A quick series of shots of Terra running her first Awesome 3000 fun run here in Salem. The event takes place every year. Terra ran with a special needs group. They ran approximately 300 meters. It was a sight to behold, touching, and inspiring. My little sweetheart just went all out. That's Michi running with her. Phoenix also ran at the Awesome 3000. I'll post those pics later.
Terra turned 4 last Saturday! Woohoo! Time has certainly flown by... Amazing ain't it? At first the doctors (geneticists) thought she would not 
live past her first year. She's certainly proven that assessment wrong. Then again, I hope she has plenty of room to grow and learn and develop. We keep working on as many areas as we can to make sure she's OK, and will be fine should anything happen to us. All that we can't control comes up so clearly when we start thinking about such things. The only recourse is to focus on the now.
Here's a pic from the party (at a local park). A friend of ours gave her a shirt that says "I have more chromosmes than you do!" Quite cute. I will be making a t-shirt that says "Chromosomally-Gifted." Quite different ways to convey the message. I'll post more pics to a new album in a few days.
I'm thinking of a few changes to WoodMoor Village, and one of those might be putting up a CafePress set up t-shirt for Terra, with Chromosomally Gifted, and perhaps another with Super-Chromosomally-Expialidocious. We'll see. Watch this space as they say.
Poor little Terra had to have some serious dental work a few weeks ago, and I think it is just now that she's 
getting adjusted to the new situation. Apparently, Terra's two front teeth were in pretty bad shape. The Dentist recommended removing those teeth (she'll be four in late May, so it is not unheard of to remove teeth this early, but it is also not common I gather). With Terra that is a big project. They had to put her under to do the procedure, which ended up being more than the removal of her two front teeth (her roots were almost non-existent). Ultimately they took out the two front teeth, put in seven new caps, and four fillings. You can imagine how cranky she was when she woke up, and how sore her mouth and face must have been. In fact, she had plenty of trouble sleeping the first few nights, and Tylenol with codeine did not seem to help much. We were worried that, with her condition, she would be so totally thrown off when she realized she did not have front teeth anymore. It is not as if explaining the reasons is straightforward with Terra. She just would not understand the situation and could not communicate any concerns very well to us. These are serious concerns for parents of children with special needs like Terra. So, lots of holding her, and making sure she got lots of loving, as she always does. I think she's getting used to it, and to renewed challenges in eating. She looks pretty cute too.
One of the phrases that Terra has mastered, and which she uses quite often, is "help me." Now, it comes out more like an "ep me," and even "hep me," but it is clear what she means, and, the cry being so plaintive, it is impossible to refuse, it is impossible not to drop everything one is doing and respond.
The problem is that her requests for help are quite often just calls for attention of some sort, or minimal cries for assistance with a toy, etc. Still, they are no less compelling. Her tiny voice, chipped and 
fragmented as it is, with those eyes just staring, powerfully inflected by such need is enough to melt our hearts (imagine the silent cries of kittens here). It is amazing how she's not only learned that phrase so well, and to use it so aptly, but also how she's learned to adopt a posture of supplication, of needy-ness, as a way to pull at our heart-strings. Savvy little girl. : )
The other day my wife and I were talking about what would happen to Terra if we bought the farm. She'd of course, have lots of room to run around and play, not to mention that since she loves animals she would have a blast feeding them, etc. But it wasn't that kind of farm. We've made arrangements with family for such an eventuality. We are working on a trust fund for health care also (one where family can contribute funds to, we certainly don't have the money). But this is definitely an area that we worry about, because Terra doesn't spend much time with members of our family and they don't understand how she communicates, her habits, needs, and so forth. For instance, a funny thing she does: she will come close to you with something in her hand, ostensibly for you to help her in some way. She will proceed to hold this item close to you, extending her hand as if to give it to you, making noises that you interpret mean "here dad look at this, isn't it cool,?" and at which point you reach for it and say something like "oh, how nice Terra, a hammer." She will smile and hold it close and then insist you see it and reach for it again, only to snatch it away again and walk away happily as your hand barely makes contact with the item. We keep falling for this all the time.
That's pretty simple, but being primary caregivers makes us sensitive to her little idiosyncracies and needs, little tidbits here and there that we know others just won't understand. It is somewhat comforting to know that if something happens to us her brothers will be able to "ep her," and hold her close to their hearts.
