The Grass is Greener

The water tastes sweeter here, the rain more gentle and frequent, the dew last longer and the scent of dirt is stronger. The grass is greener with lushness and the air is filled with floral freshness that wakes you up and says "YES!". There is nothing like Connecticut country living.
The hills roll more roundly here and the country roads more curvy. There is an abundance of everything that has you breath deeply more often and sigh...more green, more rain, more song birds and more daffodils that bloom again and again. More acreage, more horses, more stone walls covered in flat minty green lichen. More geese, more morning doves, more wild herbs and more love of good hard work. Maybe it's all the beauty around us or the change of seasons that drive us, whatever it is, New Englander's have more gumption. We are do-it-yourselfer's boot strappin' folk. We don't pay nobody to do something we can do ourselves. The satisfaction is what country living is about.

Doing it all myself has gotten me in a bit of trouble here and there though...a lot of last minute scrambling and projects not quite what I wanted ...and I have been expanding my mindset after living in California for twelve years. I am still a country girl at heart, and I got a dose of fast-walking-New-York-City girl blood in me after ten years of pounding the pavement there, but as a California girl, I learned to slow down, to look people in the eye and say hi and enjoy it. I have learned to connect, create partnership, play nice and work well with others. I have learned that you get more done with a team and yes, honey does work better than vinegar, and no it doesn't always work to get mad when people are late and or do everything myself. California has taught me it's okay to chill and play, to see the abundance and roll in it. To feast my eyes on greenness and not see work, shrubs that need to be trimmed or weeds that need to be whacked, but to see the dew drops and spider webs and marvel at them so long that my knees ache. I am grateful for the shift in my perspective from having lived in New York and California. I see Connecticut as more delightful now, and my gratitude has me be at ease.

Enjoying Connecticut living has me be more quiet now too. There is no air of having to prove something like I take on in California. I can drive for an hour with my Dad and just stare at the trees hugging the roads. I can stain cedar siding with my brother and just enjoy the satisfaction of working together. I can sit by the pond with my Mom and just point to a Great Blue Heron. Everything else is said with a sigh of appreciation. We can just be in Connecticut.

There is something magical in being in nature for the boys too. They hardly fight. They run and play and catch dragon flies and leopard frogs and then fish and throw pine cones at snakes. They interact with nature. They break sticks and dig stuff up. They revel in the stink of Skunk Cabbage and marvel at the glow of a Buttercup flower under their chins. They run with bare feet and fall on gravel and get up with determination. They get dirty and crusty toed. But somehow they seem cleaner than ever. They have to be wrangled into a shower once a week. Their hair is thick and shiny and their skin is rosey and clear. Their shouts of glee when they catch something is worth more than the fee of a summer camp. Their faces of awe when their uncle builds them a tree fort is worth more than their weight in gold. Summer in Connecticut is priceless. I hope you get to experience nature like this often in your life.

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

Miracle-in-Between-Moments

In between those times when something is supposed to happen, I am still living my life. I am still a Mom when I am waiting for the teller to count out a stack of ones for the most-likely-a-waitress in front of me. I am still a Mom when we are driving to the library. I am still a Mom when I forget something in the car and we all have to tromp back through the chilly air, between minivans, all the way through the parking lot and get it.

It's those in-between moments that I realized yesterday, that are still open to the creation of miracles.
Yea, the big moments, baby Christenings and weddings and birthdays are easy to see as miraculous. But if I am in the market for an extraordinary, miraculous life (which I am), causing a miracle while waiting for my soup to cool, now that is the real deal.

It seems like causing miracles might take alot of energy doesn't it? Well first let's define that a miracle is something that you never ever expected would happen, something that never would have happened anyway and something that creates profound something...joy, relatedness, love, wonder...that's MY definition of a miracle. You can make up yours. By the way, in my world, God isn't the only one who causes them, he/she/God gave us free will to cause our lives. That includes miracles too:) And when we are present and just living, causing miracles can be easy and joyful.

Yesterday I created with my accountability buddy (we have calls daily or at least 3X a week) that I was committed to causing Miraculous Relatedness. That includes everyone everywhere and everything. It includes my new and profound commitment to be a YA best selling author in partnership with my husband. That is a future that has me excited, not only about the future, but it has me being excited RIGHT NOW. And being present, living, having fun.

On the way to the library to pick up some YA novels that I have been remiss to read, (cuz ya know I don't "need" too...so arrogant, my ego:) and hook the kids up with some fun books, I turned on the radio and began clapping and dancing to the music. I invited the kids join in and shared with them "If you ever have a choice to sit down or dance, I hope you choose dance,dance, dance!" And they did. They busted the moves the whole way to the library.

