I love you to the lotuses

The lotus is a popular symbol in Eastern religions, representing rebirth and awakening.  It starts as a small flower down at the bottom of a pond, deep in the mud and muck. It slowly grows up towards the water's surface, continually moving towards the light. Once it comes to the surface of the water, the lotus flower begins to blossom and turn into a beautiful flower.

 This has become a bit of a "totem" for me, representing what we all go through in life at times, but more importantly how I hope to live my life…pushing through the muck and the darkness towards the light, allowing myself to open and embrace the light. To bloom.  It didn't hurt that my yoga studio was selling cute little lotus necklaces, and of course I bought one. I wear it all the time as a reminder of the lotus's perseverance and beauty that I hope to embody. When O saw the necklace for the first time, she loved it. She got all close and cuddly with me, gently taking the necklace in her little hands, and asked me softly "Mama, what's this pretty necklace?"

I explained to her the meaning of the lotus and why Mama likes it so much.  O is pretty amazing at grasping advanced topics for someone her age, but she seemed rather non-plussed with my story and moved on to pretending she was my parents' three-legged Chihuahua named Jasmine (her favorite of the three, yes three, Chihuahuas my parents own).  My job then was to pretend I was Grammy (my mom) and give her fake marrow bones.

A few days later, we were reading L a story before bed called "Guess How Much I Love You?" If you have not read this book or given it to a kid you love, do it now. It is one of the sweetest, most tender books out there for kids. The bunny parent (Big Nutbrown Hare) and the bunny kid (Little Nutbrown Hare) take turns saying how much they love the other, each time with greater and greater magnitude. It ends with the bunny parent softly saying, as the bunny kid falls asleep, "I love you to the moon…and back."   The impossible magnitude of the love you have for your kids captured so beautifully.

Later the same evening, as I was putting O to bed, I told her I loved her, as I do every night (and all the time, really - I don’t think you can tell your kids enough how much you love them).  O smiled and said, "I love you to the lotuses."

I've already learned the lesson that your kids are listening even when you think they are not (the hard way) so be careful what you say. And I know that O has a pretty amazing imagination and is very creative.  But this struck me as just awesome.  O not only remembered the story of the lotus, but I think she really got it, maybe more than I had at the time.

 At the end of the day, the thing that powers my inner lotus, my perseverance, my desire for awakening and blooming is love. Love for my kids to push through the crap life gives you sometimes so that I can still be a good example, a good mom, a positive person. Love for my family and friends to appreciate the light and brilliance they bring to my life, even when my days seem dark and to hopefully reflect some of that light and brilliance back on their lives.  And love for myself to know I can blossom and embrace beauty and light, that I am worth pushing through, even if I get stuck in the muck sometimes.  People might have religion to help them through the tough times in life, or just a strong sense of spirituality…but I think at the end of the day, it really is about love, no matter what your belief system is.  Loving others, knowing others love you and loving yourself.

As I kissed O goodnight and tucked the blanket around her, I said to her softly "I love you to the lotuses…and back."

 

 

That owie is NO problem!

The other day, O had a scrape on her ankle.  This was one of those awesome scrapes that stayed kind of oozy, and of course I lapsed on keeping a bandaid on it, and so naturally it got stuck to her sock as part of the healing process. As I got O ready for her bath, I yanked the sock off, not knowing this would result in screaming and blood gushing everywhere.  As O was crying she kept saying over and over how she didn't want to go back to school. After exploring this a bit, it turned out that O was afraid to go back to where she got hurt (the school playground).  This event was so traumatic  she never wanted to be in the place where the trauma could happen again.

 Turns out, I knew exactly how O felt.  That feeling of being so hurt, so scared, so confused as to why something painful was happening --I mean, why the hell did taking my sock off hurt so bad?!  -- that the only thing you can think of is how to avoid it EVER happening again.  It's such a natural, human response, at any age to choose to avoid pain, or even the chance of pain.  A relationship ends painfully - why not avoid getting close to anyone again? It can be tough not being an expert in a new job - why not stay put in a job where at least you can be knowledgeable and can avoid failure? You hurt a friend - why not stay distant from people so as not to expose your shortcomings?

O and I talked about what she was feeling. And I told her a few stories of how Mama got owies - including a particularly embarrassing one where I passed out while running, hit my head on the asphalt and even had a car stop to see why I was laying on the side of the road.  I walked home feeling shaky, embarrassed and wondering what the hell just happened. 

 
But then I told her how I still run -- because it is good for me, and keeps my body and mind healthy. And that I just focus on how to make sure I didn’t get hurt again in that way (lesson learned: don’t run in 90 degree D.C. weather, up a hill and then stop, bend over and tie your shoe). And even though it was a scary, painful experience, I couldn't let it stop me from doing something I loved. 

At the conclusion of my story, O proclaimed "Mama, that owie is NO problem. I'm not going to let that owie stop me from doing ANYTHING!" I think in that moment I had never been so proud of her.  And yet again - lessons learned from a 4 year old. 

We can't let those owies be a problem -- whether they are from a failed relationship, trying and failing at something new, realizing we are not perfect by a long shot or falling down while running.  Do we learn from them and seek to do better, choose better? Absolutely. Should we try to avoid potentially life threatening situations? Um, yes :-)   But for me, I strive to learn so I can do what I love, so that I can still love and so that I can be loved.  Embrace my imperfections, my mistakes -- and still live life to the fullest.  We cannot be afraid of a relationship not working - otherwise the choice is to be alone. We cannot be afraid of doing something new - otherwise the choice to be bored and not grow. We cannot be afraid of showing others that we are not perfect - otherwise the choice to not learn, grow and be loved.

I have been doing a lot more yoga lately.  I find it is a great physical representation of the battle my heart and mind go through. I have to remember to breathe, I have to be forgiving and accepting of myself and my abilities, and I have to be willing to trust myself to go to new places.  This may mean doing a pose or NOT doing a pose. The other night, I had a "moment."  I was in the standing splits pose which is prep for doing a handstand. And for weeks I had just been hanging out there, not trying to do the handstand.  In that pose, it just doesn't FEEL like you can get to handstand. You don't have any momentum - you feel stuck. Plus I just have a general fear of flopping around loudly in an otherwise pristine yoga studio. Man, what a parallel to moments in my life over the last couple of years.

But then I made a well-educated decision to say screw it - my body felt good and if my 4 year old can get over her skin being ripped off, I can certainly try the handstand. And so I tried. And I kind of got up. Momentarily. With minimal flopping. And then I did it again and again.

So despite past pain, past failures -- it is nice to find the internal momentum to just move from where you are stuck. To forgive yourself and love yourself enough to take chances and seek out new experiences, even if there is a risk of getting hurt. So some may say "feel the fear and do it anyway"   -- I'm going with "That owie is no problem. "