How Kids Teach Us to Be Successful

PLAY.
As children it is our raison d'etre. As adults it is last on the list.
Somewhere in between is the ticket to bliss.
Here's what we can learn from children.

Prepare for mayhem. Don't set yourself up for misery. Stash the China. Hid the permanent markers. In other words when you are playing don't expect for anyone to be responsible. Prepare then let go. Freedom and ease gives you power everywhere in life.

Laugh. Do whatever it takes to cause giggles, hoots and raucous gaffaws. That means let go of looking good and give up looking bad. Only in that place of vulnerability can you really love the magic of life.

Allow rule changes. Kids make up games and change the rules constantly. As adults we tend to think the rules of life are fixed. They are not. As soon as we break them we call it play. It's actually just called life. All of life is play, we just have an oppportunity to see it that way. Creativity and courage are the essence of leadership.

Yes. Say Yes to the mess. Make a mess! Yes to the finger paint in the hair and chocolate syrup everywhere. Spill milk? Play in it before you clean it up. Not afraid to mess up in life? All your interviews, projects and toasts will go much better...your confidence and spontaneity will have you, and others, laughing through the game of life.

Balancing playing with wild abandon and responsibilty is what has life work. Most of us have the responsibility thing down, we work and plan and then rest from all the working and planning.
What if we add play into where we least expect it? What miracles await us in PLAY?

Zen Honeycutt

Pop! The Sound of Shift Happening in Parenting

That magical triumphant moment when your child discovers something new and accomplishes something they have never accomplished before has a special sacredness today. Bronson announced he would write "Pop" and he wrote "Pop" this morning, intentionally, for the first time,and his faced glowed with pride and glory.
He wrote it backwards, which in this case, resulted in his intended word, and I began to think...

After Newtown, CT. I am painfully aware that mothers in Connecticut will not have those moments with their children. My heart feels heavy with sadness for them. But then I look at my children, playing a game before breakfast, making up new rules, and I am absorbed into their world.

"Okay Ben, make up the rules," Bodee says.
"Okay. First you have to get past the monsters. Then you have to cross over the bridge of trolls otherwise you fall into the dino slime. And if you land here, you get death by monkeys." Ben says as chief authoritarian.
"And then you have to eat your underwear." Bodee adds with glee.
Bronson cackles,"And the monkey poops on your head!"
They love it. They nibble on their breakfast as they play.
I watch them laugh, make up more new rules, disagree with each other and work it out by agreeing on more gross rules that involve bodily functions.
I have noticed the sadness form my heart has lifted and I have "popped", expanded outside of my bubble...with gratitude.
I get to cherish each moment that my children "Pop" and discover something new. I get to whisper to them how wonderful they are after they lose. I get to smell the tops of their heads when they come in for a hug. I get to kiss soft squishy cheeks and hold their warm little hands. I get to.

I started this blog to share authentically, the breakdowns and breakthroughs I have in parenting and to document the journey. I hope to inspire along the way, a shift from "having" our kids be another thing on the "to do" list...like I "have to" make lunches, I "have to" get them to school, I "have to" wipe his butt...
to I "get to".

I see a shift in parenting that is just there for us all to step into, repeatedly, myself included, a shift from "have to" (which equals being a victim of life) to Opportunity. Pop!

Sometimes people don't want to read about inspiring breakthroughs though. We tell ourselves it's not really true that a person could be that calm or be that happy during chaos. I know I don't always believe it. Plus, it could be just plain boring. There is no drama in "happy happy joy joy" all the time.

But when something horrific like Sandy Hook happens, the pain grabs us, the unbelievable drama (which has us feel really "alive") draws us in, and then something does shift inside us...the fear of loss wakes up gratitude like a hibernating bear.
But like a bears growl, the fear of impending harm grips our hearts and we find ourselves hugging our kids with desperation.

It's not the way I hoped the shift would occur for parents in America, because fear is a reaction and can cause more fear and suppression of self expression.
"Don't talk to boy!", "No you cannot have that Buzz Light Year gun!" or even "Go tell that boy you are sorry!" can all come from fear of something bad happening...
But like Bronson writing "Pop" backwards, perhaps it takes a tragedy to see parenting as an opportunity, to see our children with patience, gratitude and cherish every, (or at least more) moment(s) with them. Perhaps, by looking, we will see things differently, we will "Pop!" and have the same result.

My hope is that the shift in parenting will happen for each of us, continuously, not because of a fear, but because of sheer joy in who they are and in who we get to be as parents. We will let go of the sadness, get down on all fours, play with them on the rug and run around as Superman with them even though we have "a lot of work to do".

What I am taking on is releasing the grip and growl of fear...and hushing the hissing anger that is runs like an under current of electricity towards our government....and channeling that energy to something positive. Causing the POP! for myself. Like Bronson, declaring I am going to do it and then do it.

I get to clean up their stinky socks. I get to listen when they are screaming about unfairness. I get to write to the White House. I get to make dinner and remind them to clean up the table. I get to.

Love to you and yours,
Zen Honeycutt

5 Ways that Work in Parenting

Sometimes you want to park your kid on the curb with a sign that says "Free". Sometimes, even when tragic things happen to other people's kids, your kid still drives you crazy. You wonder why you can be so stressed out by your kid when you know that you should appreciate them even being alive. It's not easy. Or maybe it is.


How to Be Inspired by Your Children

1. Turn off the news.
Watching bad things happening in the world only makes you fearful and demanding of your children to behave a certain way so bad things won't happen to them.

2. Turn your attention on them.
They have all the magic and entertainment you need in one pinky finger. Focus on them and your world will suddenly be wonderful, promising, fun and delightful.

3. Turn off the voice in your head.
You know the one that says, "He shouldn't do that." or "She should know better." or "Why are they giving me such a hard time?"
The judgement of your children only put you in a place of angst. They are doing exactly what occurs to them as the best thing to do.

4. Turn on your listening.
Find out how their world occurs to them. Ask them, "Hey buddy, can you tell me what's up?" or "Sweetie can you tell me what you want? or "Wow, what's going on, how do you feel?" Just get in their world. The experience could be like slipping on their itchy footy pajamas or sitting in a mud puddle of their feelings. Just do it. Don't fix it. All they want is to be heard.

5. Play.
Create reasons to play with your kids. Make up games, make up ways to win, make up magical whimsical stories and ask them to join in. Play at breakfast, play at homework, play on car rides and when folding laundry. See them as an opportunity for fun and your whole world will expand with love.

Whenever your children are driving you to the brink of insanity, pick any one of these tips, no matter how opposite they seem to your automatic way of reacting, and try them out. When they feel heard and you are inspired by each other, they will listen and everything will work.

All children want is our attention. All we want is their attention so that life together works.
Give what you want.
Receive more than you ever imagined.
Be inspired by your children.

Zen Honeycutt

How to Live Life Like Christmas Morning

I got a text from my mother in law. "Please have the boys write out a list of five things they want for Christmas." I could hear them scampering about downstairs. School was out and they had forgotten to tell their brains they could sleep in. Like roosters, they were up boasting and beating up pillows with bravado, forming a castle to anhilialte all castles. When that was done, the squabbling started.

