Obos

In my last post I included some pictures of an obos that I built while spending a lovely afternoon with my family.

Obos is a Japanese term for simply a "pile of rocks", often only three.

Today I went to The Painter's Keys, to visit an article on obos, called The Art Shrine. I found it beautiful.

One reader wrote in that they would quietly suggest "nobos", with the thought behind it being "leave no trail".

I understand well this sentiment.

But I can't say that I agree that it is a violation.

There was something so gentle, quiet, and serene about the entire process. Beginning with the gathering of stones. Touching their smoothness, choosing ones of different shades of subtle earth.

After the gathering came pondering where to place my obos. That was an easy one. The place spoke to me almost before the stones themselves did.

Next came the building.

No frustrations, no disharmony, no expectations, no unease.

Only tranquility.

Solitude.

Though I hadn't any ideas of what the creation would gift me with, I came away with much peace. My monument wasn't a sign stating "I am here", but more of an honoring of earth, the beauty of the day, the loveliness of the moment, the affinity I felt for all of Earth Mother and Her creations.

I still carry the gentle whispering song in my heart today.

I cannot imagine that She would view my obos as a scar to her beauty.

I rather think that She would view it as it was meant to be - a quiet tribute to all the life and love that She had shown me on this day.

On another note, I imagine myself resting and thinking beside a river somewhere, pondering life and love. Allowing the wise words of the stream into my mind and heart.

If upon being enveloped by the earth's gentle grace I happened my eyes upon an obos that someone had built, I can say with certainty that I would not be offended that I was not the first one to sit in this place. It is far more likely that I would feel an affinity for a fellow man, wondering if the same thoughts passed through him.

I would wonder if the place were magical.

I would wonder if I was led here to quietly ponder, imagine, rest, sigh, and love as others had been led before me.

I can only suppose that God in His wisdom and Her gentleness would approve of such a thing.

letting go

Sometimes we just have troubles.

Sometimes it might soothe one's mind and heart to do a little protection magick.

Sometimes we can't help but notice and focus on things that are going awry.

Sometimes we need to work through it.

And sometimes we can just let it go.

I think I want my next book purchase to be a translation of the Tao Te Ching. I have no idea which one. I have no idea how to find an interpretation that is a match for me.

Maybe one will just come to me. (If you have one that you love, please pass on the information...)

I was listening to Wayne Dyer late, late last night (2am) on pbs. I just really love him. Anyway, he was speaking about rigidity and fluidity. That in a moment of conflict, you might imagine yourself as water, and being water, would be able to gently get into (flow with) another.

A strange sort of thing happened, it brought to my mind a picture of myself, as water, and just flowing across the street, and puddling and trickling throughout the driveway of the little duplexes.

Interestingly enough, this odd thought brought me a sense of peace and tranquility, it was as though the strife I had been feeling had flowed out of me as well.

It makes no sense, I know.

But there you have it.

I'm not afraid.

I'm not resentful.

I am not worried.

I don't know that this feeling of serenity (regarding the recent conflict) is permanent.

I only know that for now I am at peace.

Changes

I've been noticing the last few days that the season has begun to change.
It's still ninety something degrees - near a hundred, but the blazing glory has begun to subside.
The cooler night breezes drift in much more readily than they used to. They are quick on the heals of the sun going down, which is the first clue that it has begun. There's no remaining twilight at bedtime these days.
We're no where near yet the famous crisp autumn breezes, but still...

Change is in the air.

appearances

Here is a post I started to write a couple of weeks ago - right after the trouble with NCM...

July 23, 8:41am

I am having a thought that no wonder people try so damned hard to keep up appearances.
It's so people will leave them the hell alone, and not scrutinize what is going on on the inside. Maybe they think that if things look okay on the outside, no one will see the darkness (self doubt, pain, unworthiness) on the inside.

That's not how I choose to live my life.
I pretty much live my life on the outside. (aside from some messes around the house sometimes that I'd not want others to see. - vomited spoons and all that)
I feel I live my life truly and well, and I have nothing to hide, or be ashamed of.
I am confident.