Editorial Note: If you recall one of my New Year resolutions was to post more about Terra -- perhaps as prelude to finally starting a blog about her, and about her condition. This entry started as a note to family that my wife wrote about a week ago. I've modified it slightly. You can tell the difference in 
voice. If you recall Terra was diagnosed three years ago with Trisomy 9 Mosaic, and Cerebral Palsy as a result of that. The blog we want to put together would provide information about Trisomy 9 Mosaic, provide resources for other parents with children who have that condition, and be a place in which Terra's evolving little story can be shared with family and friends. There is a need for sites like that, and certainly for informing folks about Trisomy 9 Mosaic (not much info. out there, and the medical literature is very negative)
First of all, we (the whole family) are learning sign language! It is very slow in coming, but Terra is finally very excited about it and is catching onto the idea of communicating with her hands. We have found an amazing video (Signing Times that teaches all of us signs and has some great video with music, kids, etc. So far, we have 3 volumes and are trying to “master” those so to speak before we move on to the others (they have 13 altogether). One of the reasons I advocated for Phoenix to attend the school he’s at is because they have deaf and hard of hearing kids there. So, he has a sign language translator in his class every day and gets a signing class three times/week. Although he doesn’t know a ton of signs, he sure gets the idea and is exposed to sign language on a regular basis. And, the teachers there are amazing resources for us as we tackle this new project.
I'll be at a conference starting tomorrow, which means I won't post until I get a chance sometime later this week. Lots happening, just not enough time and energy to sit at the keyboard and post. The last three days have been rather sad. First, my grandmother dies on Saturday. On Sunday I hear of one of my students (from a few semesters ago, but still attending the University) passed away after a brief but intense battle with a particularly virulent form of ALS. Today I received a call from a friend, crying... they found breast cancer and a not-so-good-looking spot on her liver. Those news fill you with a sense of foreboding -- what else is coming down the line?
One of my current students stopped by today, sad and crying over our mutual friend that died, and she said that every year she has been at the University somebody close to her has died. I told her that the older she gets the more people she knows will pass away. She said her dad told her the same thing. Yes. I did mention impermanence, interbeing, and grieving, and that no matter what, it just doesn't seem fair, nor purposeful in-and-of-itself. But... what can she make of it? what can we make of it together? With all the pain, grief, and sadness rolled into it, how can we transform it, add meaning, and compost that suffering for the wellbeing of others? And so we are connected in death, in this endless cycle of being and becoming and hopefully transformation, always not knowing.
As I usually do before I go away on a trip. I spent some time with Phoenix while he was ready to go to sleep and told him how much I love him. I told him, I love you always, forever. I'll always be in your heart. The magical incantation I call it. We seek refuge so much in that when death strikes close. I say those words to him always, but they always seem a special kind of talisman after just such a reminder of our finality -- when we are reminded that all we have is for naught and what I can offer him is peace of mind, a heart full of love, the memory of being loved and trusting in that love to fill his heart with gladness that will help him always. What else can I truly offer him?
Here's Phoenix on his new as of this Summer Giant Frantic singlespeed bicycle. Looks good eh? He's had it now for most of the Summer. and it has been a boon to his riding. The bike is a 20-inch wheeled bike, a jump for him, but he is growing fast. Now, I did a lot of research on bikes for kids and 
let me tell you there's just not great info. out there. Sure, there is enough information on the basics of buying a bike for children, but hardly any great info. in the form of user reports and comparisons. Doing a search on the Giant Frantic (for reviews, etc.) pretty much yielded sales sites with the marketing boilerplate offered by the manufacturer. Still if you know a bit about bikes you can tell what is worthwhile or not (but what if you are not?). What I wanted was user reports and comparisons between different bikes. I didn't find one. So... here's a bit of advice for anybody else who might be looking to buy a bycycle for a 7-year old.
We researched Giant, Marin, Novara (REI sold bikes), Specialized, Trek, and a host of other bikes from Schwinn, to Huffy's and many other brands from toy stores. The Giant, Marin, Novara, Specialized, and Trek bikes are all good bikes, as were the Marin and Specialized, although these last ones were too expensive, and the Trek's too big for Phoenix. The Novara Dirt Rider SS is a good choice ($159), similar to the Giant Frantic ($159). The Frantic comes with mudguards, and two free years of service where we bought it, but if you are an REI member you do get the dividend on the purchase of the Novara. The Schwinn's, like the Huffy's, were too big, bulky, and heavy, but the Schwinn Aerostar 2005 is in the same price range ($149) as the Frantic and the Novara, although it seems a bit heavier, and the frame a bit more unwieldly. If you have the money to spend, check out the Marin's (but they are not singlespeed bikes).
Big caveat: we researched boy bikes. The information that follows applies generally to the purchase of boy or girl bikes, but you should do specific research for the bike you need and for the type of riding your child will do.
As I said in the previous post, the trip to Bend, OR was just wonderful. I'm not big 
on car camping, but it is fun to do activities with the kids, and Phoenix seems to have enjoyed himself plenty. We started by camping in Tumalo State Park. The park was merely a launching pad for other activities, as it is fairly limited in offerings. Still, from there we visited Bend, checked out their Farmer's Market, their new (for us) Old Mill District, and otherwise just visited the town.
We also visited the High Desert Museum, located about seven miles south of Bend. Bend and surrounding areas happen to be High Desert, and the museum does a good job of capturing the flora, fauna, cultural history, heritage, and resources of the High Desert. The museum was well worth checking out, and their live re-enactment of an old west sawmill was nothing short of cool. Phoenix was completely glued to that part of the museum. We also stopped by the Deschutes river, where Phoenix and Terra Lynn had the opportunity to cool down a bit (the water was freezing!).