"Boys!" I beckoned as I walked down the stairs."Nana wants you to write out the five things you want for Christmas!"
All ears perked up. They froze and then dashed to find paper and any available writing utensil. A highliter, broken, naked crayon, they didn't care.
"Get some paper and write it out neatly." I directed needlessly, for they were well on their way.
Like a masterful magician, my eldest son wiped out a two foot chart with thirty toys listed, complete with pictures cut out from magazines, secured on with several layers of tape as if to protect it from a hurricane. How the heck did he produce that so fast I wondered...but my train of thought was broken by his clear and concise explanation he was launching into of each item.
I interrupted him...
"That's great sweetie, but Nana only wants five. You cannot give her that list."
"Oh, okay." he said, a bit disappointed...then he perked up. "I will pick my TOP five." And he did.
Then he helped Bronson pick five things and began to write his list for him....with items from HIS two foot list, so he could get more vicariously and I had to intervene and redirect Bronson to what HE wanted.Ben acquiesced and helped by writing down yet another version of Toy Story 3 toy that Bronson quite surprisingly does not have yet.
They wrote carefully, and with utter focus. They wrote happily and quickly, yet with the utmost care to spell everything correctly. They sounded out each word and didn't lift their eyes from their task until they were completely satisfied that their list was a masterpiece.
I stood in wonder.
See, flash back to a few month ago, when it was high summer and I feared their brains might be beginning to rot from lack of academic use...would they remember how to write coherent sentences after a three month break?
So one morning I sat them down and said "This morning you are going to write a story." I put pencil and paper before them and their bodies deflated before me with utter despair.
"WHAT? Noooooooooooo. Uhhhhhhh unnnnnnn....noooooooo."
"What? What are we going to write about? I don't wanna. I can't think of anything...but my hand hurts...I'm hungry...."
The complaints tested my patience like an elephant on a tightrope.
It was such an ordeal to get them to write a paragraph. They whined and whimpered for twenty minutes. Then after they were done, they sulked for another twenty, as if I had punished them and our trust was broken forever.

It occurred to me that the difference between this morning's request to write out a Christmas list and my previous request to write a story about anything they wanted...required the same exact action. One just occurred to them as much more exciting. The result would be of benefit to them, it would be thrilling and appealed to them because of the great promise of a fantastic result. The other, albeit the same exact actions, occurred to them as just writing to write, just doing to do.

I realized that, in life we react to how a situation OCCURS to us, how we see it, not how it is. If we want to live a life of excitement, focus, enjoyment and mastery, all we need to do is simply shift how that situation occurs to us. Creating an action as an opportunity, and seeing an end goal which excites us, even if we don't have control over the final result, is what has us live life fully.

So where ever I am in life, even when the future seems to be getting bleak, my children inspire me to make it a fantastic game...to envision an end goal where I am delighted, connected to people I love and jumping up and down ecstatically. Because I get to say how I see the world, and when I am present to the inspiration my children are, I choose a view that has me buzz with anticipation like Christmas morning.

Zen Honeycutt

Playing Games in Life

As my boys get older, how they want to play changes. A Mom friend asked me, "Does your son (oldest 9yr old) still PLAY?"
I asked, "Like imaginary play?"
"Ya, with toys." she said. My brain hiccuped, you mean someday he won't do that? Oh man,of course....they grow up...what a bummer, I thought.
"Yes, sometimes...he is starting to want to play video games more, when usually that is my 7 yr old. That one is a gamer. But they both play together still...hide and seek,legos...I love it. I think it's so good for them, to play."

"Oh, well , my friend's son is about 9 and he doesn't want to play anymore. He just wants to read or play video games on his Dsi, by himself, so when he comes over, I don't know what to do with him."

We talked about "that stage" in life when boys suddenly see toys as babyish and retreat into a world of their own, where play is restricted and being cool or aloof is the way to be. It's heartbreaking to a Mom and sad to family members, it's like something dissipates...the sense of play, picking them up, twirling them around, getting down on the floor with them...floats out the back door like a wisp of a ghost...but doesn't have to be that way.

"I think it's important to keep playing with your kid," I add, "to show them that playing together, no matter how old you are, is important."

I flash back to when I was a kid. My parents would invite their best friends over and after dinner we would all play a board game. It didn't matter that I was 7 and they were 58. We all played together, joked, laughed and someone won fair and square. Sometimes my father, brother, and Fred would disappear to the Rec Hall, where they played a few rounds of pool. Sometimes I would break the unspoken code and sneak in in and join them, watching them strategize, discuss politics and hit the balls across the felt into the deep green pockets. They didn't drink alcohol either, they just joked and talked and had fun completely sober. Looking back, I admire that, what an example of enjoying life that is and being present and clear. The game created the excitement, it was the glue that held together the real reason for playing, which was just to be together.

Soon after that I began to hunt down a foosball table. The pickings on Craigslist were thin and far away. I almost forgot about it. I bought a bunch of board games at a rummage sale for 25 cents each and they played Life constantly for a few days. Then A neighbor invited us over and the boys went nuts on their foosball table..shrieking, cackling, high fiving. It was awesome.
So I checked Craigslist again, (I love the principal of not paying retail), and found a game table, with five games, foosball, ping pong, pool, bowling and hockey for 65 dollars. I was thrilled to drive to Trabuco, pay the kind man and squeeze it into our mini van.

Since then the challenges to play are daily and delightful. Their loud hootin' and hollerin' is a sign of living life fully to me. The competition gets your blood going and the camaraderie builds confidence in our family unit. Last night we played with our exchange student and even though I lost I was clear we have all won.

Games expand the present moment, create something that was not there in the previous moment. One second you are sitting, wondering whether or not to wash the dishes, or if you are a kid, why your brother chews like that....and the next minute you are facing off your opponent, heart rate pumping, body buzzing, screaming like a girl who just lost her balloon or a boy who just won the rodeo. Why is that? It's because of the way the world occurs to us. One minute the world occurs as mundane, the next, it occurs as a challenge...and we rise to challenge. We don't have to ever stop playing. We have a choice. Choosing to be challenged creates connections in the world, gets us off the proverbial couch and jumping into life.

So when LIFE occurs to us as mundane or hard or too much, even overwhelming...all there is to do is to shift how it occurs to us, and play a GAME in life.
Just like a game, where we make up that the ball is better off not here, but over there, we can make up that our bodies are better not here, but running a marathon, or selling 2x more product, or our kids can make up that their body is better of winning a gold medal or being able to earn a badge or championship. And when your marathon gets cancelled, as in NYC after hurricane Sandy, many of the runner chose to play a new game, called supporting the survivors and volunteering downtown. That is a game worth playing!
They are all games, made up for us to expand that present moment, to further deepen enjoying what is before us, be it a friend, a soccer ball or a job that provides income for adventures, home and food. Make it a game and no matter what it is, we will all soon be shrieking with delight.

Zen Honeycutt

Being a Family of Agtivists

Approaching strangers with something to give them has got to be one of the most confronting things a person could do. Making eye contact for that brief second then looking down at your out streached hand with the flyer in it, willing them with your gaze to look and reach out and accept. When they do, that connection, that moment of acceptance creates an internal sigh of relief and a boom of joy in your heart. You get bolder and look them in the eye again and say "Thank you". Your gratitude tells them, "This means so much, because our world means so much, because you mean so much." We may not know each other but for that brief second we are connected and they matter to a complete stranger, not just because of their vote, but because they create the world we all live in.