But this has disturbed me. Made me feel like all of my choices and faults might be things to be ashamed of.
Made me think of every word that I've written here. Made me think of all my controversial choices regarding my children. Made me think of things I've said to intimates that could be held against me.

Made me doubt - even if only for a moment or two - all that I believe in, all that I am, and all that I attain to be.

I resent that.

I'm not attempting to put the blame for my own reeling emotions onto another.
What I'm angry about is that the thought of living a false life - one where flattery, keeping up appearances, presenting one's self as a friend, or "the same" as another in order to "get along in this world" appears to be the better, and easier way to live in this world (at least in this particular moment).
Eric said yesterday after NCM left something about "It's to be expected, babe. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

I'm not railing against natural laws, or against modesty. I am called to raise my children in freedom, safety, and love so that I can protect them and encourage them to be Who They Are.


(August 3, 10:58pm)

I didn't finish it, and I didn't publish it. Eventually I dropped it, as I got over the feelings, and resentment.
Until today.

I was sitting on the front porch, reading and writing, as Maddie wanted to be in the front yard earlier, so I set up camp on the porch.

"Hello!" I hear, but I couldn't see a thing, as I had been looking at the screen, and was blinded in the darkness. But she called again.
It's a neighbor. This one lives across the street.

"Hi. I just wanted to come over and talk to you.... are you having problems with us across the street?"
"No." What?
"Are you still upset about all the traffic from Cat's place?" There are two duplexes across the street from me. It's always been like a strange little commune over there. But aside from the people calling dcfs this winter, I've never had a problem with anyone.
However, we are suspecting (ahem) that the neighbor in the rear is dealing something despicious, as there are -no kidding!- like 25 cars over there a day. Every day.
"Well, I notice the traffic, but...."
"Nancy and I want you to know (Nanc has lived there forever) that it isn't us!"
"I know that."
"Well, someone said they saw you taking pictures at cars over there the other day."
What?
Fence rail!
"Was it the day it started raining?!?" I'm starting to get pissed. (Sam will be proud that I said pissed. She always takes pleasure in such things.)
"I don't know" says nice neighbor. ""We would just like you to come to us if you have problem with anything."
"I wasn't spying on you, I was taking pictures of the damned fence. And rose bushes. I write and take pictures." Unbelievable.
"Oh. Well, I don't want to get in the middle of it... " the middle of what? "I just wanted to talk to you about it."
"Who said I was taking pictures?" As if I couldn't guess.
"That lady that lives there." Yup. You guessed it. NCM. Hereafter known as Mrs. Gladys Kravitz.
Now know friends, that I had planned to write a note to you and tell you that I was no longer suspicious of NCM, and that I had changed my mind, that I did not think her harmful. I just kept forgetting to do it.
I was feeling like I was unfair, and wanted to set the record straight.

The thing is.... she mentioned to me, too, that she thought something suspicious was going on across the street. (next door to her.) But today I heard her over there visiting, just as if she hadn't been speaking ill of her house a few days before.
Neighborhood gossip, I know... and you don't care.

The thing is, neither do I. I've never even considered that it was a problem.

Then Nice Neighbor says something about "Nancy wanted you to know that it wasn't her that called the dcfs last year, it was the people that lived in our place" (before them). Which I suspected.
But - Oh, lovely. Now the neighbors are talking amongst themselves about it.
Perfect!
And let's tell Mrs Kravitz about it, too, so that she can make sure and tell the new (potential) neighbors before they even move in!

I'm not trying to be a whiner, folks, but I am thoroughly disgusted.
So what did I do?
You'll be verra disappointed with me, of course, but stay with me - my sense prevailed in the end. I have lived in this house for four plus years, and never closed my front room curtain. Never. Day or night. Never saw a need to. I have to go to the little girl's room, and I notice Trev's door open, and think, "Prime spot for some binoculars to come traveling through." Shut the door. (wouldn't dream of shutting the door to the potty, no one is around!) Visited the bathroom. Go walking past the livingroom, Trev is four inches away from the tellie set. "Not so close, Bub," thinking Mrs. Kravitz will see him. Kid up past ten. Eating an icecream bar. Watching television.
"What?" he asked.
"I said... " what the hell am I thinking? "Never mind, son." Closed that damned blind down, instead. "Do you want me to pull the chair over?" so he can get a better view without being an inch away.
"Yeah!"
So that's what we did.
And my front blind remains closed.
Eric will wonder what in tarnation happened... but then he'll remember, as I've already told him the sorry tale.