Sign in a local used books bookstore. Cultivating mindfulness in the parents...
Here's Phoenix of the Basketball Bodhisattva's sporting the classic no-front-teeth look. Apparently this no-front-teeth look is a requirement for basketball players at this age, and is the latest style.
What was truly enlightening yesterday at Phoenix's basketball game however, was how quickly life lets us know the difference between intellectualizing "paying attention" vs. actually doing so.
Phoenix, like many other kids, spends a lot of time practicing making baskets. At any one time during practice or warm-ups there are quite a few kids shooting the ball at the basket, and balls going every which way. Unfortunately, not all of them remember that with so many balls up in the air, a few of them are likely to come down right where they happen to be standing. So... yesterday as Phoenix was hanging around the court, a ball smacked him on the left side of his face. It was not too hard, but he wasn't happy. So I dutifully reminded him that he had to remember where he was, and that with so many balls up in the air he couldn't very well just not pay attention... and Wham! right at the moment when I was at the height of parental conceit a ball comes out of nowhere and slams into the left side of my face, sending my glasses flying, and leaving me stunned hearing a disembodied Lin Chi sounding voice saying: "Fool! Open mouth first mistake! Paying attention is not about thinking about it!"
I had to scramble to get my glasses (not easy to do when you are blind, and hearing voices in your head) before any of the kids crushed them (the legs had already been bent enough). I got a bruise and a small scratch on the bridge of my nose (and a sore face), but I was able to enjoy the game better. That basketball truly awakened me and I watched the rest of the game without judging. Funny way to wake up to the moment, but well deserved.
I wrote the following as a comment to a question at Gareth's Green Clouds. I thought I'd also post it here for my later revision.
The issue of how to teach kids about meditation, and mindfulness is always ongoing. Kids change so much, and so rapidly, that one has to keep on one's toes in terms of meeting them "where they are at." This is much more the case if the kids have never been exposed to meditation before. It is a bit easier now to talk to my 6 year old because he's been seeing me practice, and hearing both of us talk it, all his life. He goes to sleep with guided meditations so he knows the vocabulary and some practices also. But again, it seems that he changes likes and dislikes, etc. from week to week, so an attempt to bring meditation to kids lives has to take stock of how their emotional selves are developing quickly, profoundly, and at times seemingly wildly!
Belly over at Welcome to my Revolution has a very sweet post on her 
little "weebelly" (yes, it is a term of art), and winter solstice, and how her little one is her greatest teacher. I cannot help but agree wholeheartedly. I love Belly's post, the pic of her child, and the "weebelly" name! Belly notes that motherhood changed her, awakening her to such love and learning. I'm not a mom, but as a dad I agree completely. As I posted at Belly's -- I've been a dad now for a while (I have an 19 year old, a 6 year old, and a 2.5 year old). My kids are definitely my most amazing source of practice, of awakening, of learning, of love, and caring, and tears, and unconditional giving of myself. It seems to me that it didn't even take two minutes since they were born for that to start happening!
Well, here's a picture of my own "weebelly" Terra Lynne providing instruction on how to awaken and invite the bell. I hope Belly doesn't mind my using that term.
Funny thing, as they get older... say 16 and on... things can change a bit. : ) Well, you still love them and want to just hug them and snuggle, but they test you, that they do. An 18-19 year old tests like no other creature I've encountered! *smile* : ) After tears, frustration, losing more of my non-existent hair, I just love right back. Just love, just love, just love. That's all I can think that works. Oh, do visit Belly's Welcome to My Revolution and read her post.
As we stopped to reflect on Thanksgiving, I spoke to Phoenix of our need to truly stop and think about how we live like Kings. Compared to many in the world, I said, we lack nothing. We have all we need, our concerns end up being about things we want to bring us more comfort. He really did stop and pay attention to our conversation. We spoke a bit more about what others might need, and he initially said “money.” After a bit of conversation about how we might be able to give other things besides money, we decided that since we had written a list of things we wanted for Christmas, we also ought to write a list of things we can give, and a list of things for which we are grateful. So we did both, and I hope we'll do so often.
My wife said the other day that she thinks our daughter Terra has more of me in her. I don't know, but if she does, it is visible in her exhuberance, her energy, enthusiasm, and a bit of "wildness." Terra 
seems to have a happy-go-lucky disposition, and at times an absent-mindedness that reminds me of my own scholarly introspection and forgetting about other things. I guess at 2 years old and a few months, Terra can't really be absent-minded. Her Trisomy 9 Mosaic, her Cerebral Palsy, does affect her cognition, and that's what I am referring to when I say absent-minded.
