Favorite Moment

Sometimes I think God is speaking through my eight year old son Ben.

Like when he said " Mom, did you know that the beach is where angels go to have their birthday party?"

or
" Mom did you know that people get recycled when they die and come back as other people but they don't know it?"

or the other day when we asked him what his favorite part of the day was, he said simply..
" Right now is my favorite. Because you know when you pick right now as the favorite and feel happy, more happy things come, then your favorite is right now all over again."

I am not kidding.
He got what the entire movie "The Secret" is about. He got what hundreds of philosophers and spiritual teachers preach and yearn for us to get.
We looked into his eyes with love and awe and agreed that our favorite moment is right now, right here, with him and our whole family.

Life is moment to moment. Some of us have less moments than others. As a dear family member passes, I am reminded to be present, that right here right now, if I muster up or open up, or generate those good feelings, more good happy feeling will come, more good happy things, words, events and relationships will come.
It's only me and my fear of unhappy things that calls more unhappy things to me. I have the power to transform my life by choosing right now.
Even when unhappy things randomly happen, accidents, death, things beyond my control (oh yes, I am constantly giving up that I can't control everything or everyone)
if I chose right now anyway, exactly as it is, and know that this moment is exactly perfect, I can then create a happy good feeling moment and be inspired by the world again.
Thank You Ben.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

A Child's Wish

I am reading my three sons a bedtime story, Pinocchio. At the end of the tale Geppetto declares that his wooden puppet of a son is truthful, brave and unselfish. This was the test that the Blue Fairy gave him to pass and so "Poof!" he is freed from the restrictions of the wood and turned into a real boy.

I am reminded of the huge breakthrough my son Ben has caused for himself lately, seeing his part in the bullying that was happening to him at school, creating a deal and having many days since then of making friends, playing and no bullying.
I kiss Ben on the forehead and thank him for being truthful and brave and unselfish without mentioning why...but he knows. He smiles and nods.
Then he says meaningfully "Thank you for being empowering, Mom."
I am stunned. I didn't know he even new that word. My heart swells with wonder.
"What made you think of that word, empowering, Ben?"
"Oh I just thought of it in my head." he says simply.

I am so touched, so fullfilled.
I reply " That's all I want to be as a Mommy, is empowering for you boys."
He says "I want you to be all that you want to be, and to be free."

I can hardly believe what I am hearing, and yet I fully get that Ben is just such a compassionate, mature and wonderful eight year old. This is just exactly what he would say. This is all he wishes for anyone.
I also get that me being free is of concern to him, and that me being free is freedom for him as well. And in that moment, I am free of all my concerns as a parent.
I kiss him again and say, with a lump in my throat, "I am. I am free. Thank you, Ben. I love you. Good night."
I promptly leave the room and cry tears of wonder, telling my husband what an amazing son we have.

As I write this, my mind goes back to when I saw my parents disempowered or unhappy. They were awesome parents, and like any, they didn't always want to do the job they did, or drive the distance, or file the paperwork...and when they were grouchy or upset or resentful about it...my child like perspective was just "Well then why are you doing it? Just do what makes you happy!".
I wanted my parents to be free too. I still do. As their child, nothing saddens me more than to see my parents unhappy about something. I think it affects our core being, our sense of security and safety. Like Ben, all I want is for them to be free in all areas of their life.
As a parent, I get I cannot really do anything about their choices in their lives (beside suggest, remind, and annoy), and I can see that I can really only be happy and free in my life. Perhaps, rather than figuring out what kind of techniques I need to incorporate to be the best parent for my kids, perhaps just being happy and free with myself is all I need to do.

Be all that I want to be and be free. What a gift to give to yourself and those you love.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

It’s All His Fault: My Son and a Bully

It’s happening again. I see my eight year old son walking toward me on the side walk with heaviness and resignation that, if I were in the privacy of my own room, could have me weep.
I am present, however, and a Mom, and I am very aware of the brief window of time I have to listen to my son talk about his day before playing, homework and brotherly bickering begin to dilute the reality of his occurrence. Later in the day, what happened at school becomes more and more of a fabrication, a story to tell to entertain, dramatize or garnish pity or attention. Nothing wrong with that…I just want to get to the source of his disempowerment sooner rather than later.