My children and I loaded up on Prop 37 flyers and went to the Irvine Global Village Festival yesterday. It was so hot that my three year old's bangs glued to his forehead with sweat and he threw down his hat in protest. Before we approached I rallied the troops and we sorted out what we were going to say.
"Can I give this to you about Prop 37?"
"Do you know about GMO's?"
"Please vote Yes on Prop 37..."
"Mom, say another one..." Bodee requested. He needed to find one that was easy for him to roll off his tongue. One that he related to. He settled on " Will you help label GMO's?"
Ben chose "Please vote YES to label GMO's."
Bronson just said, "Here."

Each had their own way, all was okay. With unity in our hesitation but armed with determination, we walked through the throngs of thousands of families, shoppers, teens and diverse groups of people and began passing out flyers.
The kids lost their words at first, and then found them again. When the first person accepted their bodies sighed and they gained confidence that had them stand taller. Some Persian ladies even stopped and asked for their flyers. These kind people have no idea, or maybe they do....of the contribution they made to my sons in accepting what they had to offer. My sons made a difference, but only because people let them.

We walked through the festival passing out flyers. Sometimes it was confronting, people shook their heads NO before we could even get two words out. Sometimes their hands were full so we didn't bother to approach them. Other times they reached gratefully for what we had, trusting, accepting, and sometimes they stopped and we sensed we had a moment to share more about the issue. They listened, looked over the material, shared a story of their own and we look into each other's eyes with joy in finding a kindred soul who learns, cares and shares about the same thing. Our world felt safer, connected and stronger because someone else out there cares and shares just as much.

We made our way to the children's section and there, practically dragging and dripping with sweat, I heard my sons to the shady craft table and take their flyers from them. They earned shady craft time. Their father finds us after parking and stands in the sliver of slight coolness with them while I venture out again. He supports my passion and I love every bit of his patience.

I never used to be this person, the one with the flyer, the one who got in the face of strangers about a political issue. The one who would get over her fears of looking like a loon and do it anyway. It's so freeing to share. I feel so fulfilled when my two stacks of flyers run out and my bag is much lighter. I have shared with maybe a hundred or two people in an hour and all I want to do is share longer.
I can't wait to go to another gathering or just to stand on the street. I know now why people become activist, or in this case Agtivists, because connecting with other people and sharing about something that matters to us, is, an act of setting aside the fear and fulfilling on who we really are...beings who make a difference in other people's lives. We are all in this life together.
There are people who don't want to know and then there are people who want to know.
They may not know what it is, but they are willing, open and that openness doesn't just allow them to be contributed to, they actually contribute to others.
To those people who accepted a contribution from my sons and I yesterday, thank you for your generosity and graciousness.
You create the world in which I am proud to have my sons grow up.

Zen Honeycutt

"Mommy, I'm going to die tomorrow."

As boys do, whether you sequester them in a room full of flowers and peace signs or not, they were playing "killing the bad guys dead," or something of the sort. I don't remember the exact words. But I do remember the words that came out of my three year old's mouth next.
"Mommy, I'm going to die tomorrow." he said.
"What?" I sputtered without thinking. He simply nodded his head.
Now the "Inspired Parent" would simply ask why, or what had him say that...get into his world. I admit I was not inspired at that moment. I was freaking out just a little bit.
See, my boys have been known to say prophetic stuff. Ben once shouted out "One thousand dollars!" from a different room, just when I was thinking it would be great to have a "thousand dollar day" in sales for my business. And I did.
That wasn't the only time either. Bodee just KNOWS things, his brain is uncanny sometimes. Even Bronson has an intuition beyond his years.
Kids know stuff.
So when he said that he was going to die tomorrow, my brain screeched into reverse, to rewind, tried to erase and couldn't. What if what he just said was a prophecy? What if.... I couldn't fathom it. I asked him not to talk like that. He opened his eyes wide just for a second, meaningfully, nodded and kept playing. I was completely unraveled, and walked away wondering what I had on the calendar for tomorrow. I immediately planned to just stay home in the morning and was relieved we were simply walking to the neighbors or pool time in the afternoon. That was safe enough, walking...but at the pool I knew I would be extra alert.

I was also aware that I was the one, not him, making those words mean anything. They were just words. He might not even really know what it means, besides something bad. Or he might know, (he has experienced Great Grandma dying) and be saying them just for effect, just like he says "Mommy I can fly," or "Mommy I am going to get that panda for a pet tomorrow," when he is looking at a real one at the zoo. Yeah, right son. But say those other words, the ones about dying, and suddenly I am panicking inside and being extra vigilant.

After a while I let go of the fear. I chose not to let it turn me into a harpy for the next 24 hours. I began to soften and just get present to my sons. When Bronson came in for a snuggle, I snuggled, smoothing his soft brown hair with extra tenderness, and kissing his slightly sunburned cheeks until he squirmed away with glee. I tickled him for good measure and let him crawl under the mommy tunnel that my knees made when propping up the lap top in my lap even though it made it really challenging to write. I let him pull the pillows off the sofa for the the third time that day and build a nest. I acknowledged his brothers for playing nicely with him and gave them all gold stars. My son, all my sons, were suddenly a hundred times more precious. I was present to the fact that I really did not know if Bronson or if any of my sons would be alive in 24 hours.

When my husband came home, before I left for my seminar and he took them out for the Cub Scout Pack Bowling night. I pulled him aside and told him what Bronson said and said, "I know it is completely silly, I know his words really don't mean anything, but can you just do me a favor and drive the car tonight like their lives depend on you? Not like I don't trust your driving, but be aware of the crazies, ok?"
He looked at me with clarity and I got that he got it. This was our boy's life we were talking about. He didn't blow me off. He just said "Yes, I will," and I felt heard and safe and I trusted him.

As I drove away, I got that he, we, could die any day. And when I leave I trust my husband with their lives every time. I also trust myself with their lives. And even if I couldn't stop something horrific from happening, I can be present to them everyday as if it were our last. I can let go of the petty things. I can look back and see their smiling faces and shout, "I love you all!" from the car, loud enough to wake the neighbors. Because I want them to be left with those words, with my love.

The Colorado shootings have me too sad to comprehend the senseless loss. I don't think about it or post about it because I don't want to expand that loss in the world. We never know how long we have. I want to focus on the time we do have.
Today my dear friend's friend died in a motorcycle accident. The last words she said to him were "I love you." She has no regrets in her relationship with him.She has loss but no regrets. She expressed what there was to say. She inspires me.

When I came home the most beautiful thing in the world was my Bronson sleeping on the rug next to Daddy and his big brother. Alive. Safe. Here.
I sigh with relief and tear up with joy at the sight of his presence.
I whisper "I love you."
Everyday is a gift. Every word only means what we make it mean.
Yes, he might die on a different tomorrow, we all might, everyday... in fact we will dies, someday. But in this moment right here, right now, we are here....so now what?
Are we going to choose to be fearful, safe and anxious? Or busy, resentful or irritated? Are we going to choose to regret or yell or ignore?

Or will we snuggle a little longer and whisper jokes in their ears? Will we call our loved ones? Will we choose fun, play and love? Will we choose gratitude, delight and discovery? Will we choose to be present?

Here is to TODAY.

