The door bell rang. James, in his usual excitment, on hearing the door bell, ran straight to the door. I knew it was a friend of mine, who has been through a very tough time over the past decade but especially so in the last two years.
I opened the door. James recoiled, ran back through the hallway and cried. I can't say I blame him, I felt a certain degree of recoil myself. My friend was in a pretty bad state and the energy she was giving off affected both James and I immediately.
What do I support a toddler who is overwhelmed by someone else's negative energy? I want him to remain open and to use his sensitivity as a gift rather than be overpowered by it. (My grounded friends may want to look away now!).
On the physical level, I picked James up so he was wrapped in my energy, which soothes him and I spoke softly to him, understanding his feeling of overwhelm. On the subtle level, I invoked additional protection for him from Archangel Michael and saw him wrapped in his blue light of protection. I also sent a message to his guardian angel that I understood what was wrong, that he was safe and protected and asked his guardian angel to stay very close to him to add additional comfort and protection.
As the evening wore on, my friend's energy began to shift (which I was simultaneously praying for her, as she was in so much emotional pain) and this, combined with James' additional protection, meant that he felt more comfortable and confident. Towards the end of the evening, he began to play with her, a sure sign he felt safe again.
It was an eye opening event for me. As adults we recognize that people in difficulty can sap us of our energy. We feel it when someone is under the weather. James stark reaction shows that children are much more sensitive to these energies, from anger through to depression. They lack the skills to protect their energy so it's important to help them develop those skills: to ask for additional protection and support from our angels and guides. We don't have to do it on our own - there's always help there for us, we just have to ask.
Sunday 30 September 2012
Tuesday 25 September 2012
Better. Much better.
After two days of the new prepared-proactive-card-glue-and-glitter wielding mothering approach, I'm delighted to announce that life is definitely better. James is enjoying the increased stimulation, variety and more undivided attention.
I'm enjoying feeling supported (by my prior preparation). I always have ideas, options and supplies. I can't begin to say how much better that feels, as though I'm not struggling to keep up. I don't know why I didn't do this before. I don't even know what's significantly different now. I'm just more prepared and more present. Those two things have helped enormously.
So yes, he still watches television. He still screams for his soother. He still has moments of boredom and frustration, but all those are somehow less invasive in our (individuated) psyches.
So I'm not the best mum, but I feel like it now. I finally feel like I am the mother I would like to be.
I'm enjoying feeling supported (by my prior preparation). I always have ideas, options and supplies. I can't begin to say how much better that feels, as though I'm not struggling to keep up. I don't know why I didn't do this before. I don't even know what's significantly different now. I'm just more prepared and more present. Those two things have helped enormously.
So yes, he still watches television. He still screams for his soother. He still has moments of boredom and frustration, but all those are somehow less invasive in our (individuated) psyches.
So I'm not the best mum, but I feel like it now. I finally feel like I am the mother I would like to be.
His own self
Just three weeks from his second birth James has individuated. Hmmm... perhaps that's not a word. However...
This morning while I was changing James' nappy, he looked up at me and pointed to me and said, 'Mama'. Then he pointed to himself and said 'Jayes' (his version of James!).
Yes, he is now a man of his own... nappy changing, feeding, clothing, jumping and bathing aside!
It's a profound moment and I don't know how I feel about it. Delight mixed with a tinge of nostalgia I suppose. But mostly delight. With any luck he'll babysit himself soon and Dirk and I can go to the cinema!
This morning while I was changing James' nappy, he looked up at me and pointed to me and said, 'Mama'. Then he pointed to himself and said 'Jayes' (his version of James!).
Yes, he is now a man of his own... nappy changing, feeding, clothing, jumping and bathing aside!
It's a profound moment and I don't know how I feel about it. Delight mixed with a tinge of nostalgia I suppose. But mostly delight. With any luck he'll babysit himself soon and Dirk and I can go to the cinema!
Monday 24 September 2012
Better
On Friday I finally gave up. Or gave in. I'm not sure which. I was fed up of feeling that I wasn't quite providing James with all the stimulation he needs as he approaches 2 years. Every activity I try lasts 10 minutes instead of an afternoon. It's so frustrating.
So I took the bull by the horns...
Over the weekend, I did research on the milestones he should be reaching, and found activities, crafts and tasks that will support those achievements. Then I put together a whole load of resources, from old kitchen gloves to card and colouring templates to create a resource shelf for James.
We were going to have more fun, more structured activities, and more... well... how can I put this... Job satisfaction. That's it. I don't feel as though I'm on the back foot, reactively thinking up things to do. I have a huge list of possiblities now.
We are nearly finished day one and it has been terrific. James has been more contented because there was more to occupy him. It was also a little messier and a little more challenging that I'd normally play with him, which he clearly enjoyed. Some things worked, some didn't. There isn't a surface in our home that isn't covered in glitter after glittery play dough time!