So I kiss his cheek with verocity, rub my hand through his shiny, deep walnut colored hair and let him settle into the car. Then I ask him how his day was. He sighs.
“Not that much good, Mom”
“Oh? What happened?”
“Well John choked me again. And did karate moves on me.”
“Oh Wow." My Mother Tiger neck hairs are stirring, and yet I am careful not to get worked up. He’s here, his neck is not marked, I am listening.
“Yeah, and I know what you are going to say, What did you do? Did you tell him to stop??? But I did Mom and he didn’t stop no matter what I said, he grabbed me around the neck and didn’t stop!!!” His frustration is bubbling over now, is face getting the rush of red anger, his lip beginning to quiver.
The sorrow in my heart drops into my stomach like a rusty anchor from an old ship. Clunk.

I have heard about him getting picked on many times before. We have coached him, written emails to the teacher, showed him the block move. For a moment I make up in my head that this is just the way it is going to be, my son is just going to get picked on, and it’s all the darn bullies’ parents and the bullie's fault…and ok maybe my fault too. Then I remember that as a parent it is my job not to control the circumstances or other people, it’s not my job to protect him from being hurt ever, it is to teach him to be powerful in any situation. I remember that things happen to all of us, people behave in ways that we don’t like…we can’t control that. It’s who we are being that makes the difference and empowers us in our life. In order to empower him, it’s not about me telling him what to do, it’s about getting into his world, his occurrence of it all, that will make a difference for him.
So I ask him, “What else do you want to say about it?”
And he settles down, pours it all out, and I listen to the woe and anguish of being Ben in second grade with John bullying him everyday at recess. When he’s ready I ask him questions, here and there, like “ What happened then? Or What did that feel like for you?”
Eventually we got to a place where he was done talking about it, had gotten it all out, and then I asked him” Well is there anything you would like to do about this?” Usually I would have assumed he was going to do something about it and just said “ So what are you going to do about this?” But my instinct told me he may have resisted that assumption. It’s all about choice in life.
He thought about it.
“ Well maybe…remember when Dad showed me the block move? Are there other moves you could teach me?”
We went home, I used my experience as a little sister to teach Ben some moves to get out of a choke hold and being grabbed from behind. It was fun and he was empowered.

The next day he came home even more disempowered. "The moves didn’t work." he said dejectedly. John just knocked him down. He wasn’t fast enough…he couldn’t figure it out. It was written all over his face. He had a bad day and it was all John's fault. What we resist persists, said the coach in my head. Just be with it.

This time I was determined to listen more and just not try to fix it. He talked about it and I didn’t ask him what he wants to do about it. I just got his feelings...it was like I dropped everything and sat down with him in this yucky mud puddle of sad feelings and just sat there with him. We wallowed together. Eventually, he was done with that and we got up and went about our day with no mentioning of fixing anything.

Today, he walked toward me with a perky stride in his step. Before he is even settled into the car he begins to share, “Mom it was a really, really, really good day. I found out that I was saying bad words to John about his karate moves that he doesn’t like so we made a deal. I won’t say those words and he won’t do karate on me.” He is talking so fast that he stumbles over his words, so excited in his triumph that the words really don’t do the joy justice.
His face is bright and shiny, soft and happy, confident and proud.
My heart is free and surprised and delighted.
“ Wow Ben! High five!” We smack hands happily. “What did you do to make that deal?”
“ Oh, I just talked to him.” It was simple.
“ You did! You listened too. You got his point of view.”
“Yeah, he has his point of view, too.”
“You also took responsibility for your actions too, Ben. That’s awesome. That’s where you got your power to have things go the way you want. Are you proud of yourself?”
“Yeah, I am.”

