The Miracles in the Madness

I have been busier than a fly in a field of cow paddies on a hot day in July lately. Sometimes it feels just that poopy. Taking on the world can result in a whole lot of "No's" that really stink. Being a parent to three boys and planning a national event, Moms Across America March to Label GMOs, as maddening as it can be to do forty things at once, has it perks though. Here's a few of the small miracles in life that I could miss out on if I don't stop to sniff the good stuff.

1. Bronson, at 4, still has that warm puppy hair smell. His cheeks still pooch out and he likes to lick you like a puppy when you are not noticing.

2. Bodee teaching Bronson to subtract. And he wasn't taking away his candy.

3. Asking for help and people from all over the country responding with a yes. The instant bond. Miracle!

4. Ben wanting to be a part of the march "because it makes a difference in the world." He gets that HE does.

5. My friend and partner in planning the march knows exactly when I might blow a gasket and tells me we're doing great!

6. When the full moon is out and the communication swirl is at a all time high, I somehow keep my cool. Miracle!

7. The moment in a disagreement when everyone gets that they still love each other and all there is a silence.

8. Our exchange student from Hong Kong running from car to car at a Honk N Wave giving out flyers to strangers.

9. Having a hug and understanding from my husband who supports my mission with extraordinary patience.

10. Bed time stories that go on and on and snuggles that couldn't get any closer. Surrounded by boy bliss. Sleep.

I am grateful, despite the madness in the world, for the love, opportunities and connections with the beauty in humanity.
Every single moment is a miracle if we just see it.

Zen Honeycutt

How to Have Your Children Listen to You

Listening for "Are your words landing in your children's hearts?"

You can tell when they are right? Your children don't blink. Their breathing is imperceptible. They look straight into your eyes and absorb every word. There is nothing between you and them but connecting energy. The buzz in the room is palpable and you are present to only what you are creating...not yourself, not their wants, just the energy of great love.
Then maybe your child might start blinking a lot because they might cry. Or they may burst out with spontaneous hugs and kisses. They are so moved by your attention, your love and your caring, so moved by YOU being moved by your own experience of whatever you are sharing with your child, a learning lesson from the day or story from your past, that the two of you feel like one. You can tell. You didn't plan it. You were just present to love.

You cannot always tell when your words are NOT landing in their hearts, though...because some children listen and doodle and ARE moved.. Some are moved but their face wouldn't tell ya if they had won a shopping spree at a toy store. Some children wear the same expression throughout the day because they are determined not to crack...however they are is simply how they are. That's fine. And if you sense your words are not landing in their hearts, they are wandering off or starting to sing their own little song....all there is to do is to let go of any "make wrong" and get present to what is in your heart.
What Matters to YOU?
Share that. Share your own humanity and your children will relate.

Benjamin Zander, famous conductor and Landmark Grad responds to the question he was posed,
How do you know if you are touching the audience?
He said , "I look to see if their eyes are shining! If their eyes are shining I know I am doing my job."

What job could matter more than being a parent whose words land in another human being's heart and leaves them with their eyes shining?
Inspired parenting is an opportunity that we create. The future is ours to create with our children.
Be love and they will listen.

Zen Honeycutt
This distinction comes from a leadership class at www.landmarkeducation.com. The application into parenting is my own.

Something Special

I hope every parent believes there is something special about their kids, something magical, magnetic and marvelous.
I do.

Ben, my nine year old….I dreamed of him inutero as a laughing blue starfish. He was happy and as soon as he could laugh his laugh filled up the room and your heart with joy and healed you of all worry. He loves the ocean and once said “Mommy did you know that the ocean is where angels go for the birthday parties?”

At four months old, just when the erratic sleep patterns and frequent breastfeeding seemed to drive me to the edge of insanity, I had a dream. He lay in his co sleeper, looked up at me and said without moving his lips, “Thank you Mom, I love you.” It was Mother’s Day when I awoke and he had let me sleep for eight hours straight for the first time.

When the new baby sitter didn’t show up, I mumbled about maybe I could call one of the other ones that responded, and he said “Don’t worry Mom, Minnie will come.” I looked at the list. The last person on the list was Minnie. I had never said her name. I called her and she came and she watched my kids, sometimes insisting not to be paid because she loved them so much, for years. We adore her still.