There is some learning to be done here.
I'm not sure what it is.
Could be remembering that spell to halt gossip.
Could be to not trust people so much.
Could be to plant more trees/bushes along my southern (street) border.
Could be to stand even taller, and remember "screw 'em".
Could be that I need to win one over at a time, not with gossip and ondits, but with appreciation for whom they are, and acceptance. (that one feels pretty difficult at the moment.) But I don't mean Gladys.
I read a post of Laura's at Wistful Wanderlust. About this very thing. ("there are the people who ask questions in search of faults.") It saved me today.
lol - Eric just got home and said "Why is the blind closed?"

Ah, well.
It's midnight, and I'll not be resolving this tonight.
To be continued.

Danger!

The Dangerous Book For Boys!

I've heard of it, of course, and thought it sounded charming and interesting.

Today while at Costco (sigh, sometimes I just really love Costco) I saw the book. I immediately thought "Oooh, let's have a look!" and opened it up.

While I opened it up randomly and saw things like knots, and fossils, and Jolly Rogers (interesting, indeed) when you get technical and look at the Contents.... well, it seems a marvelous thing, indeed.

Here are a few:

The Greatest Paper Airplane in the World

The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World

How to Play Stickball

Making a Bow and Arrow

Mountains of the United States

The Golden Age of Piracy

Secret Inks

Making a Go-Cart

Spies - Codes and Ciphers

And much, much more.

Oh, ho!

I am terribly excited about this, I am sure you know.

While I looked at it with Trev in the store, he was a bit thrown off by the word "dangerous", and is a little leery.

But almost everything in the book he has already expressed an interest in, so I am sure we (and me, if not he) will find much to savor in this book.

Un Parenting

There's been some talk on this lately in my circles.
Well, not really talk so much as accusation.

Unschoolers (specifically those living an ru lifestyle - and by that I mean trying to live consensually, respectfully, mindfully, thoughtfully, and lovingly) being accused of being Un Parents.

I was instantly offended.
What?!?
Living RU (or for those that prefer a different term Whole Life Unschoolers) is hard work! It means not butting in sometimes and letting your children work out a difference - coming to compromises by using their communication skills. It means fortifying them (by honest example)with that wisdom and desire in the first place.
It means not just saying "Give that back!" or "Oh, for Heaven's sake, just Let Her Have It!" in a moment of sheer frustration and chaos. (Anything to resume the peace and quiet - if only for four lovely seconds.)
It's living conscientiously in any given moment. Striving to live it in every given moment.
I speak for myself, of course.

When I hear Un Parenting, I think Un Caring. And I feel angry over it. I would like to say it makes me angry, but as I am striving to take full responsibility for my emotions and reactions, I am choosing my words carefully.

Maybe it has to do with personal philosophy, as I've recently said.
I don't believe in a condemning and judging God.
I believe that we are free - Really Free - to live as we choose.
That there are no recriminations. That there are no right and wrong answers.
I shall save the spiritual whys and wherefores for another time, as this post is really is about parenting.

So back to the subject - I want to raise my children with freedom. There is no place for policy or politics here, there is only a soft nest under them - one that isn't so fluffy that it enables one to fall for miles and miles, never knowing when the bottom is finally coming at one's back, but one that supports personal truth and the callings of the spirit. Whatever that may be.
Really - What Ever That May Be.
I read tonight on Ren's main webpage a really simple sentence - she said "Unschooling means that each of us learn in our own way and time, the things that we love."
Well, yeah. I've been saying it for years! Well, almost years, one plus, anyway. Could be a few days shy of a plural.
But somehow this really stood out to me tonight.
There is a profound amount of love and freedom in that summary.
And there is no room for judgment in it.