Zen Honeycutt

Igniting Freedom Around the Campfire

The bonfire on the beach is cracking and blowing thin streams of smoke and flecks of orange embers towards the shore. My bubbly blond college friend, her vivacious children and her friend's children all huddle in for warmth and start asking who has a scary story or song. Now normally, my kids and we would sit back and enjoy the entertainment and just join the chorus. They would settle in for a cuddle and shake their heads when we whispered to them to get up and share a song. Their face would get resistant and reticent. I would start wishing I had remembered the words to the songs I sang around fires as a kid and start wondering when I had "lost it."

Last night was totally different. My kids were the first ones up, bouncing and loud, clear and delighted to share all by themselves. They had done Cub Scout camp a few weeks ago and they were heavily armed with an artillery of silly and slightly disastrous or vulgar songs. The fact that they were doing them, and that people were laughing and clapping was joy enough. But what moved me to tears was the joy my boys expressed. The unabashed confidence. The delight and wiggly glee. The direct eye contact and smiles from ear to ear. They were thrilled to give fun to others. That has me so moved, so in love with who they are as human beings...I couldn't be any happier. A child fully self expressed awakens the love of life we all have, but we squelch.
We remember that we still love camp songs and silly jokes. We hold our breath when another person's child tells a joke, silently praying that they remember the punch line and it goes well, so that they are not embarrassed and traumatized later in life. Because we were. Somewhere along the line, most of us adults forgot the words to a song or told a joke and got laughed at or booed at instead of laughed with. Some where along the line we decided that not getting up in front of people was safer.
And then we see children get up and speak, dance, sing and make goofy faces in front of everyone, it's like SCORE! Score one for the human race! We still got it! We rock! We will NOT be shut down by fear, resignation or doubt. We will chant! We will sing! We will be goofy and mess up and we will ROCK ON!
So sing out fellow campers and beach goers...rock out parents and adults and kids. Together we stand for full self expression, joy and delight! Bring on the potty talk songs... and belt out the burp accented jokes, it is now, officially THE BEST SUMMER EVER.

Zen Honeycutt
P.S. THANK you to the Cub Scout organization!

Link to Cub Scout Campfire songs
http://www.boyscouttrail.com/boy-scouts/boy-scout-songs.asp

Monsters and Bad Guys

This morning I got up earlier than I usually do because my middle son announced that Bronson had left the hose on all night. As I walked through the kitchen I remembered that it is "My Surprise Thursday," one of the theme days I made up for each day of the summer. So I pondered what would be a nice surprise....and what would matter to the kids. (It would be a nice surprise for me if they all did the windows and cleaned the grouting but I concede that surprises are better when fun for everyone.)
I thought of Bronson not wanting to sleep in his own bed last night. When I asked him why, he described in adorable detail how a monster would try to get in his window and eat his "nosey". I agreed that that would not be nice. I just got him. Soon he was talking about how we made cookies and the monster was temporarily forgotten. But monsters and bad guys are a big deal of a child's life. Most often we parents negate them, shush the child and basically tell them all their fears are unfounded and frivolous. Rather than comforting them, we leave them feeling unheard, unimportant and unloved. Asking our child to tell us more about their fears opens up worlds, creates contentedness, fosters trust and acceptance. It most likely will melt the fears too and allow the child to move on into creativity and empowerment.

So this morning, in what took less than a minute, I grabbed the big roll of paper (inspired by my sister and her daughter's artwork they mailed to us and my brother's artistry of monsters) and unfurled it over the kitchen table. I grabbed a box of crayons and wrote "The Monsters in Our Dreams" and left to have a talk with Bronson about the hose and when we use water.
It turned out that Daddy sheepishly confessed he left it on, when taking out the trash he thought it would be nice to water my herbs...what a sweetheart! How could I be upset about that? It's just water...and money...I realize that no matter who left it on, neither my sons or my husband are the monsters or bad guys. They just want to play and make me happy.

We walk inside after the family talk on water conservation and the kids see the paper and title. As I make breakfast, they start to draw, and draw,and draw...and I join in and soon we are having the most imaginative and fun conversation about monsters and bad guys. I feel my own fears oddly real and then disappear as I draw my childhood bad dream of a windowless tower that I am trapped inside as I am being chased by a witch in circles. An alligator snaps in the water below and as I draw it out it becomes just silly and funny. They describe their Giant Frog, Puffy Muffy Monster and Mr. Alien Butthead. Our morning is delightful. The kids are empowered. We are creatively connected.
Then my reminder alarm goes off and it's "Time to Stretch!". So Bodee leads us in stretches and exercise and I am filled with joy from being surrounded by the good guys.

Zen Honeycutt

What is the Art of Inspired Parenting?

The title of my blog my be construed as: I have the ART of parenting mastered and I am going to share my great Zen wisdom with you.
I wish it were so.
I don't have it mastered. Parenting is relentless and it takes someone being very present to have it be empowering. This blog is my access to empowerment for me, a form of structure to remind me what I am creating and a pathway for me to create.
The title of my blog means that I see parenting as a creative process. It is art itself, constantly creating....relationships, rules, communications, consequences, negotiations... and like art, parenting can be unpredictable and can get messy. Miraculous results can show up when, rather than resisting the "happy accidents" as we call them in the art world, we are inspired and create instead. Inspired means: Of extraordinary quality, as if arising from some external creative impulse.(of a person) Exhibiting such a creative impulse in the activity specified: "an inspired gardener".

Being inspired is created. It is not something that happens to us. Being creative in parenting is essential for optimal results. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the deffinition of insanity...doing the same thing our parents did or didn't do or that the neighbor does...doesn't work with our kids, not always anyway. Doing something just because it always has been that way is not inspired. Parenting from what matters to you and your children, in that instant, creating empowerment rather than regulating and controlling that things go a certain way, is what causes the results you are proud of.

Case in point.

Hot. Hungry. Cooped up in a car for six hours. Bronson starts screaming for Micky Mouse Lollipop.
I ask him to stop.
He won't.
I ask him again.
He screams louder.
I try to distract him with a cracker.
He throws it. And screams til my eardrums vibrate.
The brothers begin to yell and husband begins to drive erratically.
I sense danger and get angry.
I tense and feel helpless and want to smack my screaming two year old into silence.

Then I remember that I am a stand for inspired parenting, and the concept I made up of "creative listening"...so instead I ask,
"What kind of lollipop do you want Bronson?"
"Mickey Mouse!" exasperated with my lack of hearing.
"Oh...Mickey Mouse...and would that be a red lollipop?"
He stops screaming and thinks.
"Noooo, CHEESE!"
"Oh! I see it now, a cheese lollipop!" How delightful! "That's awesome Bronson!"
"YES!" he puffs emphatically, beginning to calm and sniff.
"A yellow cheese lollipop? With ears?" I asked, painting the picture...creating his world.
"Yes, with holes in it!" he says. How cool a totally new concept to me.
"How would eat it?"
"Like a mouse." he says, pantomiming nibbling.
Suddenly everyone in the car is smiling. Miracle!
Crisis averted long enough for Dad to pull into restaurant.

My son and I are left inspired by the imagination of his world rather than trying to suppress it and shut him down. We could have been angry, frustrated and guilty, yelling and resisting eachother instead, I dove into his world, he let me in, and we were connected, he was acknowledged and I was delighted.
I write this blog to be inspired by life. Through my writing I get present. Through getting present I wonder. Through wondering I can see things I never saw before and by creating and expressing what I see I am present again to the miracles in life.
So if you are inspired, that is a bonus. My hopes it that you simply get present to yourself and your life, whether you are a parent or not, and see the miracles around you that are already there...and create some as well.