Ben draws with an imagination that delights. He creates intricate, colorful and bold patterns and adventures with meaning and fun story lines. He won the Art Masters show for two years in a row.

One morning I was concentrating very hard about my upcoming day, selling my natural wellness products, and creating in my head that it would be a “thousand dollar day”. Suddenly at that same moment, Ben shouted from another room, “ One thousand dollars!” I thought I was dreaming…” What did you say Ben?” I called out. He repeated it. I asked why he said that and he said “ I don’t know , it just popped into my head!” I sold a thousand dollars worth that day. He is a very intuitive, compassionate, special and artistic boy.

Bodee, my seven year old…I met before I even had children, when I was in Hawaii, I went to sleep one night and my husband and I had asked the universe if we should have children and we would sleep on it. I had a dream. A boy with black curly hair and beautiful brown eyes looked at me. I heard “ Let me be.” I woke and knew I would have children. The boy was Bodee.

Bodee has a memory that astounds me. He is my GPS. Since he was barely three he would point in the right direction to go to a friend’s house or to find our car in the parking lot. I can depend on him.

Anything he tries, roller blading, drumming, skate boarding, chess, piano, Bodee is good at it immediately. He learned the theme song chorus to several movies like Iron Man, Indiana Jones and Star Wars simply from his father showing him for a few minutes. He loves to learn, to win and to be challenged.

He has something special in front of a film camera too. As an actor, he knows how to turn “it” on. His smile lights up the screen and he delivers what the director wants the first or second time. He is a good sport on the set and is up for anything. He is a very smart, silly and special boy.


Bronson, my three year old…to meet him is to love him. And I am not just biased. Women and girls fawn when they see him. They coo and giggle and pick him up and only let go if they have to. They swing and drag him around like rag doll, patting his head and loving him with all their hearts.

He just KNOWS too…he will bring me a flower when I am sad, and a toy to his brother when he is mad. The other day a worker at my brother’s retreat center was furious at a broken tool and yelled with all his might. Bronson brought him a rock without a word. The worker looked at it and threw it with a yell as hard as he could in the nearby pond. They watched the rock splash in silence and then Bronson said “Now do you fweel bedda?”
“Yeah. I do.” The guy replied. They looked at eachother, breathing, settling, knowing…and then looked back at the pond.

Bronson will not very frequently, do something messy like squeeze out the entire tube of toothpaste into the sink. When I discover it, he will look at me doe eyed. When I tell him that he can’t do that, he looks at me and voluntarily says, “I promise to never ever do that again.” And he doesn’t.Ever. He knows and he means what he says.

When he was 18 months he made a cheerio and fruit loop pattern bracelet for me. When his Mommy and Me teacher saw it, she asked me, “Did you help him?” I hadn’t noticed it, “No.”
“Ohhhhh, good luck with him.” She said with her eyebrows raised…it was a cheerio, fruit loop, fruit loop pattern, A, B,B,A,B,B,A,B,B,A and on…intentionally a consistent pattern…who knows what his talents will be?

Bronson can talk and share imaginative stories beyond his years. He loves to share intricate details of his dreams, his musings and of his imaginary day. He is self expressed and free. He is connected to others and delights in people, hugging during his story telling. Bronson is a very special being of self expression and love. All my children are.

My wish is that every parent take a moment to write down what is special about their children. Upload it “in the cloud” online, so it is always there. Start an email account for them and email it to them. Write an old fashioned letter and put in in a box of memories for them. Tell them before they go to bed.Because we never know if we have another day. Each day is a gift with our children. Someday they will be grown and out of the house and we will miss that something special about them that gave sweetness and love, charm and glory, and zip and vigor to our day.

Zen Honeycutt

The Love of a Three Year Old

I wish the world the love of a three year old..
To love like one and to receive love like one.

A three year old loves everything. Even when he is screeching NOOOOOOO he is loving screeching.
Love is self expressed.

A three year old loves with warm, snuggly cuteness that has you hold him even when your back is screaming and sore.
He comes in for hugs often and insistently. There is no other option but to stop what you are doing and hug this human being.
Love is now.

A three year old puts his face in the nook of your neck, sometimes licks you and woofs like a puppy.
He does this because love is play.

A three year old crawls into bed with you and squiggles in between the two warm bodies he loves the most in the world, so he can smell them all night.
Love is safety.