He may not have ever wanted to be friends with John, and he may never be. But there is so much more possible now for his life, the confidence, power and ability to alter his life, now that he has listened and taken responsibility. There is that old saying that when you point a finger at someone else there are actually three fingers pointing back at yourself. Ben got that. And not because I told him what to do, not because he “should” be friends, but because he was vulnerable and shared his life with me and I gave him the space to just share how it really is for him, without planning it, without judging, assessing or fixing and then he took on his life for himself.

I am glad I am writing this down, because something tells me I might need to remember this now and then, especially in the teen age years.
Thank you Ben for being courageous and creating your life responsibly. And for being generous and sharing your life with me. I learn from you and I love you endlessly.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Love and Other Questions

As Valentine's Day nears and annoyance and anxiety in men across the nation rises, whatever our romantic status, we find ourselves thinking about love. What is it and how do we express it? How important is it to express it in a certain way? What, most importantly, are her or his expectations and how am I ever going to meet them?

Today, I greet my 5 1/2 year old son Bodee at Kindergarten pick up with a twinkle in his eye. He holds a brass colored metal box with the words " Nikki" written in a child's handwriting. Too excited for the formalities of hello hugs and kisses he launches immediately into an explanation of this precious box. Nikki gave it to him to hold, and it has a diamond in it, and she's his friend and he gets to have it until ...ummm May, or next Monday...
I am delighted with his energy and I ask if she gave it to him or is he borrowing it. He clarifies that he is borrowing it until Monday, we think, and he shows me the plastic gem stone and note cards in the box like a special treasure. I comment how nice it was of her to lend it to him and he agrees, "Ya", he says, "she's my friend". I ask if he would like to put something in the box when he returns it to her, to give to her, as a Thank you.
"Ya" he says, perking up even more, the gears begin turning, "What could I put in there?" I ask him what he think sand he says "Ummm well, what do girls like Mom?"
It occurs to me that he is perfectly, simply brilliant.
It is in the not knowing that we create anything.
"That's great that you asked Bodee, (I am guilty of generalizing here, feminists, sue me) girls like pink and pretty things usually...you could ask her too... usually they like princesses, flowers, gems and rings and necklaces."
Bodee thinks about the choices carefully. " Let's get her a ring." he chooses.
I have an idea. "Remember that ring that you, or was it Ben...gave me, the pink flower one?"
Bodee says " That was me." reminding me forgivingly.
"That's right! Ok, well, would you like me to give it back to you so you can give it to her?"
He looks at me with serious brown eyes and deep meaning...
"No, that is just for you. You keep it. We can get her one from the machines with those balls in there with 25 cents." He is sure this is what he wants to do
In that moment I get what love is, from my five year old, in a new light.
It is, first of all, excitement, expressing and sharing.
Love is generosity, giving meaningfully, and most importantly, being in the inquiry of what matters to them. The fact that he asked what girls like, that curiosity, will serve him well in the years to come. He could have just decided to put a toy car in the box. But no, he wanted to know what she wants. Beautiful.
If we all just wanted to know what the other wants more...
what a beautiful Valentine's day it would be if we simply asked.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Follow the Leader...or else.

It is a bright white sun light kind of Sunday afternoon. We are at El Moro Canyon on the coast of Laguna Beach for a hike with dear dear family friends. The hillsides are several shades of silky green, with patches of yellow wildflowers. The ocean breeze tousles my children's hair and they jump and skip in anticipation at the base of the gravel path. I am present to just how incredibly amazing the day is, the air, the location and our friends. Where we live is gorgeous.

My son Bodee is also gorgeous. He is days away from five, on the cusp of Big Boy-dom.
I am not sure it means anything, but he is the sign of Aries (fire sign, like me) and the Chinese horoscope Rooster (like my husband) and we sometimes lovingly joke that he is often like a Rooster with his A** on fire.
He is at the head of our pack of six kids and three adults, jogging in place, calling us forth, electric energy exuding from all pores.
We follow. He runs, he explores. He throws rocks at bugs and smashes snake holes. He is a mighty warrior through and through.
Suddenly, our mildly strenuous hike up the gently sloping hill is interrupted by his scream that is in the realm of a mortally wounded wild boar. Bodee comes running back, away from the head of the group screaming, "They are trying to get in front of me! They are cheating! They are making me not the leader!"