We are trying hard to protect her left eye. Her right eye is amblyopic and apparently bad. Well, both eyes have problems. According to one doctor, her left eye has a problem with an optic nerve and thus she can't move it to the left side. I think the doctor called this Duane's syndrome. So, she has poor peripheral vision on that side because she realy can't move her eye that way. Her right eye is just plain bad, very poor vision. Apparently her optic never is bad there. It also tends to slide inwards. We are supposed to be patching the left eye, so that she will be forced to use her right eye, in the expectation that such an effort will improve her vision in the right eye. We'll see. She hates the patching, and it is almost like torturing her to place that patch. At the same time, we have to protect that left eye. The doctor warned us that if anything happens to that left eye, she can be left just blind, as it is likely that she will never get any better sight in the right eye. Unfortunately, with such vision, she misses things, has no binocular vision so no depth perception, bumps into things, trips and falls, etc. With a six-year old brother that loves to swing things around in the house... Sometimes it pushes one's mindfulness. : )
Two days ago I had yet another conversation with Phoenix about death and dying. He said the same thing he had said in our previous conversation: "Dad, I don't want to die, but I know I have to." I suspect that this formulation he heard somewhere in those kid classes at the Unitarian Universalist church that my wife attends. That is not necessarily a bad thing, but I hope he remembers or thinks about more than just that. So, we talked again about how life is fragile and unpredictable. We can die of disease, accidents, etc., but that we can also try to take care of ourelves as much as possible, and lead good lives. The part of the conversation which has proven to be hardest is not the facing up to death, but rather explaining to him that the best counter for feelings of sadness about impending death is to love fully, to be compassionate individuals, and live the best possible life we can so that we find joy in a life well lived, worthy of rest (as Chaim Potok said), pouring ourselves into others as we do that.
I'm pretty sure he won't choose this outfit. He seems to be much more into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, etc. But we haven't figured this out yet. He does look adorable though.
So, Michelle is going away for a few days and I'm staying home with the kids and all that entails. I don't know what all that entails, but we'll find out. In any case, she is pretty confident that I will do well, whereas our other friends always seem so surprised. The women don't seem to trust the husbands in taking care of the kids, the husbands are in awe, although a few don't seem to believe this is possible and remain sane.
In any case, this morning as I was doing something and she was getting ready to take Phoenix to school, Michelle said, "you know, you should be taking notes for when I'm gone this weekend." So, I did. I pulled out a pad and started taking notes. These are some of my notes:
This morning Phoenix woke up at 5:45am and came downstairs. I was already up, and got him a 
popsicle. Phoenix is the King of Popsicles, no doubt about it. I don't think there has ever been a day when he has not eaten at least a few popsicles! Well, this morning he sat on my lap, we covered ourselves with a blanket and practiced eating that popsicle really mindfully. I guided him gently through a process of mindfully savoring the popsicle, paying full attention to it, to the sweetness, the coolness, and so on. He loved it, and he truly practiced it. I even showed him how I enjoy eating a piece of chocolate, savoring every bit by letting it melt in my mouth, and so on. It was a very nice morning indeed, and we discovered a nice way to practice.
A Bit of Background
Phoenix is a boy full of energy, and the teacher and doctor thought that he had mild Attention Deficit Disorder. He might, who knows, but I know that my wife and I were quite resistant to putting him on medication. If anything he has some moments in which he is more hyper than others, but that seems normal to me. Still, we were looking at a whole bunch of issues that pointed toward attention deficit. We did lots of research, tried other dietary approaches, and spent considerable time talking with the doctor. Our doctor is indeed very good, and we agreed to at least try a medication during the Summer for a little while in order to see how it would affect him. Our concern revolved around whether he would be ready for first grade, and whether he would be able to sit still and pay attention for that full day.
Continue reading "Popsicle Practice for the King of Popsicles" »
The last post generated some interesting conversations. I hope they continue. It also obtained a response from Kenley about Family Dharma and our experiences with our family practice. Family practice is perhaps the primary thing I do! Always trying to come up with new things to do and practice. My days of mindfulness are decidedly family practice days. In any case, Kenley asks an important question:
How do others include children and also have time for themselves?
This questions sounds almost like a Koan! And perhaps that is the spirit in which we ought to take it, since I suspect that there is never a final answer to it. We try to do activities that involve all of us. My wife stays at home with the kids, and I work full time with strange schedules always, so we don't separate much from the kids. We also are inclined toward attachment styles of parenting. But by all means let us continue this conversation.
In any case, let us indeed continue discussing about family dharma/family practice. As always, I like to hear from folks who have young children, but anybody is more than welcome. Here are my posts categorized under Family Dharma. I have three kids, Phoenix (6 yo), Terra (2.2 yo), and Alex (18 yo). They are a joy, practice, and most definitely doors to the dharma. The 18yo doesn't practice, but the 6 yo is quite savvy about these things.
I've been collecting some thoughts and notes for a family dharma post, but I have not had time to work on it. Way too many other deadlines coming up. But here is the skeleton for it, and perhaps we can all help fill it out.
Oh, what a great morning it has been! Phoenix finally learned how to ride his bike on his own without 
training wheels! He was so ready for this, but was very reluctant to try. So, we had a nice conversation this morning about how we have to believe and trust in ourselves, and about how much I believe he could do this.