A three year old follows you everywhere, even when you are busy and grumpy. Your grumpiness will not deter him from crawling on your back when you are bent over cleaning up the milk he spilled.
Love is overlooking the little things and being love anyway.

A three year old kisses your nose, then your left cheek and your right, then your chin and your forehead. It must be done in this order and all kisses must be delivered or holy hell breaks loose.
Because there are traditions that strengthen and expand love and we make them up because it's fun.

A three year old will ask for tickles or tempt you by flashing his tummy. Then run and squeal and roll in giggles that sprinkle you with delight over and over and over again.
Love is silly and delightful and we want more, more, more!

A three year old loves his things. He will ferret them away or pack rat them into a bag and carry them around. He will cling to them as he sleeps and cry for them in the car. He loves his little notepads, or erasers or toys from a party goody bag. He cares not of value, but he makes it valuable. And then... the thing is just a thing and he moves on to love something else.
Love relishes, it is not required.

A three year old loves to be powerful. He love to say no and pound the table and demand room on the couch. He shouts when it suits him and skillfully makes puppy dog eyes when asking for a cookie. He knows he has power because we love him, and he uses it.
Love is not shy.

A three year old hugs and kisses and rolls around with, he tickles and allows himself to be carried and swung, anyone who wants to play with him...his brothers and brothers friends and cousins and sisters of cousins, classmates and new friends in the play ground. A three year old loves freely and fleetingly. There is no sadness when the hug ends and the friend runs off to his car, never to be seen again. That was then, now is time to play some more.
Love is everyone. Love is not sad, but a moment to share no matter what, because we can.

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

Alove...I mean, Alive with love

This Valentine's Day has me particularly present to love and life.
This weekend I flew from CA to CT for my brother and fiance's Jack and Jill fundraiser Valentine's party...a chocolate lover's dream, black and red theme, glowingly creative party in the art gallery space ( with their art on the walls) my brother Tao and his fiancee Amy live in with about 80 other artists. My brother is the main facilitator of the gallery shows and has contributed back thousands of man hours to making Hartford an artistic and vibrant place to live. Amy has made people dreams come true through marketing and art and is now creating holistic wellness by being a nutritional coach and facilitator of group wellness retreats. They deserved a helluva party for all they have done and I was honored to celebrate their love and community contributions by throwing them a shindig. Then a few weeks before the actual event they surprised me and the DJ and officiant by telling us it was turning into a surprise wedding! What a hard secret to keep!
The night of the event was magical. Half way through the party, Tao and Amy surprised everyone with a beautiful wedding and moving vows. Afterwards,I danced with their friends, many I had never met, as if we were longtime best friends. People donated creative works of art and donated generously towards Tao and Amy's new life together. We ate chocolate and toasted them with love and well wishes that had people laughing,weeping and aghast with love and surprise.
I realized later, as my brain is wont to do, look back and think I should have said this or that, that I forgot to acknowledge my brother and Amy for all they have done. I forgot to say what they did to deserve all this celebration...however what everyone was present to is just who they ARE...love, creativity, fun, generous, spontaneous, courageous, caring and a contribution to so many. We were celebrating who they are being, not what they have done. I can be with that.

Then, with virtually no sleep, my brain was alive with love and buzzing, I got up before dawn and flew to CA for a wake and funeral for my beloved Nana that night.
I got that Life is short. We make is sweet. Or not. I choose sweet. Tao and Amy chose sweet. Everyone who attended and donated, despite threats of black ice and perhaps financial considerations, they all made it sweet.



My Nana, and my husband's amazing grandmother, a lovely, generous, sassy and kind lady made life sweet through loving her friends and families unconditionally. She never met a stranger. She had neighborhood children live with her when needed. She hosted parties, listened to my husbands endless stories as a child, created weekend adventures. She loved me fully, despite not being Latino or Catholic, she loved me simply because I loved/love her grandson Todd. She was a true lady.

I realized during the ceremony that no one spoke of how she was a secretary for an office, no one spoke of her job, or raising her child, the laundry or dishes etc. No one spoke of what she DID. Everyone was just present to who she was as a human being. Generous, kind, loving, fun....
That's what people are left remembering,that is what is real in life. It's not what we do while we are alive...it's who we are being...alive with love..alove...