Love,
Zen Honeycutt

Lasagna Waiting

This week my husband came home with news. A person on his team got a higher paying job and and is moving on. Just before a major deadline. Just before our vacation. My husband told me what was so...the project, the shortage of people, the importance to the division etc. He wasn't going to go with us.And as my heart sank and tears welled up, I got present to the way it could go. Either I could be mad and make him wrong for a lack of planning or whatever my brain could make up....or I could survive the situation and have others survive me...or I could create something.
In that moment I chose not to have my sons see my tears of loss... about the time spent with their Daddy. Instead I asked my husband to sit down and explain it to them and when I was presentable, I sat down and added that Daddy is doing this because he is committed to our family. I put honor and respect in. No make wrong. Even though every fiber of my being want to scream, cry, cajole or squash him like a bug...I didn't.
But I was still upset.

I knew that my upset was an unfullfilled expectation and resided with me. And I was still experiencing upset.
I called my accountability buddy on the way to my Breakthrough seminar and let it rip. She listened to every angry and self pitying thing I had to say and got it. By the time I got to my seminar I was actually present to wanting to cause a breakthrough for myself in not having things go my way, but being with the way they are and creating something new.
Of course, who do I happen to sit by, and listen to sharing from, is a father who talked about work and resisting it and housework an family life. It was perfect.
It dawned on me, and this will be obvious to you, but it wasn't to me at the time, I was just stewing in my resentment...10 months of planning, a wedding...thousands of dollars...the only time we see my family...our anniversary...etc...

Then I got it.
His point of view.

HE wants to go on this vacation. He wants to spend time with us. Of course he would prefer to go! AND he is taking a stand for providing for us and having integrity with his company. Suddenly I was at peace and present to honor and respect. I was present to the love I felt for him and how sad he must be to miss being with us.
I was present to him being a responsible adult and I gave up my upset.

I began to speculate ideas to create fun for him...having the kids make notes for Daddy and leave them around the house each day, video conferencing and having my sons take pictures and text them to Daddy. Thanking him each day for providing us with the vacation to see my family. Making it fun for him anyway and having him being acknowledged for the extraordinary human being that he is.
I put in acknowledgement that night and instead of ranting about coulda, woulda, shoulda, we talked about what is important to him.
The next day I made a lasagna for the first time in years and he came home to a house warm with delicious smells, waiting for him and grateful for him.

Life doesn't always go the way we want it. Being powerful or happy is not about NOT having breakdowns, it is about having love, acknowledgement and honor present and creating something in the face of breakdowns.

Zen Honeycutt

STOPPED

I cheer as we drive by a telephone pole plastered with KONY 2012 posters. My kids wonder why I am cheering and I tell them,"There is a very sick man who captures children in Africa and makes them go to war. The posters I just saw were put up last night by people who want him to stop. They want the government to know it's not okay. Children should be taken care of. Mommy put up posters last night too."
Ben smiled a very fulfilled looking smile. "Thank you Mom."

"Mom, I can get the bad guy, " Bronson declared. "I can."

"That's great Bronson. That's the point of these posters, if one of us does something, and then one more...we can stop him."

"I can stop him because I am good at fighting," he added with gusto. A three year old. What imagination.
I am inspired by how brave and confident he is. He can stop him.

It occured to me then, that a lot of people at one point, that week that the KONY video was circulated, A LOT of people believed we could stop him. We were all inspired. We were passionate, ready to take action, and sharing with everyone. April 20 seemed so far away to wait to take action. We wanted him stopped now! 100 million people around the world saw and shared the video. The most viral video ever.

Then the news hit of the founder of Invisible Children having a breakdown, running naked in the streets. It was devastating to the movement. It was devastating to me. There was an unspoken embarrassment for so fervently promoting anything related to a man who can't keep his clothes on. People found all kinds of reasons to make him bad, immoral and wrong. I even debated heatedly with a Facebook friend. It deeply disturbed me how wrong this person made Jason Russell and how it all seemed a cop out for actually participating in causing a global movement. I was sad for days. Not just for the children, but for humanity.

I got today that the great disappointment many of us felt, the betrayal of the founder action's, the fizzling of the movement, was actually a breakdown in our commitment to have leaders with integrity.
What we want, as a people, is leaders with integrity. That is great. That is inspiring! That is a good thing to be committed to. Sometimes there will be breakdowns. President's will have affairs, congressman will lie, activists will get drunk and act out. So what?

The question is, will that stop US from taking action on the areas of our society that we are committed to?
What I realized, last night as I went out with posters in hand, by myself, was that I wasn't promoting Jason Russell. I was taking a stand for children.
Children being cared for, fed and safe is a commitment that is universal. No matter what you think about Invisible Children, what KONY is doing is worth doing something about stopping him. Every single person in the world that heard about KONY, deep inside, wanted to do something last night.
Some did. Some didn't. Some were stopped. So what?

Whatever you did, and it doesn't have to be putting up posters, how can you expressed what you are committed to?
How can you let the government know that children deserve, no matter where they are born, to be cared for?


Zen Honeycutt

Love and the New Year

Last night, during the throes of a New Year Party, confetti strewn on the floor, groups of friends gathered and chatting, my friend Katy pointed across the room with her head. I looked. There was my 8, almost 9, year old son sitting on the couch with her daughter. Their arms were wrapped around each other comfortably, and they watched the party on TV snuggled in each other's embrace. Awwwww....we all smiled and gazed at their unabashed affection. I told her how he resisted a shower until I told him her daughter was coming. She told me how her daughter changed her clothes when she learned she was going to see Ben. She confessed she was a little concerned though...with this "starting" so soon. I was very present to how different it is for parents of girls than boys. I really wasn't concerned. Later, I did have a moment of telling them to "break it up" but it was of concern for the girl and her parents' concern, not for Ben. I had no radar going off to protect him. Of course I don't want him to get hurt emotionally, but that primal fear for his well being and safety is not there like it is for parents of girls. I shared with her how I asked Ben, when he was 5 what he would do if he had a girlfriend and he said "I would do a puppet show for her, bring her a flower and maybe hold her hand." Awwww...well that's okay then I said.

I checked in with him again tonight and he said that having her as a special friend felt really special. It meant that they would hug sometimes. He might make a picture for her or write to her. He was clear that he asked her not to tell his friends as school that they were boyfriend and girlfriend and she agreed. I celebrated his communication with her and hugged him silly with joy. He loves. I love that he loves and shares his love.

They hugged each other fiercely before she left. After the door closed Ben said dreamily,"Okay, I am going to float to my room now." and walked upstairs. Something leaped in my heart. He was in love. I clapped my hands together gleefully after he left, "My party was a success! Two people fell in love!" My girlfriends giggled with me and we relished the joy of love.

Yes, there will be hurt and sadness in the future, there will be lots of bliss too. I will probably need to remind them to do more playing together and maybe a little less hugging...or not. I get that as they grow I will need to continually check in on what "having a girlfriend means," It will change. Our children benefit from guidance and rules and we will put that in. For now, I am clear that as we kick in the New Year, our family is overflowing with love. We wish you the same.
Thank you dear friends, for being the kind of people that are so easy to love.