So we got to the park, met his friends, who had bikes and a nice little pedal-powered Kett car. Phoenix did not want to ride his bike without training wheels, but then he notice that all his friends left him behind and went riding. So, he decided to give it a shot, and soon after was riding on his own and happy go lucky!
We still need to practice braking well, and controlling the bike in turns, standing on the pedals, steering between objects, and so on... not to mention the slalom techniques, the cone weave, the wheelies, the standing on the seat, carrying other kids in the handlebars, and the classic "look Ma, no hands," technique...! Naw, just kidding, but this is just the beginning of many biking adventures no doubt -- along with some nasty falls. He already asked me to tell him all my stories about falling off the bike. Plenty of those to tell.
The place where we went is a nice big park with lots of paths, but many of these paths are bounded by Blackberry bushes. In case you haven't seen Blackberry Bushes, imagine amazingly large brambles growing in every direction with razor sharp thorns that snake out just to get you... Then again, you do get the Blackberries. A little pain, a little joy. The Blackberry bushes had the effect of keeping Phoenix steering carefully in the middle of the path, and thus helping him learn to control the bike better. So, all in all, a truly great day. He already wants me to take him riding again this afternoon, so I think we're in for some biking every day.
Music in my head during all this: "This is the Day," by The The
Our little Terra Lynne. She has defied many expectations -- starting with the doctor's warning that kids 
with her condition often did not last past their first year! We had a big party when she had her first birthday.
She has blossomed and thrived, and is one happy-go-lucky sweet little girl. She walks, even runs along, well mostly hops and dashes forward in a kind of uncontrolled motion, momentum action. She is not speaking much yet, although she verbalizes a great deal. It just doesn't make sense to us yet. But she can communicate alright. She's been learning to blow kisses (she sometimes puts her hand over her eye, makes the smack-kissing sound, and lifts her arm), she is quite the hugger also, and has learned to pinch and goes after Phoenix mercilessly. And she has this beautiful head of curly red hair, all natural.
Unfortunately, our insurance has informed us that they are cutting her Occupational Therapy. That's a blow. She needs it, and OT has been a lifeline, very helpful indeed. She has made great progress, but still needs plenty of attention, and we just can't afford to cover the expenses for that. Heck, we can't even cover the expenses for her speech therapy. Insurance, Insurance woes. Plenty to post about that for later. In any case, we hope other kids in need will get the coverage. There is plenty of need out there.
Having a child with special needs truly presents us with opportunities for practice though. My worries about what her future will be like, about impermanence (as well as she is doing, doctors still say that anything can happen with children with rare chromosome conditions), about the cost of her care, etc. But it is joyful to hold her, play with her, see her discover the world around her, and most definitely rock her to sleep while chanting practice chants/songs. She is also quite a daddy's girl. My curly headed baby.
Kathryn, over at A Mindful Life, has a neat entry showing one of her altars at home. Neat and simple. I grew up around folks that had altars also, although of the Christian tradition, somewhat "spiritist" (concerned with spirits and the help of spirits or saints in daily life). But I commented at Kathryn's that seeing her altar gave me an idea for family practice. My son and I often collect little things we find, mostly rocks from the beach, shells, etc. (He likes leaves and sticks), and we put them in a small space behind our place, or we spend time with them, painting them, looking for shapes, talking about nature. 
The other day we found a great fish-shaped rock at the beach and he painted it when we got home. I think it would be nice to expand that and creat a special place in the house where we can put some of those things we collect, pictures of loved ones, dear friends, things he finds moving or significant, or that speak to his young heart and mind somehow of interconnectedness and deep bonds of love. For instance, he has a picture of he and his brother that he likes a lot.
I know he would like that, and would give us time to talk about things and enjoy building something together, not to mention exploring and finding things. Looking at the collected items and talking about how they interconnect I'm sure will be fun and a neat way to highlight our practice.
Then again, as I noted at Kathryn's, this ought not help us escape the fact that it is with people we dislike or with our more challenging dimensions that we ought to practice the most. A space to help us consider deeply those others would also be helpul. So perhaps we need a place for "work in progress" or "contemplating in process." I think that would be helpful, at least as a way to introduce those ideas of embracing with mindfulness those things we don't like also. Of course, perhaps the best practice for us adults is to watch constantly how we speak or behave about ourselves, others, and so forth. I'm thinking of how we might read the newspaper and say, "dang it, those damn people again, just don't..." while our children watch, listen, absorb.
So, just a few days ago I was putting my son to bed, and after reading a few books, and turning on some soft music (sometimes I put on some relaxing Bossa Nova, or other soothing rhythms), he surprised me by saying; "Dad, I don't want to die, but I know I'll have to." Wow. I had no clue where that was coming from, but I said, "yeah, I don't think anybody wants to die," but it is part of life. There's no life without it." From there we went on to talk about the importance of how we live our life, and trying to stay healthy, etc., as a way to prolong our life, but also how we just don't know what could happen at any time. That seemed to settle that. He didn't mention it again, nor has he since. But I was thrown off. This was not what I expected as part of the nightime settling-in-bed conversation.
