What I wish for my kids...

Sometimes when I'm daydreaming, I get flashbacks as to how I was  just as I was starting to wean myself from my childhood home.  Finally free, at last, I would have a voice.  Alas, I would soon find out the hard way that I knew absolutely nada about communication, least of all with myself.  I literally shudder at the thought of what I put my old boyfriends through, up until and including my husband during our first years together.  Somehow, I was under the impression that it was, after having grown up in a family of seven, MY TURN to have things MY WAY. Suffice it to say, I had no coping strategies whatsoever to utilize when faced with the inevitable mishaps and shortcomings that are basically everyone's fate at this stage of life, which left me pretty much going beserk on a regular basis.  Not a pretty sight, and one that I wish I could delete from my memory bank.

I've never been completely cured of this innate desire to be in control (and in the right), nor can I, with a clear conscience, claim to be a particularly "patient" person. Luckily, yoga and meditation have been my most important schools throughout the past few years, and I have been slowly noticing more and more progress in my way of reacting to adversity, especially during these past few months. I find that my breathing remains more calm even during stressful situations. I understand that getting angry will only make things worse. I've even come to the realization that "I" am not my feelings, and that when I act out, I am only shadowing my true self.

When do I most easily forget how to be yogic? When my kids "forget" to set the table. Or when they don't have their things ready when it's time to go to school. When they ask for D, right after having been given A, B, and C! That list goes on, but I've made it my personal mission to take my control obsession down more than just a few notches, so that they won't have the same mute start in life that I had. Easier said than done.

That's why I've taken to a slightly odd parenting method. See, I have this thing for self-help programs: "You Are What You Eat", "The Dog-Whisperer", "Lyxfällan (The Luxury Trap)", "Property Ladder", but my absolute favorite is: "Mary, Queen of Shops" (I am simply mad about Mary!). And more than that, I love watching these shows with my kids (who seem to have inherited my passion for these kinds of shows) because it gives them a chance to see that if we don't get it right, right off the bat, then you're given the opportunity and possibility to learn, develop, and change. In other words, it's OK to be wrong and ask for help. But YOU have to do the work if you want things to change for the better.

I want more than anything for my children to realize that life doesn't just "happen to them". If they are to leave this nest in the next 5-10 years (gulp), then I want them to know that they can be in control of their decisions, and thereby their happiness. And if they screw up, then they can decide to make a better, more informed decision the next time around.

In the words of Ilyana Vanzant (that have been my mantra for the past 13 years), "When you know better, you do better."

Supermoon & Supermen

Last week we were visited by the "Supermoon" which shone in all its glory across a cloudless, indigo sky when I went to bed that evening.

I had a normal enough night's sleep. My husband snuck out around 5 A.M. to work the morning shift at IKEA, and since it was Sunday, I was able to sleep in until about 7:30. I got up and made the kids my signature pancakes and bacon breakfast and went about my business throughout the day.

While doing my yoga practice that afternoon, I was playing my nostalgic Spotify list on shuffle when all of the sudden, All That Jazz started crooning "How Can I Fall?". And in an instant, I was completely aware of a dream that I had had earlier that morning, shortly before I awoke. In it, I was visited by four men who have, each in their own way, had a profound impact on me and the course of my life.

The first was my Teacher. The best one I ever had. The one that without criticism taught me that I needed to learn to channel my thoughts onto paper by applying myself. The one whose eyes conveyed that he, if fact, believed in his students, and whose quiet smile and pauses spoke more volumes than the teachers who had chosen a more vocal and forcefeeding method of teaching. I don't recall what we spoke of in my dream. But I do remember how he made me feel so very validated through his tacit approval.

The next person is the one that I was always think of when I hear the aforementioned song. The Best Friend taken from us by a queer twist of fate. And on the occasions that he visits me in my dreams, I am so overwhelmed with joy and love upon seeing him. It's like I can't hold onto him hard enough.

After that, my Husband shows up, but just in passing. Again, there's no "plot", and barely any dialogue. Still, I am reminded of our unique bond and intertwined souls.

Finally, the Workmate/Friend appears. The one so full of himself, that never hesitates to speak his mind, yet he does it in such an unapologetic, charming manner, that I can't help but love him. We made a great team. We understood each other without having to always agree with each other. Above all, we will always respect each other deeply, and that's why he's one of the few that I feel I can really trust.

All in all, the dream probably lasted more like seconds than minutes. But it has stayed with me in the days that have followed. I am genuinely thankful for the crossing of our paths.