Then when I forgot my drivers liscense in the car (to get a library card at this new library, we just moved, that's another blog) and we have to go back through the long lot, I used the normally tedious redo-moment to create miraculous relatedness with my sons. I asked Ben what he was thinking and he said,"Mom I would suggest that this library not have toliets that are so big."
"Oh really? Did you almost fall in?" I said with wide eyes.
"YES! The seat is too big." Major injustice!!
"What would happen if you fell in???" I asked like we were discovering a National Treasure.
"My butt would get wet." he said.
"Yes, but I mean, if you got flushed...what would happen?" he looked at me oddly and then smiled and made a face.
"I would go into the sewer, Yeeech!"
"Ewwww... what would that be like?"
"You would get eaten by a CROCODILE!" shouted Bodee, my slime loving six year old.
"Would you be tasty?" I asked.
Ben shook his head, smiling crookedly at me. "Nooooo..."
"Why NOT? I asked. "I feed you yummy food!" and tickled him.

He threw his head back and laughed a full belly laugh. I grabbed at Bodee and Bronson for good measure, and suddenly we had retrieved the driver's liscense and we on our way back to the library. Full of fun, happy and connected, my sons and I had images and laughing we never would have had if I had just been grumpy because I forgot somthing and "had to" drag them to the car and back. A "waste of time" was transformed into a miraculous moment of imagination and relatedness.

Cooling soup might actually be the inspiration for a children's book set on a planet with soup for seas. The bank might be the time we create the "Allowance Deal" that has the kids lit up about saving.
Miraculously, at the end of the day, we sat around as a family reading and the kids drew these amazing cartoon books. Ben's was an ode to me, a Mom he loves "EVRYWARE", with images of me doing all kinds of things for the family. Bodee's was a book about "Banana Boomerang." Gold mine of imagination, right there. And Bronson drew pictures of Piglet that look like adorable amoeba. The tears of joy and relatedness I feel are miraculous.

I write this to remind myself, to sprinkle into the world, that those in-between moments are just as big as the big moments. It's all what we make them. I am causing a Miraculous life...won't you cause a miracle today? That's a world I want to raise my children in..a future I am excited to live into...aren't you???

With Love and Joy
Zen Honeycutt

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

Catching Air

The intense whiteness of the snow is startling and yet serene at the same time. The crispness of the air fills my chest and I buzz with aliveness.
We are in the mountains, on a snowy Sunday afternoon for a day of free family sledding. My three children are padded with layers of clothing and waddle to the edge of the snowbanks. They eye the steep incline and move forward...my minds eye imagines them lurching forward, toppling over, a ball of limbs rolling down the hill, screeching and flailing...and I sternly redirect them to a path.

We troop through the fresh snow, on an adventure, to the sledding area, which is teeming with families, snow ball fights and large red and blue plastic pieces of broken sleds. Again the alarm goes off in my head.

As my husband guides my two elder sons, 7 and 5, onto the sled, I must consciously tell myself "He's got them. They will be alright."

How often, in business, in life,in parenting, must I give up that "something bad is going to happen"? It seems like constantly.

When I was a child, playing hide and go seek with my brother, he wanted to hide near me and I told him, "No, go away, this is my spot!"
He didn't listen to me. He hid there anyway, climbed on top of the cabinet, broke my mothers bowl I told on him,and he was punished for it. It was not right, it was wrong in my eyes. A big mess all around. And all my fault.

If he had only listened to me none of this would have happened.
From now on, I better know better. And people better listen to me!

My whole life I tell people what to do, thinking I am helping them... my maiden name actually is LaBossiere and people called me "LaBoss". In elementary and high school I was automatically The Boss. And mostly, I was right too. You can imagine how my relationships went...being right all the time!

Today, when I stop and get present,I see that the unknown, no matter what it is, the glare of the bright future, the darkness of the shadows, the unsure opportunity in business, has my automatic way of being...that I have to know better and people must listen to me...or something bad is going to happen....that way of being could run my life.
I could not let them sled, or be a crabby boss about it when they sled. I could not try certain avenues of business, not meet new people, not speak in front of large groups ...unless I know for sure how it' s going to go.
Or, I breathe. Revel in my 5 year old catching air off a bump and whooping with delight... and laugh...Trust the world. Trust myself, that no matter what, I will be ok. My family will too. I will be responsible even if things don't turn out.
We will thrive. And create fun.