I asked my wife about it the next day, and she said that he had been asking her about death all day long. Well then, I said, I guess the subject has arrived. No matter what, I think this is a tough subject for parents. It is sad. Not sad about envisioning your child dying -- that goes without saying. But sad about that existential angst taking center stage in the mind of your child, knowing that it won't ever go away. We do everything we can to push that existential realization away, and most of our lives are spent denying death or pushing the thought aside. But in the back of our heads we always know. It is there waiting for us, and sometimes in moments of loss (somebody else dies, we have a close brush with it, etc.), it comes back to haunt us. Then we make all sorts of promises about how we are going to make life count... and so on.
The truth is that, as Ernesto Laclau once said, "things that haunt us for their absence are indeed very much present." We have to learn to live with that impermanence, and to do so consciously and purposefully. Don Cuppit makes this point well in his essay titled, "Learning to Live With One Foot in the Grave." Ironic that impermanence seems a rather permanent fact, no?
The realization of his own death, of his not being able to avoid it, has entered my child's mind. Perhaps, at almost 6, his death doesn't occupy as much of his time as it does mine. But then again...
This will sound silly but it was a good moment for me. On the second floor of our place we have a small hallway with a mid-size bookcase at the end. Terra likes to sit in front of the hallway and pull books out of the bookshelf and throw them all over the place. This goes on all the time. We pick the books up because otherwise she'll slip on them and fall. But it is often that I come up and find the mess of books all over the floor.
I sigh when I see it, and I wonder, why does she have to do this? I clean it up, only to find it all messed up again a bit later. The mess is bothersome, not just because of having to pick it all up, but because I have a distorted sense of what the proper order should be. So, I finally sat down in mindfulness yesterday and it only took moments of looking deeply to realize that my sense of order gets in the way of mindfulness. The fact is that I am attaching to a sense of bookshelves and books having to be neat and tidy, when in fact it is far more likely that they will be in flux. For instance, the bookshelves in my office are never neat and tidy. I always have books "in process." Pictures of bookshelves in homes or stores, or libraries, always depict a particular "state of order" and we buy into that order.
There is no particularly correct way or state for these to be in. It might be far more correct to recognize that "what the heck" -- if anything books are likely to be in an intermediate stage, in, out, and in-between. But truly, that explanation is just another way my mind plays with me: assuming I am mindful just because I repress the feelings that emerge under this thin blanket of "practiced or affected mindfulness." Mindfulness is not saying "what the heck."
In fact, I believe we are all goaded by a sense or order, of perfectibility (to paraphrase Kenneth Burke), that makes us suffer when things do no match our expectations. Yet, the point is that looking deeply allowed me to confront the impermanence of my expectations, of my sense of order. This was a recognition of how fragile that sense of order is, and with the piety (devotion) that I develop to it (and others). Sure, I don't want the books all over the place. Terra can slip and get hurt. I'd rather not pick them up all the time. But I don't have to attach to my sense of order in the same way I was before. I pick the books up, teach her, make changes to the bookcase so that there are not so many books for her to throw around... and I cultivate love for her every time I pick them up. It is not about restoring my sense of order, but about seeing it for what it is and making sure that I don't attach to it nor use that attachment to water seeds of anger, frustration, or resentment. Only then can I say that I'm being mindful, and embrace myself and Terra with that mindfulness.
A while back I posted an entry on a PoemWalk I took with my son Phoenix. Out of that poemwalk we wrote a neat little poem. Well, last Sunday we decided we would take a Photowalk. 
And we are working on a little photo journal of that walk. Phoenix and I both had our cameras (he had a Nikon Coolpix 4200), and we went to a wooded park area in West Salem, OR. We walked a bit in mindfulness and took pictures of things that struck us, that we found beautiful or intriguing.
The idea was to spend a bit of mindful time together in the woods. It was a great success. We walked quietly listening to the birds. We stopped a few times and got very silent as we spied a Steller's Jay and other birds. We paid close attention to nature, talked about snakes, about hiking boots, about the environment, about safety, and we both took some pictures. We had a splendid time. You can see his pictures by following this link to Phoenix's Photowalk 1. You can also get there by scrolling down and selecting Phoenix's Photowalk 1 from the WoodMoor Albums drop down menu on the right hand column.
This was a great activity, with no need for special equipment of any sort. A disposable camera (digital or APS) from the grocery store will do wonders. They are easy to manage for the little ones, and they do a relatively good job. Sometimes a great job. Phoenix and I plan to sit down and look over the pictures and talk a bit more about what we thought and felt, and how keeping a photo journal is an interesting way to compose and express, give voice, to various things. I hope it is another door to the dharma, where the dharma is just mindfulness leading to a sense of interconnectedness.