And I feel good about myself. I feel like I was the kind of mother I want to be. I'm going to enjoy that feeling ... while it lasts!
So I took the bull by the horns...
Over the weekend, I did research on the milestones he should be reaching, and found activities, crafts and tasks that will support those achievements. Then I put together a whole load of resources, from old kitchen gloves to card and colouring templates to create a resource shelf for James.
We were going to have more fun, more structured activities, and more... well... how can I put this... Job satisfaction. That's it. I don't feel as though I'm on the back foot, reactively thinking up things to do. I have a huge list of possiblities now.
We are nearly finished day one and it has been terrific. James has been more contented because there was more to occupy him. It was also a little messier and a little more challenging that I'd normally play with him, which he clearly enjoyed. Some things worked, some didn't. There isn't a surface in our home that isn't covered in glitter after glittery play dough time!
And I feel good about myself. I feel like I was the kind of mother I want to be. I'm going to enjoy that feeling ... while it lasts!
Imperfect
I've had a little insight. In my spiritual journey I've been trying to 'perfect' myself, to eliminate the negative characteristics and personality traits.
I may be wrong. This may not be the way to go.
That path seems to be characterised by control and fear, two characteristics that I would never associate with the soul. While there is some merit in becoming kinder and more compassionate, it's possible to over do it.
I suspect that I've been trying too hard to flog a dead horse; 'could do better' has been my motto.
What if my motto was, 'doing well enough'? Perhaps that would make me more forgiving and accepting, less rigid and demanding. It may align me more with my soul than with my ego, which must surely be the whole aim of the spiritual journey, the shift from the mind to the heart.
There's only one snag: it's hard to stop being oneself, to let go of long held attitudes... well, I do love a challenge!
I may be wrong. This may not be the way to go.
That path seems to be characterised by control and fear, two characteristics that I would never associate with the soul. While there is some merit in becoming kinder and more compassionate, it's possible to over do it.
I suspect that I've been trying too hard to flog a dead horse; 'could do better' has been my motto.
What if my motto was, 'doing well enough'? Perhaps that would make me more forgiving and accepting, less rigid and demanding. It may align me more with my soul than with my ego, which must surely be the whole aim of the spiritual journey, the shift from the mind to the heart.
There's only one snag: it's hard to stop being oneself, to let go of long held attitudes... well, I do love a challenge!
Third Archangel visit
We have just completed our third Archangel visit. This one was very different from the others.
For a start, it's meant to be a five day visit - they had to leave on Day Four to go to one friend and on Day Six to go to another. So we had them over the Equinox which had been a dream of mine, but I had no idea how that could happen if they were to leave on Day Five! I need not have worried.
Secondly, I found this a very difficult visit. Usually the energy feels light and lovely while they are here. This time, I almost felt oppressed the energy was so heavy - they were clearing a lot of negativity so no wonder it was heavy.
The most amazing part, and what I considered a gift, was the picture I took on Day Five. It shows Archangel Raphael's energy, Archangel Michael's energy and a lot of other energies that I don't even recognise, all pouring into our garden.
It is one of my prayers that our home serves as a healing spot for our planet: that the love and kindness we pour into our home and garden, and into each other is channelled into the Earth, to promote her healing from all the abuses we carelessly inflict on this planet in the name of progress.
In this photo I can see that we are doing just that - no one else may see it, but that hardly matters, it's a message for me, a confirmation and a recognition of my intention and actions.
(Note: that's James and a friend playing chasing. He's the one in navy running ahead!)
For a start, it's meant to be a five day visit - they had to leave on Day Four to go to one friend and on Day Six to go to another. So we had them over the Equinox which had been a dream of mine, but I had no idea how that could happen if they were to leave on Day Five! I need not have worried.Secondly, I found this a very difficult visit. Usually the energy feels light and lovely while they are here. This time, I almost felt oppressed the energy was so heavy - they were clearing a lot of negativity so no wonder it was heavy.
The most amazing part, and what I considered a gift, was the picture I took on Day Five. It shows Archangel Raphael's energy, Archangel Michael's energy and a lot of other energies that I don't even recognise, all pouring into our garden.
It is one of my prayers that our home serves as a healing spot for our planet: that the love and kindness we pour into our home and garden, and into each other is channelled into the Earth, to promote her healing from all the abuses we carelessly inflict on this planet in the name of progress.
In this photo I can see that we are doing just that - no one else may see it, but that hardly matters, it's a message for me, a confirmation and a recognition of my intention and actions.
(Note: that's James and a friend playing chasing. He's the one in navy running ahead!)
