rarely even phases him, while I am a blur of activity trying to redirect and distract. Whew! What a wild and wonderful boy.
Stage Direction: Phone Call
Owen: "Shane, Where is the tent? I want to put it up in the back yard".
Shane: "Sorry buddy, the tent is still in my car".
Owen: (Quiet, but dramatic crying) Okay, here's mom.
Shane: "Hon, I didn't take the tent out of the car. I could try to run it over later".
Mom: "No, it's okay we'll figure something out".
Owen: (Cries silently, but dramatically in the background).
Tadah! Mom steps into her Super Mom uniform and in a matter of minutes constructs a Bedouin inspired tent to rival any found in an REI catalogue.
Owen read 12 picture books and over 100 pages in Stardust,
while Bodhi had fun terrorizing the camp.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I silently scream into slumbering ears, too clouded with dreams to hear or respond.
I yell, drifting on cloud above snowbank, the earth below a revelry of expectation and sorrow.
I slumber on, gathering trinkets, like snowflakes, until I am heavy beneath a drift of possession and desire.
I holler, hoping for an avalanche, a frost or a sign. Days drift endlessly into the next, pitfalls along the path ahead.
I call. "Breathe in the mountain air, let go, relinquish, set free."
I slumber on, listening for the first sound of snow melt, the first signs of thaw, of Spring, of wakening.
Monday, August 13, 2007
My mom meditates in the woods staring at dog butts, offering sweat and dog treats on the altar of life. Now, care has worn a weary trail across her horizon, marring the landscape and making the way ahead less clear. So, in daughterly fashion, I ask anyone who reads this blog of mine to extend a wisp of grace in her direction, to lift and ease, to lighten and assist.
Thank you. May the God of Canines bless and restore you all.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
You do not need to leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
Do not even listen, simply wait.
Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice,
it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
- Franz Kafka
Saturday, August 11, 2007
We went to Shanes' class reunion last night. It was hilarious, surreal and thoroughly entertaining. Upon arriving I felt abit like I had stepped into a dream in which I was at a highschool party and didn't know anyone. It had the quality of discomfort that is usually associated with those underwear dreams in which you find yourself delivering a speech and suddenly realize you forgot to put your clothes on. As the night progressed, I became more at ease watching Shane interact with his past. His genuine beauty, humor and sincerity overcoming his prior unease. I felt like a voyeur enjoying a peek into the lives of familiar strangers. After several hours of hollering above the din of music and conservation, we left to pick up our boys. What we found was utter sweetness. Owen had put Bodhi to sleep, suggesting to Grandpa Ron and Mojo that he was a pretty good substitute for mom. Gathering them into our arms for the drive home, Shane and I felt more successful than our eighteen year old selves ever dreamt possible.
Friday, August 10, 2007
The botanical gardens are exquisite this time of year. Each flowering plant blossoms with a beauty calling out to the heavens through the fortunate eyes of unsuspecting onlookers.
Owen and I were in ecstasy and awe, continually commenting on the beauty. Eventually, Owen drifted into a pokemon induced imaginary wonderland and Bodhi began talking quietly to himself. I remained to enjoy the splendor in mock solitude.
Monday, August 6, 2007
It has begun.
Bodhi doesn't crawl so much as drag with efficiency.
I am exhasuted by the prospect of life with a mobile Bodhi. He responds to my harried countenance with a smile that reclaims me from the pit of uncertainty back, once again, into the celestial realms of his joy.
No one can make Bodhi laugh like his brother can. He laughs a deep guttural full bodied laugh that sends the entire family into hysterics. Physical humor tends to produce the greatest bang for the funny bone. And no one flings their arms and body through space like Owen.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Today I am a pillow, a very undesirable, beaten up, thrown across the room pillow, the color or earthen mustard. In my infinite wisdom, I decided to use some Gestalting techniques to help Owen to process his emotions. That is how I became the pillow. It seemed brilliant at the time. Owen took one look at the pillow-mom and his lips curled into a sneer, eyes narrowed into a death stare and fists clenched tight. I knew then that the mom-pillow was about to get pummeled and there was nothing I could do but watch. Not feeling like talking, he began to punch and yell. In good form I cheered him along, feeling a burning ache for the pillow-me who was undoubtedly black and blue beneath her fluffy veneer. After a prolonged throwing and crying spree, he decided to smash the pillow-mom. Choosing only the largest and heaviest art books, he stacked them, unceremoniously, one on top the other until there was no breath left in the pillow. He smiled then. Satisfied. I, like my pillow self, was breathless. I suggested that we put mom back on the wall and talk to the Dad pillow. He agreed. The Dad pillow got only tears and when I suggested that he may be angry at the Dad pillow. He walked slowly up to him and lightly flicked the corner before hurrying back to the couch, while mom-pillow, having just received another kick, watched helpless, from her rumpled vantage.
Looking once more at the mom-pillow, Owen said with tears in his voice, "The divorce is all your fault, you are the reason I can't be with my Dad, or play my game-boy anymore, I hate you". With that he ran off. Leaving a flattened, defeated pillow and mother staring after him.
OWEN IS BACK! To celebrate we surprised him with front row tickets to the Cirque Du Soleil performance of Corteo. It was beyond fabulous! It was beauty, art, music and brilliantly, spectacular acrobatics. As I watched the contortionists bending, twirling and dancing with utter grace, I thought "This is what we have become, emotional contortionists". We are reconfiguring our lives again, Owen's heart is sad right now and the family dynamic is shifting and circling to find balance. I hope that with practice we will learn to do it with the grace and beauty exhibited beneath the big tent. Until then we will do our best.
Bodhi the biker.
We finally got our Burley up and running behind mamas bike. Bodhi loves it. He spends the first half of every ride talking to himself and enjoying the bubbling bouncing sounds that the bumps in the road engender. The next half is spent slumbering with his head on his shoulder and a binky firmly rooted in his mouth. As for me I love the wind in my face again and the exercise of it all. Now we only need to convince Owen that he really wants to learn to ride a bike. Wish us luck.