Just being silly. Remember the song "The World's Address" by They Might be Giants (TMBG)? Cool song, so what is the Pope's Address now? Hmmmm. In any case, the guest opinion came out on The Statesman Journal here.
Have had a tough time for posting. School's being busy, our little girl just had to have major dental work (two crowns, eight fillings, 3 or 4 sealants, etc.). The doctor thought he may have to do some baby root canals! This to a 22 month old girl. She also has an ear infection, (the second one in three and a half or four weeks), and my son just was diagnosed with Bacterial Pneumonia. We haven't been getting much sleep! But boy, does that bring out the mindfulness practice. Last night Terra was up for 3 hours, starting around midnight. Lots of crying, nothing seemed to work. Gave her all the needed meds. Still, those moments try one's patience, but I realized in the midst of it that I might as well practice mindful walking as I try to get her to sleep. That was in and out, but the practice of going from frustration to breathing out and letting go, to frustration, to trying to let go, to frustration... was indeed my practice.
I've been on Spring Break. But no Ft. Lauderdale for me. No Cancun, and no Girls Gone Crazy/Guys Gone Crazy kind of experience. Not that I would want it either. Instead it has been a wonderful week, if a bit tough at times. It started with my wife going on an all women retreat with the Unitarian Universalist church she's been attending. I was alone with both kids, and that was a treat in itself, although we did not get to do that much over the weekend. Nightime was chaos. My son (6 in July) stayed up until I could get Terra (22 months) to sleep. Well, Terra was not in a good mood at all because her mommy, whom normally nurses her to sleep, was nowhere to be found of course. Yikes, both nights she fought about going to bed. What's worse, she is used to nursing throughout the night, so she was up and up, and well, I was up also. My son on the other hand, slept and slept.
To complicate matters, when my wife arrived on Sunday afternoon, we decided not to nurse Terra at night anymore and continue with this weaning. Part of the decision had to do with the fact that on Monday my wife was having her Gall Bladder removed and it would be rather difficult to nurse at night, etc. So, this week I've been, as a dear friend reminded me, "parenting, not babysitting." She was absolutely right, although at times I felt like I was babysitting my wife! My wife got back from the operation well, but knocked out, she really couldn't do much for at least three days. (I wouldn't have wanted to do anything for a month!) The same day she returned we had to go back in because a suture was bleeding plenty. The next day Terra woke up with a massive ear infection on her left ear. That was another trip to the Doc. The week got progressively busier for me as I also took care of my wife, and then Wednesday night Terra decided she was going to get up at 2:30am and not sleep again until 5:30am. After that I couldn't go back to sleep, so I stayed up. My wife and son? Up at 9am and 9:30 respectively.
Did I also mention that we are moving in a week?
So, school stuff this week? None. Scholarship? Non-existent. Which is not a bad thing, but is indeed not a great thing either. But today I do have to catch up with readings, assignments, etc. We have approximately four more weeks of school, and probably the most intense weeks. How to go back full of energy, charge those students up, and incorporate good mindfulness activities is always plenty taxing, but I love it.
One thing for sure: I will never take my wife's job as a stay-home mom for granted. This week at home doing most everything for two kids was not easy, and required an unbelievable amount of mindfulness. Her job is decidedly harder than mine. Plenty different at least. Sometimes people ask me if she meditates. She doesn't sit formally, but I tell you, she has to be practicing powerful mindfulness in everything she does. And good moms make it look easy. She can teach me mindfulness anytime.
This is the sonnet I recited to my wife as I proposed, on "bended knee." It was a lot of fun, and made more exciting for the fact that there were about 80 other folks in attendance. It was at a gathering of a volunteer program we both worked. The place: The Adult Health and Development Program (AHDP) at the University of Maryland, College Park. 
Is it our anniversary? Nope. Just thought I'd surprise her by putting this little thing together. Besides, it took me away from doing other things that needed doing, and a little procrastination is a good thing. Notice the progression from hair to no hair. Rather, ahem, smooth, if I do say so myself. The pics are in no particular order, although the general sense is from shortly after we met to the most recent trip to Lake Tahoe last Summer.
Sonnet CXVI
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
-- William Shakespeare
For those of us interested in Family Dharma, here are a few neat sites about Buddhism for kids.
Dharma for Kids This is a Mahayana Buddhism site for kids and teachers. Some neat short stories to illustrate concepts.
Family Dharma Connections Plenty of info here, including information about Mindful Divorce, Buddhist homeschooling, book reviews, etc. Very neat site.
Buddhanet's Kids Page Has two interesting stories, and a draw a picture utility, but is not a site that is easy to surf or visit by kids themselves. The buddha picture in the front page is pretty scary in my estimation.
The Online Family Buddhist Center Plenty of info here to search about.
Buddha Minders: Little Bodhi This is a Buddhist magazine for young ones, or the young at heart. Give it a try.
Also, a site named MindfulParent apparently is on the works. No working site yet.