Zen Honeycutt

Smart Ass

My three year old is a Smart Ass. I think we all may start out like that for a while, but he is hanging on to it.
He knows the alphabet, but instead he taunts me with "y,y,y,z,z,z!!!!" He knows the color is green, but instead, when asked, he smiles coyly at me and says happily, "PINK!"
My paranoid mother brain projects him in psych class in college. He will be the one, when asked for an essay on "What is self examination?" that answers with one sentence "Why did you ask me this?".

I know really, I have nothing to worry about, but you know, I am a Mom and sometimes I do. What if my kid fails just because he doesn't care about succeeding?

What if my kid is really smart but just doesn't give a rat's ass about other people knowing it?

What if learning is not about being able to regurgitate it in a way that pleases everyone else?

Wait when I think about that, that is pretty awesome. Google would not exist of the creators were concerned with showing what they had learned in a way that other people expected. No they created, and did what they loved, and THEN people go it.
They took what they learned and transformed it, they didn't spit it out exactly as everyone else would have.
THAT's the kind of learning I want to encourage. I will continue to ask Bronson and my older boys to write beyond what the teachers expect them to do, to use their knowledge for whatever THEY want. When I think about it that way, I have peace and faith and even excitement about whatever they create...
Why not have learning be fun?

I learn from my kids constantly. So today, I am taking on being a Smart Ass today in the most fun way...saying things people least expect, expressing myself in a FUN way, letting go of concern about what others think and transforming what I learn into something new.
How about you?

Zen Honeycutt

Back to School and Getting the RIGHT Teacher

I see the increased emails going back and forth in my Moms Club and hear the parents at the pool talking in hushed tones, "Which teacher did you request? Do you know anything about Miss. Jessica? What about Miss. Lori*? I heard she was...I hope my kids don't get..."

I totally get the anxiety and anticipation of our children's experience at school. I used to bite my nails when I opened the letter from the preschool. I used to get a serious, scrunched face when other Moms talked about their children's teachers and listen intently to see what my child's future might hold. I totally get the utter and complete devotion it takes for a Mom to be committed so much to her child that which teacher her child gets consumes her being. That's love. That's dedication.
I just don't feel that way anymore.
And it's not because I don't love my child or care about which teacher they have.
Of course I want them to have the best teacher. Of course I love my child and would kill bears for them and maybe even picket outside a Principal's home if I thought it would make a difference.
That's my point. It won't make a difference, at least not the difference that matters to my husband and I.
Years ago, when I considered sending my children to private school even though we live in Irvine, which is touted as one of the best school districts in Southern California, my husband said seriously to me, "I want our children to be able to excel no matter what educational experience they have. We live in this great community and I want the kids to know the kids in their neighborhood and go to this good school with them." Ok. End of story. And I agree.

His point is that it is our responsibility as parents and our children's responsibility for their own lives that makes the real difference.
It is totally normal for we humans to have the idea that a certain teacher will CAUSE a certain EFFECT or result in our child's education and therefore cause a certain future of success, mediocrity or failure... therefore, we must CAUSE our kids to have the best teacher. It's survival of the fittest. It's anxiety ridden. It's never ending.
It's also dis-empowering.

See, if we follow this CAUSE and EFFECT idea, then a certain teacher will cause a certain effect and that is that. The child is stuck with that teacher and then stuck with the limited results...leading to a limited future. We can never time travel go back to the past and change which teacher our kids gets assigned to, how they were treated or taught or what the results were. The teacher defines our child's future.

So to be a normal human being and to live by CAUSE and EFFECT in any area...if that happens then this will happen..and then I will feel this way and oh well, we'll see.. is so dis-empowering I want to rant and rave and shake people by the shoulder and hug it out of them when I hear it in casual conversation.
Here's where I beg you to get the impact of, this Cause and Effect Poppycock in education:

What message does the anxiety we have over a certain teacher, certain school, certain talented program, say about our CHILDREN? What does this Cause and Effect idea say about what THEY are capable of, responsible for, or what is possible for them???
This idea that our children must have a certain teacher, education, school or scholarship to excel in life is totally dis-empowering. It makes them small. It makes them a victim of the system. It makes them At The Effect of something else, outside of them. Our child's power no longer lies with them, it is over there with that teacher, right or wrong.
It also puts all of the responsibility on the teachers. What kind of experience is that for the teachers and principals if they feel like we as parents NEED to have a certain classroom, at a certain time, with a certain teacher in order for the mystical minutia of our child's life to magically line up and create a successful school experience and life FOR them?
I suggest this shows a lack of trust in ourselves as parents and in our children's capabilities. Which is human, it's normal, it's just not, again, empowering.

There are two kinds of points of view we can have about life:
Dis-empowering or Empowering.
I choose Empowering. For everyone.

I do not imply here that the teachers don't matter. Teachers are extraordinary. Their education, style and commitment matter.They matter and they make a difference. They just don't define my children's future. My children do.
I chose to focus on empowering my child for the coming school year, and creating with them that WHATEVER teacher THEY get is the PERFECT teacher for them. Their classroom is perfect, their school is perfect and all they need to do is show up with their perfect selves and PARTNER with their teacher in their education, CREATING their own education and experience in life.

For those of you who scoff and say, well, your kid goes to a Blue Ribbon school, sure you can say that perfect BullS^%T. My kid goes to a dump of a school and their teacher is a lazy jerk.
I got it. That sucks. AND you CHOOSE to send your kid to school there even if you think you don't have a choice. We all have choice. If you can't afford a better area, move to a different state, if you can't get a better job to do that, pull your kid out and home school. If you both need to work just to put food on the table (not Gucci on your wrist), then look your kid in the eye and tell them something like,
"This school is what it is, it may not be pretty and the teachers may do what they do. That's what just what they do.In the meantime, we KNOW you will excel no matter what. That's how smart you are and how much we believe in you. No matter the situation is at school, we want you to ask yourself, Are you proud of who YOU are BEING?"

If the situation doesn't seem right, we can teach our kids, no matter what, to be committed, to have integrity, responsibility and generosity. Because in the long run, that CEO of a company or Investor is not going to hire or partner with our kids because they had Miss. Jessica instead of Miss. Lori...or because of their grades and what they KNOW. They will partner and create with our kid and our kids will make a difference in this world and be successful because of who they are BEING. And if our children is proud of who he or she is being, THAT is success.

Zen Honeycutt

Not that they need it, but to find out more about a program for your child 8-13yrs that empowers them to have integrity, responsibility and generosity, look up The Landmark Forum for Young People at www.landmarkeducation.com
And no I do not get compensated in anyway from Landmark, I just love this program!

* These names are made up and I apologize if they coincide with any real teachers names that may or may not be talked about.

To the Rapture

Is Osama Bin Laden in his rapture? 72 virgins and all that?
As I wake up today to the news that this long hunted enemy of democracy is dead I feel both relief, triumph and darkness at the same time. I do not feel joy. I cannot rejoice in the death of a human life. I can rejoice in perserverance, a stand for freedom and for our brave soliders. But still, killing has taken place.
I wonder though, in the name of Allah, if it was all worth it to Osama and his followers, if his death now actually has him in peace, in his heaven as his religion tells him. In his point of view, he died fighting in the name of his God.

