Continuing my catch up on nvc-parenting archives, I paused again at Isabell Peters' poem. I'm trying to work out with what I feel connected, and which parts disconnect with me. (permission to share with others off-list, message 6532):
Don't obey me, my child
(Isabell Peters/2005)
Listen to me and open your heart
when I open mine
when I reveal myself to you
or indoctrinate you - then tell me
if you are irritated.
Should I say "you have to"
don't believe me, my child -
Just bear with me
when I know no other way.
When I think I know better
What's good for you
don't believe me -
just bear with me
when I seem to have no trust.
Listen to me and open your heart
when I open mine
even when I reveal myself
with lack of trust
with my pain
with my disorientation.
Never obey me, my child!
Yet follow me if your heart approves.
(Translation: Sara Hartmann)
Connection: "Yet follow me if your heart approves" - describes the desire I hold that my children might follow my instructions because those instructions are such that would meet my children's needs.
Disconnection: Actually, probably not disconnection, so much as my fear that the number of times my instructions may have been made with my own needs rather than the children's in mind may have created an inclination in them for lack of trust that my instruction would be worth following with approval.
Obedience, compliance... surely they are not needed if I have earned trust?
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Ingenious
GUF is visiting over the festival season. I have learned a lot about the history of World Championship Chess, enjoyed the influence of my uncle on my sons, and received the kind of loving support and reassurance that only an uncle can give.
Which reminds me that I caught up with GUK on Skyhero Chat this afternoon.
Do you Sudoku? Cricket and I did (this morning) while watching our new Voyager DVDs (thanks GUF). Then Kitty did too, and she is again, with GUF, while I blog. Earlier we watched Madagascar and played Ingenious.
Which reminds me that I caught up with GUK on Skyhero Chat this afternoon.
Do you Sudoku? Cricket and I did (this morning) while watching our new Voyager DVDs (thanks GUF). Then Kitty did too, and she is again, with GUF, while I blog. Earlier we watched Madagascar and played Ingenious.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
More to read when I have more time...
GUF will arrive soon, and I must take food to mum's for lunch, but first I want to take note of the site brought to my attention early this morning, to remind me to read it in more depth later: CNVC are considering a sociocratic style of structure, operation and governance - which sounds hopeful.
Googling, as I do, led me to Spirituality and Globalisation: Visions of a different type of social organisation by Wolfgang Fischer. Hmmm....?
Later
Googling, as I do, led me to Spirituality and Globalisation: Visions of a different type of social organisation by Wolfgang Fischer. Hmmm....?
Later
Thursday, December 22, 2005
"For words, like Nature, half reveal...
and half conceal the Soul within." - Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Black Hill
Oh Memories... and new family joy.
After tea I dragged the boys on a walk to Black Hill. At the foot of the hill: "I remember that cliff", "I remember that path... it goes over that rise and there was a tunnel through the blackberries", " Yes I remember this road, if we go around here there is a reasonably easy climb through the pine trees". "I remember this soil smell". While we found new spaces, and experienced our own new adventures, I related the dangerous and tame adventures of my teen years. "See the edge of that cliff behind the tree? We climbed that, up the pink and orange sandstone ... and over there? there was a wider space, just as steep where we took the younger cousins up, all of us tied together". We climbed up and down, and walked around, and each bend and rise brought back more memories, and new rocks for Fish to collect.
Passing a dozen interesting paths to take "next time", we decided eventually to take a loop around the long way rather than retrace any of our path. "This reserve - it was a tip... the smell when we rode home from school... yeuch", "On the way to school, down this hill on bikes, imagine our speed"... "and the time a car was turning as I neared the bottom of the hill, and I squeezed the breaks and my back wheel started to come around and I came this close to this storm water drain". Memories mixed with stories, and jokes, new discoveries, and plans and ideas, filling our hearts with the joy of creating new memories to share.
Next time: water bottles says Cricket, a camera says mum, a bag for the rocks says Fish.
After tea I dragged the boys on a walk to Black Hill. At the foot of the hill: "I remember that cliff", "I remember that path... it goes over that rise and there was a tunnel through the blackberries", " Yes I remember this road, if we go around here there is a reasonably easy climb through the pine trees". "I remember this soil smell". While we found new spaces, and experienced our own new adventures, I related the dangerous and tame adventures of my teen years. "See the edge of that cliff behind the tree? We climbed that, up the pink and orange sandstone ... and over there? there was a wider space, just as steep where we took the younger cousins up, all of us tied together". We climbed up and down, and walked around, and each bend and rise brought back more memories, and new rocks for Fish to collect.
Passing a dozen interesting paths to take "next time", we decided eventually to take a loop around the long way rather than retrace any of our path. "This reserve - it was a tip... the smell when we rode home from school... yeuch", "On the way to school, down this hill on bikes, imagine our speed"... "and the time a car was turning as I neared the bottom of the hill, and I squeezed the breaks and my back wheel started to come around and I came this close to this storm water drain". Memories mixed with stories, and jokes, new discoveries, and plans and ideas, filling our hearts with the joy of creating new memories to share.
Next time: water bottles says Cricket, a camera says mum, a bag for the rocks says Fish.
Coincidence
calling to mind the thrill of making connections.
Google Quote of the Day:
"I can't bring myself to say, 'Well, I guess I'll be toddling along.' It isn't that I can't toddle. It's just that I can't guess I'll toddle." Robert Benchley.
Fresh on the heels of yesterday's learning: he was an Algonquin Wit!
Google Quote of the Day:
"I can't bring myself to say, 'Well, I guess I'll be toddling along.' It isn't that I can't toddle. It's just that I can't guess I'll toddle." Robert Benchley.
Fresh on the heels of yesterday's learning: he was an Algonquin Wit!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Acmeism & Algonquin Round Table
The Information Services Librarian strolled me through our online databases during training today. Scanning the Gale Literature Resource Centre I caught sight of "Acmeism" and "Algonquin round table" as Literary Movements or Time Periods. What on earth?
Google?
Ah... thank you Lindsay Malcolm and Martin Kich. Acmeism... check.
I believe pbs American Masters give a more enjoyable read about the Algonquin round table than Wikipedia, although it was nice to hear from the Algonquin Hotel themselves.
I shall always remember Mrs Potter, my Grade 3 teacher: "You will learn something new every day".
Google?
Ah... thank you Lindsay Malcolm and Martin Kich. Acmeism... check.
I believe pbs American Masters give a more enjoyable read about the Algonquin round table than Wikipedia, although it was nice to hear from the Algonquin Hotel themselves.
I shall always remember Mrs Potter, my Grade 3 teacher: "You will learn something new every day".
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