Love to you.
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

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

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.

Heart on Fire!

It is my wedding day. The sun is setting and I am resting for a brief moment, watching my friends dancing on the outdoor dance floor in front of the pond. My friend Domique is dancing with a friend of my husbands and she is sexy, enchanting and radiant. Our friend Dan, who is standing beside me, says softly, "Dom knows just the right time to turn her sexiness on and off." In other words, she is fully aware of her femininity and knows how to use it appropriately. I so admire this quality. I want to know how to be like that.

Whoooooooeeeeee!I found out how tonight! have just completed the PAX ( meaning peace) Program "Celebrating Men & Sex". No, this is not a rated R blog. I will share like a lady. I want to clarify right off the bat that I did not take this course because there was anything wrong.I took it to expand what's possible after 11 years of marriage and to learn about men, myself, and to claim my femininity. I am estatic to express the joy, freedom and excitement that I now have around myself, understanding men and their perspective on sex.

It's FASCINATING!!!! The differences in perspective are HUGE! We women make sex mean so much, we make it so complicated, fraught with conditions, strategy, comparisons, resentments, unexpressed desires, past baggage and hurt which we then unconsiously and silently haul into bed with our partners and wonder why we might not get what we need. For men, it's much more simple and fun.
To understand them, we must understand ourselves.I discovered that when we feel sexy, than we are sexy to men and when we express our needs we get what we want. Sounds obvious, but until we actually shift our perspective and experience it, we tend to continue to blame men for everything we are not satisfied with.

We are lovely, charming and enchanting creatures...and in the words of one of the men on the panel, "Magical Mysteries". We have so much feminine power we don't see, use or express in so many ways. My mind is boggled by the different perspectives women and men have....even though so many times my husband tried to tell me, and I didn't listen.
Isn't it so strange how our spouse can say something and yet we just don't get it until someone else, usually a complete stranger, says the very same thing? Is there some kind of invisible spouse filter we put over our ears when we get married?
I am referring here to just one of the many juicy topics we discussed...how much men LOOOOOOOOVE the female body, no matter what it looks like, no mattter what the lumps or bumps, extra curves, freckles, dimples, smells, or colors...they love it. When I got to hear first hand from a complete stranger the love men have for all women it was like something in a deep inner chakra was healed. I wept with joy to know how amazing, appreciative and awesome their love is for us.

They only want to make us happy and we withhold so much when we don't tell them what we want. We deny ourselves so much when we don't ask them what they like, when, where, how, and how often. There is a whole world of communication that could save, expand,and explode the passion in any marriage or relationship if we women just take on the responsibility of being in charge of our innate magical femininity and sexuality.
This course frees a woman from her baggage and opens up a woman to creating the passion and love of her dreams.
I am THRILLED for the future of our marriage!!!
(Which is the foundation of everything, our family, my business, our future.)

I cannot express the magnitude of gratitude I have to the Pax Programs creator, Allison Armstrong and the staff, Paulette and volunteers. Your stand for women and men have peace and love in all aspects of their relationships is phenomenal.
Thank you.

Ladies..sign up for these programs! www.understandmen.com

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Mom on STRIKE

It's after six on a Friday night and Daddy isn't home yet.
Tonight I get why a Mom of three kids several years back put a strike sign out on her front yard and sat out there for days. She made the national news. MOM on STRIKE her sign read. She slept in a tent on the front yard. Seriously.

I wasn't considering a tent tonight though, my plan of escape was to pack a small bag with clothes and bath salts, pass the baby off the moment my husband walked in the door and go buy a bottle of Merlot, some chocolates and bee line it to the nearest decent hotel. That's my fantasy night...wild huh?

Tonight, the chocolate ice cream in the boys bedroom carpet...the uncooked dinner, the boys rough housing, the sticky substance on the floor, the baby screaming because I just put him down for what? 2 seconds? (please God help me find my Beco baby carrier...) the orders not filled...all cry out for me, in some cases literally....for me to grow six limbs and take care of them NOW!

The crazy idea that leaving it all would somehow make it better flirts with me like a cocky fraternity pledge. Not that I would ever, ever, ever....but I get now why the highest number of affairs happen when couples have kids that are 2-5 years old. Again, seriously. It's just escape.
Crazy days like this and no respect for the partner could easily lead to a crumbling foundation...I can see how it happens. I don't like what I see.