We have visited many places of worship, Buddhist, Greek Orthodox, Lutheran, Methodist, Catholic, and in the past two weeks we have taken our children to two religious events where God, Heaven and afterlife have been of much discussion. Not sure how much my children absorbed while they ran around a park at an evangelical service on Easter morning and the minister spoke of Jesus being alive...or last night while they ran in and out of the Hare Krishna Temple in Laguna Beach and saw the devotees chanting, jumping and dancing...but the exposure was fascinating and important to me. It's important to me that my children are exposed to different ways to pray, to be devoted, to feel the rapture of divine connection, here on earth. The differences are vast and enchanting and a crucial part of being a compassionate and vital human being. There is something to my very core that opposes one way, even my way. That's why I try to remain open. There is no one way to get to heaven I believe. Really. Who says? Only us. Only the God that WE say is important, ( nobody makes God mean something to us but us) so in the end, only we say there is one way.
So standing in Adventure, Love and Learning, our family explores those ways.
At the Chapel service on Easter morning in a gorgeous San Juan Capistrano park, we are touched by the community, the welcoming, the attentiveness to children, fun and generosity. What a wonderful gathering of people devoted to the freedom of every person through choosing to believe that Jesus died for us and he is resurrected. I was moved to tears by the people who bravely chose to stand up and go to the front to chose Jesus Christ as their personal savior. I could relate deeply to the choosing of a new life, of being free from past "sins" (a loaded word for me, I detest the make wrong in it...we are simply human and do things that don't work, that's all) and choosing a pathway which has them assured a place in heaven and most importantly, freedom from worry and concern about that here on earth. I rejoice in their choice. I love their courage and connectedness to others. As they drape their arms around each other at the front of the stage, I cry tears of relatedness and relief for them. We all want to be free. They are free.

At the Hare Krishna Temple, sitting on a smooth, cool tile floor, I was fascinated by the presentation of the hundreds or thousands of temples around the world, curious about the words when the chanting began and soothed by the slow movement that began to ripple across the colorful crowd in the incensed temple. I swayed with them, gazing at the sensual blue figures of goddess and gods, manifested from Hare Krishna, a figure much like the Dali Lama who reincarnates over and over again. My eyes feasted on the apples, bananas, oranges and strawberries that decorated the stage, windowsills and alter, like sprinkles in this sacred temple. The woman wore bright saris, dresses, skirts and glowed with femininity. The men mostly wore white, varied between shaved heads or shaggy long hair, and they stood proud, men radiating power, strength and a steadfastness. The groups shifted and I noticed the men were mostly on the left and women mostly on the right. The women swayed, began taking dance steps and the men beat harder on the drums, chanting louder and louder. As the pace progress, hands were raised, smiles beamed across the room, women grasped hands or touched each others shoulders with tenderness and grace. The chanting grew louder, the steps moved faster and the energy built up, a palpable buzz swirling with intoxicating exotic incense and devoted rapture. I felt a stirring and then a wave of emotion, the energy of the room washed over me and I believe I flushed, I felt encompassed and swept up by the devotion and what they call cosmic energy in the room. They chanting and drum beats were so fast they overlapped each other, faster faster faster.My sons held their hands over their ears and needed to leave. I stayed and swayed, smiling with the women, admiring the all-out fever and jumping in the mens side. My heart swelled with admiration that human beings spend time to unabashedly, freely and completely devote themselves to something larger, something unseen, something completely of faith. People want to feel love and devotion. These devotees do.

They will all go to Heaven I believe, and most importantly, through their devotion I believe they are creating Heaven here on earth now. I believe my family will too, no matter our faith, because it's what we believe. Just as Osama, despite his unimaginable acts of violence, because HE believes he was a devoted servant of his God, is in his souls expression of rapture. I want to believe he is in Hell for what he did, but that's where the darkness sets in. I choose the light. He believed what he believed and he has what he believed.
As we continue to explore spirtuality, religion and faith, we are creating our own Heaven on earth. It is Heaven on earth to me to Learn together, to go on Adventures and be fascinated by other human beings, to be enveloped in Love and another's welcoming hands. Heaven.
Thank you to our hosts.
Someday, perhaps, we will choose a "home" for our expression of spiritual connection and host others the way we have been received. We continue the exploration.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Death and Love

" The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?" - Kahlil Gibran

My Aunt Jade is dying. She is in hospice and is not completely aware anymore. She is happy and comfortable though, and at peace with the time being near.
My mother's older sister is a sassy San Fransican activist, one of the people who barrages the government with letters, emails and phone calls to save the whales, the water quality, the turtles in mexico. She is one of the reasons we have the society we do. She is creative, compassionate, fiery and tenacious.
She has straight, pure white hair, cut into a perfect bob that falls to her chin. She wears bright ethnic clothing, celebrating Mexico, Guatemala, Peru, Tibet and the Ecuador. She is a independent Chinese woman who speaks excellent Spanish, lives part time in Mexico, teaches high schoolers in San Francisco and enjoys a walk with her dog Radar in the park, chatting casually with her neighbors, more than anything.

I love her because she is vibrant, opinionated and active. She makes a difference in the world around her, and whether you agree with her, or see her verocity for change as passionate or angry, all agree that she knows she matters. She knows each one of us matters. She stood for each of us when we were too busy to email the government. And she emailed us again because she knows we matter and we can make a difference.
I love that about her. She empowers me to be active. She inspires me to care.

As we sat in the sunny dog park by her burgundy, forest green and gold Victorian home in San Francisco on a recent visit, a floral scarf wrapped around her head, wisps of white hair blowing in the breeze, I held her hand and summoned my then 7 year old over to us. I looked at my Aunt Jade and asked her, "If you could have one wish for our future generations, what would it be?"
She squinted at me through the sun, surprised, a little bit, inside her brown eyes, and said " Oh that's a big question...."
She looked down, for a moment, thoughtfully, then up, sure, and said to Ben and I, "To take care of the earth."
Ben looked at her solemnly and said. "I can do that."
I sighed, squeezed her hand and was complete with the relationship we have had. In my heart, my love for her was so full, it overflowed into the next generation.

The sorrow I feel for her near passing is not a misery of which I feel victim of. It is a deep understanding that I only feel this sorrow because I have had the honor to know her, to be influenced by her, to be related to her and to be inspired by her. All a blessing. All a gift.
I thank my Paw Paw (Chinese for Grandmother) for birthing and raising such a dynamic person. I thank her daughter Andra for caring for her mother generously, all the while creating a creative and vibrant life of her own passions. I thank my mother for having had a relationship with her sister that was joyful and open and allowed me to get to know my Aunt Jade. I celebrate her life and know that death is but a phase in life.

"Knowing that I am of the same nature as all other natural things, I know that there is really no seperate self, no seperate personality, no absolute death and no absolute life" - T'ien T'ung-Hsu...from my Zen calendar from my dear, dear sister.

That is a deep concept to grasp, especially in the midst of sorrow.I never understood how people could say that they want to have a party when they die, they want people to be happy. It felt so cold and fake. I get now, there is the opportunity, in her passing to celebrate having been a part of her life. We hurt from death because we love, and if we reside in the love we can be present to the miracles in life. It may continue to hurt, the sorrow is like the burning in the oven, and yet something beautiful can be created from it.
The question to ask ourselves, is from knowning this person, the eclectic, bold and outspoken Aunt Jade, and what she stands for, how will we now live our lives?