Wednesday 12 September 2012
Forgiveness
There are some hurts we inflict, even with the best of intentions, which live on within us. My divorce from my first husband is one of those hurts. For over a decade I have lived with guilt, shame and pain, even though I know I did it from the purest part of my being at that time.
In order to move on, to lay the past to rest, I wrote to my former in-laws, my ex-husband and my parents, apologising for the pain and suffering I had caused. Over a decade later, perhaps one should let sleeping dogs lie, but I felt I had to do it. I would regret not doing it on my death bed.
I sent an email to my ex-husband rather than writing. I hoped he had moved job so it would bounce and I could think, 'ah well, I did my best'. It didn't bounce. There was no reply.
Apologising for something so deeply intimate and personal is more revealing than going naked: I felt utterly exposed, vulnerable and, to be honest, afraid. The hours ticked past, as I checked my emails, to no avail. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was glad I had done it, even if I didn't feel any sense of peace or release.
At 3pm that day, I was feeding James his snack. I suddenly felt a rush of peace; "It's fine" I uttered, for no apparent reason. Immediately after, James looked up to the ceiling and said, "Hello". He then looked at me and said, "Peace", and went back to eating his snack as if nothing had happened.
Several days later I received a very kind email from my ex-husband. My parents were also very kind, but what overwhelmed me was the loving response from my former in-laws, who rang to say that they understood and that they still loved me.
It was a courageous act on the surface, but only because I knew I couldn't live with this ghost haunting me. What I never expected was the kindness, love and delicacy with which I was treated, nor how much I would receive. It may just go to show that saying sorry really is a kindness to ourselves.
In order to move on, to lay the past to rest, I wrote to my former in-laws, my ex-husband and my parents, apologising for the pain and suffering I had caused. Over a decade later, perhaps one should let sleeping dogs lie, but I felt I had to do it. I would regret not doing it on my death bed.
I sent an email to my ex-husband rather than writing. I hoped he had moved job so it would bounce and I could think, 'ah well, I did my best'. It didn't bounce. There was no reply.
Apologising for something so deeply intimate and personal is more revealing than going naked: I felt utterly exposed, vulnerable and, to be honest, afraid. The hours ticked past, as I checked my emails, to no avail. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was glad I had done it, even if I didn't feel any sense of peace or release.
At 3pm that day, I was feeding James his snack. I suddenly felt a rush of peace; "It's fine" I uttered, for no apparent reason. Immediately after, James looked up to the ceiling and said, "Hello". He then looked at me and said, "Peace", and went back to eating his snack as if nothing had happened.
Several days later I received a very kind email from my ex-husband. My parents were also very kind, but what overwhelmed me was the loving response from my former in-laws, who rang to say that they understood and that they still loved me.
It was a courageous act on the surface, but only because I knew I couldn't live with this ghost haunting me. What I never expected was the kindness, love and delicacy with which I was treated, nor how much I would receive. It may just go to show that saying sorry really is a kindness to ourselves.
How to eat a sandwich
There is a procedure to eating a sandwich. It may even be an art form. It was not until I saw James trying to eat a sandwich that I realised quite how streamlined this process is.
When eating a sandwich:
we eat one quarter at a time, we don't take a bite from the three remaining quarters before returning to the first quarter;
we eat the filling along with the bread, we don't suck out the filling through the corner;
when filling falls out, we don't try to squeeze it back in through the hole from which it emerged;
we take several bites to eat the quarter, we don't push it all into our mouths in one go and then, cheeks bulging, attempt to chew;
finally, we eat both slices on the quarter simultaneously, we don't take off one and then return for the bottom slice - both of which are now devoid of filling anyway.
Ah yes, we are so dignified, us sandwich eaters. We have robbed this simple activity of all the variety and exploration that it could be, regimenting the process so that it is unthinkingly completed. Where is the excitement! Where is the delight? Where is the exploration! As soon as we see a sandwich, we know how every single person will complete the task of eating it. No more, I say. Throw out the procedure manual and lets have some fun!
When eating a sandwich:
we eat one quarter at a time, we don't take a bite from the three remaining quarters before returning to the first quarter;
we eat the filling along with the bread, we don't suck out the filling through the corner;
when filling falls out, we don't try to squeeze it back in through the hole from which it emerged;
we take several bites to eat the quarter, we don't push it all into our mouths in one go and then, cheeks bulging, attempt to chew;
finally, we eat both slices on the quarter simultaneously, we don't take off one and then return for the bottom slice - both of which are now devoid of filling anyway.
Ah yes, we are so dignified, us sandwich eaters. We have robbed this simple activity of all the variety and exploration that it could be, regimenting the process so that it is unthinkingly completed. Where is the excitement! Where is the delight? Where is the exploration! As soon as we see a sandwich, we know how every single person will complete the task of eating it. No more, I say. Throw out the procedure manual and lets have some fun!
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