Many of my posts lately have been about judgment.
It's telling, to be sure.
That I judge, and don't want to.
That I often feel judged, and don't like it.
That I sometimes run my own agenda in the midst of what could be a really fabulous and magical learning/unschooling moment.
For instance, Evie wrote today about how her brilliant boys created a zipline.
What a marvelous idea!
With the current set of my mind, I am ashamed to say that I would have been trying to sneak in opportunities for learning. I honestly don't know why. I'm not in a panicking sort of state, lately. But I am in a judging sort of state.
So while I would have basked in my children's ingenuity and shininess, I can see myself saying "Hey, let's get out the measuring tape, and see which toy/item launches the furthest from the ejection point at the bottom of the line!, want to?"
And, chances are, I would have just sucked the joy out of the fun.
Not that it wouldn't have been a really great and fun thing to do in another context!
But because I was on An Agenda ' "Let's make this even bigger and better!", I would have totally spoiled the magic, and therefore gone away feeling disappointed instead of living and basking in the joy.
Ugh.

It seems that I have made a confession and gotten off topic...
Oh, yes, judging.
Not so far off, after all.

Un Parenting.
The word/s to me imply "hands off". Which means to me, mind and heart off.
(shakes head)
Sometimes we involve our heads and hearts so deeply into an idea, that it becomes our life and breath, and we don't see that it's strange or unusual to another. That it's not commonplace... even though it seems so to us.

I've already said early on what living this r.u. life (call it whatever you wish) means to me.
Growing, loving, embracing, not judging, being open-minded and open hearted.
Acceptance.

So I am thinking that it may appear to some that while I am sitting on the sidelines - perhaps to another 'Doing Nothing', it may very well be different in my head.
That a lot of things could be going on.
That I am giving my child a moment to search his mind to find a solution.
That I am giving her the freedom of her emotions.
That I am allowing for opportunities for growth.
That I am exercising patience and faith in another's ability to live his life as he needs to do.

I'm not speaking of license, and of allowing another rightful dominion, of course.

But I can't help but think that the way I want to raise my children - with unconditional love and acceptance - is the way that God treats me.
This isn't a matter of "if you're a serial killer then that's fine with me... ", though spiritually I would try to accept it, but a matter of "how would I like to be treated, ultimately?"
With love.
With acceptance.
With a lot of room for errors.
With a smile of fondness.
With the comfort that whatever I choose as the right thing for me, if I say it is, is Perfectly All Right.

(shrug.) Some would say it's hedonistic (a person whose life is devoted to the pursuit of pleasure and self-gratification.)
But I don't think that's the case for most of us, do you?
I think that if given the liberty to pursue all of one's truths - and not just a small "gratifying" part of them, then one is bound to expand and venture well past what is convenient and comfortable.
I certainly do.
I certainly don't find spilling my heart to the (virtual) world for all to judge and find lacking a very "comfortable" feeling.
But I seek growth, and it is what I must do.

Anyway.
My point is, that just because it looks to another as Un Parenting, doesn't mean that it is.
On the other hand, if what you mean by parenting is "Judging particular things to be worthy or not, and passing that judgment on to your children as to its validity, or right to exist", then I'd probably have to say "Yeah". That's what I try do do. Be an UnParent. I don't believe it is my right to pass on my judgments (and I have loads of them) and prejudices (I have a few of those, as well - though they probably look very different from most) to my child.

I see that as my parental contribution to making this world a better place.

If my children love and and communicate and express and celebrate and hug and live! more freely and openly and honestly than I, then I have done my part to contribute to the joyousness of this world.

For myself - if I can Judge Not, then I have succeeded.

#85

Put my spices in the kitchen into pretty jars.

Pristine Pieces

Today, I am in search of... basking in... celebrating!, all that is clean.

Pristine.

It starts with refilling (making) my cleaners.
(Here you are to notice and admire the clean, tangle-free hair, and the tidy brows.)

A freshly laundered shower curtain.Clean linens.