With Love to her beautiful and marvelous daughter Andra and compassionate son-in-law Brian,
Zen Honeycutt

It's YOUR Life

As I lay you down for a nap…

You will never remember the first time we met
And I will not remember when we last say goodbye
In between, our memory is fleeting
Deleting, randomly
The moments we hold can be deciphered a million different ways
I choose to hold mine with you as sweetly
Completely, true.
True love, true innocence, true presence.
Blessed.
You will interpret our moments together as you do
You may blame me, shame me, yearn for me
Or disdain me.
I forgive you.
Because you are a perfect being of love and light
Of sweet delight
And whatever you say that moment was for you
Is what it was
Because
You say so.
I love you.
Your mother,
Zen

Yellow Cars and Awesomeness

As I drive down the tree lined, perfectly manicured streets of southern California, occasionally a Jaguar, Smart Car or the odd Hummer will stand out. Sometimes a green VW bug car or even the screaming yellow Mustang down the street will grab my minds eye for a moment. I have an opinion about the loudly colored cars...fun! we should have more color!...and yet that tiny judgmental voice in my head wants to make it mean something about the owner...needs attention...wears overpowering cologne...nouveau riche...something...but in general the cars are just background noise to my day, things that jumble and blend with the rest like the clothes washer noise in the hallway. Eventually no matter what color, I don't notice them.

Then we created a game with my sons. Yellow cars are two points! Suddenly cars became exciting, yellow cars, thrilling. We're pointing, playing and shouting with glee.It's a great way to learn to count by two, add, and take the attention off their brother's elbow which is encroaching on their sacred seat space.

Suddenly yellow cars are everywhere...yellow taxis, buses, yellow Ferraris, VW bugs, vans and construction vehicles. I cannot NOT see yellow cars now. Even when the boys are not in the car my inner voice hollers "Yellow Car! Two points!" My sons are up to forty something points, I would be at 200 probably. My context for yellow cars has shifted and where things were mundane before are suddenly fun. Life can be like that with anything...its all our creation.

It was like that for me yesterday when I created with a dear friend (we consistently create what we are up to for the day, hold each other accountable, acknowledge each other...it's great)..so I create that something AWESOME is going to happen today. Who I am going to take on is being Miraculous peace and JOY!

Suddenly I am looking for awesomeness. I am looking for where I can cause something miraculous to happen. And I don't mean like make a miracle happen because I planned and strategized. I mean, I look for the miracles that are already there and actually take a moment to let them be miraculous, to really Get them...to give something up....like that I have to control everything...and when I give that up and just be with my family...the miracle of love and joy and laughter shows up....nothing I could have planned for. Something miraculous.

Awesomeness and miracles pop up everywhere...not at first but when I share with my sons, "Guys, guess what??? I have this feeling that something AWESOME is going to happen today!" Suddenly they are on the edge of their seats, I am too...and we are looking for awesomeness like the yellow cars.

I get a phone call and a gracious woman from the city refunds my account 100 dollars for a class that she really didn't have to refund me. Awesome! I love this city!

I work on an area of my business which has been unclear to me and I get clarity like an smack in the face. This could not be awesome..this is not the news I wanted....or it could be awesome, if I chose to see that once I am clear about where I am not accomplishing what I want to accomplish, then I can choose to do something new and create.Clarity and CHOICE. That is awesome.

My friend Sandi calls me to meet up and she is radiant, grateful and we have an awesome time chatting, she listens to me and totally empowers me in what I am up to. Her love and attention is miraculous too, because she is going through some circumstances in her life that could curl your hair...and she is being determined and clear about who she is for her family. She is unconditional love, strength and the embodiment of anything is possible. I would say that is pretty darn miraculous.

Lots of awesome things happen. My eldest son performs a dance show for us after dinner. For someone who has been careful about dancing, he is sweet,vulnerable and yet unstoppable. He gestures and moves thoughtfully, expressively and creatively and then he powerfully explains his dance moves, new names like the "Pancake Flip Flop and XRay Jump". Awesome!

Our middle son learns to swim "ON TOP of the water!" and beams with pride like a puppy who has just tackled and won his first round of puppy fights. Thrilling!

Our youngest, 21 mnth old, learns how to string the "Bye bye" with a person's name and sings "Bye Shaun, Bye Shaun" in the car ride home, victorious with his progress. Speech is miraculous!

And before bed my husband fixes the kitchen garbage disposal without being asked. Awesome! Miracle!

I go to bed grateful, fullfilled and present to how miraculous my life is. Like yellow cars are everywhere...a game we made up called life...and I have a million bazillion quadrillion points.

What miracles are there in your life? I would love to know.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

P.S. This blog is dedicated to my friend Anisa who says I say Awesome too much :)I love you, you're Awesome.

Cut it out! Knock it off! Stop it!

" Cut it out! Knock it off! Stop it!"
My husband half chuckles. He "knows" he should be telling him to stop, but he's so cute he laughs. Bodee is near naked, besides his Spiderman underwear at the breakfast table, and he is standing on the chair doing a spontaneous dance.....then he turns and points his butt at us and waggles it with glee.
Todd's command is ineffective and it is not until he almost tips the chair over that Bodee stops himself, sits down and eats his eggs.

What comes to mind is the perfectly behaved Chinese kids I often see at the huge round tables at restaurants, silently and politely having dim sum with their families. Meanwhile, my kids are laughing, tickling each other under the table,and dangling their noodles in front of their faces before slurping them up with relish. The little voice in my head says...I am half Chinese...what happened with my kids?

"That's what's wrong with America," some may say...."Parent's are not disciplining their children. They let them run wild and act all crazy at the dinner tables, let 'em get away with anything and then before you know it they are getting locked up."

Yeah, yeah, judge as you will. Tonight we are laughing at the dinner table. We enjoy our children's songs and creative play with their food as long as they are eating. We all hold hands and look each other in the eyes as one of the boys leads our prayer, and then we say in unison " God is great, God is good, and we Thank you for our food, AMEN-ies!" Sometime the baby claps after we pray.

It's a moment of unity, gratitude and grounding.
I don't care if Bodee is not dressed tonight. I don't care if he is dancing once in a while. The family meals are a time to connect, and let's face it, a 5 year old communication skills consist predominately of imaginative play. They are still working out what a conversation is. Mostly his play with friends comprises sounds of battle ships shooting,light sabers swooshing and high pitched cartoon characters saying " Oh Noooo! he's gonna get me"...and then a deep voice booms "I'll save you!"
So for him to tell a story, do a dance, eat his french fries like airplanes and waggle his butt now and then ...well, it's an example to me of freedom and fun as a family.

The real kicker is in not comparing my kids to other kids. I find that it's automatic...and if I am not careful I can make it mean something..my kid dances half naked at the table at home, and out, their kids are quiet, our kids are hiding under the table cloth, shrieking, and I think one just ate a fried noodle off the floor....I could make that mean that I am a lenient, lazy Mom and they are hoodlums. I could. And I would have some pretty good evidence according to some.

Or I could chose a more empowering context, an empowering perspective, if you will. I could choose to see that we are living life, our kids are free to dance, to waggle, to giggle. They are fully self expressed and create laughter, love and fun.

Manners are good too, and for the really important times and places we empower them with those tools...but getting caught up in what they are doing means something about us as parents...is a no win situation.
They are kids.We are parents. For the most part, if they are having fun, so are we.
And if we are having fun, so can they.


Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com