So I sigh, allowing myself the indulgence of my identity....swearing in my head, hissing at me to say "Calgon take me away!" and go...and then I say thank you very much, not today....and I pick up the baby, kiss his chocolaty cheek, write a few notes for my husband with clear but respectful directions about dinner (his cell phone died...note to Todd: Please buy a remote/second cell charger), give the boys direction to play outside and I retreat to bed with the baby. Mommy needs a time out...at home.

Several minutes later, baby and I snoozing, I hear my husband come in the door. He is happy to see his sons running at him and then the reality of the mess on the carpet sinks in. Then he is not happy. Chocolate ice cream in the BEDROOM???!!!
I don't get up. It's his turn I reason...
He makes dinner and brings it to me...ohhh so nice...it's good too!...I start to thaw...but he delivers it with a set scowl on his face and I do not engage.
A short time later he comes in, neutral now...we both breathe, and he just asks how I am. He says that whatever is going on for me is OK. And I love him madly. I love that he can be with my ups and downs. I love that he can be my rock when I fall. I love that he can steam clean the carpet after a full day at work and not break something. I sink into his deep brown eyes, thank him, apologize for the retreat...and when he shushes me, I get again that I don't have to apologize. I'm here, he's here, the kids are alive. I don't need to strike. Not tonight anyway.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Please note: this is an old picture of my middle son as a baby...along with the many things on my list to do is to find my camera. This is a fine example of today, however, gets the job done.

Love and Consciousness

This Valentine's Day weekend Zen's Purple Garden had a booth at the Conscious Life Expo in Los Angeles where thousands converged to learn, share, support and celebrate living more holistically, conscious and alternatively. Our natural sleep aids assist people in being able to have a deeper, more restorative sleep without sleeping medication, and we donate to nature and national parks, so we were excited to meet like minded people.
We found all kinds of different kinds of people.
The differences challenged my comfort zone.My little voice in my head had all sorts of skeptical things to say about the "Galactic Society" and UFO conference.
It piped up again when, looking at crystals at a Divine Love booth, two starry eyed people met each other for the first time and hugged each other for what seemed like two minutes.
"Umm that's kinda weird" my inner commentary whispered.
When a man shared about pyramids with a passion that could be heard across the room, and encouraged people to sit under a hanging metal pyramid with a crystal to align their energy..."Doubtful" my inner voice snickered.

When a woman gazed at the Zen's Purple Garden booth and then introduced herself and spontaneously hugged me, my other inner voice finally said, "It's ok, relax, she's just a loving person. Just hug her and get over yourself."
I hugged her, looked into her eyes and saw clarity, freedom and love.

I told my assistant Christine about the people hugging at the Divine Love booth, confessed my inner chatter, and she asked "What would the world be like if everyone hugged for two minutes when they met for the first time?"
I got, with her 24 years young wisdom, that consciousness is simply being present. What shows up then, is often love for all living things, whether you know them or not, whether you believe in what they believe in or not.
I was then able to be with everyone at the expo, no matter what their interest, or expression of conscious living, and enjoy their passions and them for who they are.

However, when Sunday evening, Valentine's Day at the expo rolled around, my back aches, my feet hurt, I miss my husband, I am tired and completely not interested in sharing the history of my company or products for the ten thousandth time. I pick up my cellphone to pass the time and notice a text from my brother. He asked his girlfriend Amy to marry him!
My heart leaps with joy! I LOVE Amy, she is loving, supportive of my brother and just awesome. Energy lifts me off my seat and joy springs from my face and I announce to the neighboring booths with wild abandon, "My brother just got engaged!" They cheer and I ran up stairs like a kid at recess to get reception on the phone and call him.
Love had completely erased my aches and pains.

This morning I am comfortable and cozy, playing in bed with my family, I become present to the fact that everything "out there", all those different lifestyles and ways of being, that we are not, has us be exactly who we are. And I am grateful for all those different ways.
A phone call of congratulations and enjoying my brother Tao's and Amy's love has me snuggle a little closer with my husband, tickle my sons a little sillier and rub noses with my baby a little longer...
fully appreciating the miracle of their soft skin, beating hearts and sparkling laughter...and that, to me, is what being conscious, and living life is all about.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com