A recent picture of Terra Lynne after taking a bath. You can see some of her red curls sticking out from the hood of her bath robe.
It's not a great quality picture, but since these kind of shots are taken inpromptu, one can't very well argue too much with the results. It's been quite exciting to see Terra start to walk. She has been really going at it the last month. We're past the point where she was getting bruises from constant falls. Now, she cruises back and forth, still tottering, but much better.
She also has to learn to get up on her own, and not to fall when she wants to get back down, but those skills will come with some more time and physical therapy. We are delighted, especially since we didn't know if she was going to be able to walk. Isn't she adorable?
She's a daddy's girl too, which means that she constantly wants me to hold her. Now that she's cruising around, she walks over, grabs my leg and starts demanding that I pick her up. All a joy and a gift.
I love the Fall. This is definitely my favorite season. I love the feeling of gathering the threads so that we can abide mindfully and comfortably at home, nestled with family during the Winter. 
The feeling of Harvest, of ripeness, of a life worthy of rest suffuses me. It is also a time for wonderful food. Stuffed squash, pomegranates, sauteed rice, roasted vegetables, hearty teas, warm spiced cider, and more. Can't forget the pumpkin pie with lots of whipped cream either.
It is also perfect time for mindful walking. Alas, here in Oregon it rains plenty, so one has to put up with a bit of wind, wetness, and chilliness. But there's nothing sweeter than walking amid swirling fallen leaves. An orange, yellow, red, purple, and green magic carpet at your feet, and with every step the promise of walking through the swirl -- and being whisked up in nature's spiral dance.
So, I took Phoenix on a poem walk this morning. We didn't go far, but we had a good time and collected many a good word for a poem we'll work on later. He warmly attired in his rain slicker, yellow rain boots, and excitement all over his face at the possibility of splashing in puddles . Me caped in hope, love, and longing for this little life. We set out to bask in love, and of course, if love is what you want, you don't really have to work hard at finding it. And we had a great time. At times we walked mindfully. At other times we were both I'm sure, enjoying the kind of thoughts cats have when they sit idly by a window watching the leaves fall.
Autumn has always been for me also a time of remembrance. A time for slowly dawning recollections. The memories emerge slowly from the bottom of my consciousness, like a tiny tendril of an ivy, longing for attention, reaching to grasp onto my mind and firmly anchoring itself in my present. Just as the leaves swirl freely, these memories come up swirling and tinge my thoughts with a kind of plaintive nostalgia I can only describe as the feeling one gets when watching a sunset. The Smithereens called it Beauty & Sadness in the 80s. Shakespeare called it sweet sorrow. Yet, it's not really sad. It is a feeling one wants to dwell upon, to wrap one's arms around oneself and, in the words of Derek Walcott, feast on one's own life. It is mindful abiding with oneself.
And so, as I walked amid the leaves I remember that girl from long ago, that wonderful Thanksgiving dinner, the awkwardness of the moment, and the lightness of its being that makes it all the more memorable... the night my son Alex was born...a later moment of unabashed and unrestrained joie de vivre at the potential of my young self...the Summer in Brooklyn, NY, listening to Emerson, Lake, & Palmer and Peter, Paul & Mary... In my consciousness's attempt to keep me lost in reverie, the transition from one memory to another is never harsh, never sharp-edged. It is always a fade, an overlap, a superimposition of images all colored with the rust of Fall and of age, and the sweetness of sunsets.
But we come back to the present. We touch that past tenderly in order to harvest every so often the bounty of a life that has brought us to where we are now, and that must be continually tended with care in order for it to continue growing lovingly.
And that's how I find myself writing this now. Ensconced in that mellifluous languidness of mind and body, the dulcet tones of Autumnal memory, Phoenix and I returned home. We walked home, Phoenix on my shoulders getting his hair wet as he reached for low branches with his head, to pick blackberries and grapes in the backyard. We returned with words for a poem, a rose for Michelle (the love of our life), and a longing for pumpkin pie.
Here are some of the words we'll use for our poem: leaves, rain, colors, purple flowers, backyard, grapes, umbrella, rain, beautiful, poem walk, Fall, yellow rain boots, slicker, branches, Phoenix, good, puddles.
I'll post the poem when we get it done. I'm already looking forward to our next PoemWalk.
A recent picture to accompany a previous post about family mindfulness practice! My son Phoenix inviting the big sangha bell.
Inspired by some recent comments about walking meditation with my son... As noted in the previous post, I've had some success in getting my five year old boy (Phoenix) to do some walking meditation with me. It certainly doesn't happen all the time, but at other times it is he who reminds me of it! I've been trying gently to introduce more about mindfulness and meditation into our family life. We use the language of mindfulness frequently in my family and so he has begun using it also. I'm glad he is using it. I wish I had access to that language when I was growing up.
Here's a .PDF of a speech delivered by none other than Raffi, the children's singer. Raffi is a staunch defender and advocate of children. The speech is quite nice. Follow the links to his site and see other statements.
Change is good
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