His misery is heart wrenching. He sulks, hangs back and pouts angrily. After some time he can't help himself but to try to be the leader again, but this time he is fierce, muttering under his breath, eyes shifting back and forth, watching his peripherals with paranoid anger. He may be the leader, but he is not having fun. He is ferociously on guard, preventing that scenario from happening again. He will NOT be bested!

I have experienced that human beings have a way of being exactly the way Bodee behaved. I know I have. We strive forth, we explore and conquer. And then somebody does something. Somebody alllways does something..that we don't like. Or something goes the way we didn't want it to go. And that's it. Forget it. Pointless, useless, and definitely less fun.

We may pick ourselves up and try again....ask a different girl to dance, work harder, work longer, and yet that past experience hangs onto us like a paranoid monkey on our back with its hands over our eyes. We can't see what's really in front of us ...which is nothing....we can only see the past experience lurking, looming, breathing down our necks threatening the future we think we are creating. THAT's not going to happen to us again! It's why wars are started and borders are created, politicians filibust and siblings and spouses silently hold grudges for years.

On the way down Bodee runs with his brothers and friends until he collapses in his fathers arms, and Todd carries him the rest of the way. He is tired from leading. He rests and restores himself. Children can sleep anywhere.

In the silence of the easy hike downward, just the sound of gravel crunching softly beneath our feet, we are present not just to nature but to human nature. I am present to how perfect he is, exactly the way he is. His striving to be a leader is an expression, as my mother would say, of life itself.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

From Good to GREAT

My husband Todd read the book "From Good to GREAT" and knowing I probably wouldn't get around to reading it soon...gave me his summary by saying, "The main thing this author said was that the companies who are great have DISTINCTIONS"
What that means is that they have authentically LOOKED and DISTINGUISHED what works, what doesn't work, and what's missing the presence of which would make a difference.
They don't keep operating and doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results...they know Why they are doing something, Where something went wrong or What is missing that could be put in, that would alter the future. And When they are going to do that by.
All those things are clear, DISTINCT.

I can see in my life, in areas with my company, family, my kids, that are Good, and I would like them to be GREAT...that in those areas I am simply Not Aware of what is missing that would make a difference. Not that anything is wrong...just missing...
Recently I created with my coach that I would be SILLY all day. For no reason but that it was missing in my life. I will follow up with her the next day how it went...I have a by When. I am confronted by that, but it's my life I am creating!

My days with the kids are beautiful, my time to work is fullfilling, my relationship with my husband is nourishing, and yet silly might be just that little something extra to give my life an omph!
So I declare it to my children while we are driving to school, "Today Mommy is creating having a SILLY day! And I am going to find silly things everywhere! Like that car in front of us! It looks like a big red squashed tomato butt! That's silly!"
My children and I begin to giggle and talk about butts.
We revisit running family jokes " What's butt plus butt? TRASHCAN!"

We are alive with laughter, funny faces and they are finding silly things to point to all around us. I give them silly raspberry kisses at drop off and ask them what kind of days they are creating. They create their own kind of days, FUN, WACKY....and I take delight in their own creations.
I go about my errands with my 16 mnth old toddler and suddenly see where I am NOT being silly...getting groceries, making calls, getting gas...I am just on automatic doing doing doing. It takes every ounce of being present to see that, to break it up by making funny faces through the window at my son. When I do, I wonder what my life would be like if silly was an automatic way of being for me..what would that be like?

I go home, work,email, again in doing mode, and then look again for how I can insert being silly. Like little girl silly..hmmm pigtails! I put pigtails in my hair, give up that I look silly to the other moms, and greet my son Bodee at preschool for pick up with a silly smile and shake my pigtails. He loves my hair in pigtails (which has only been an at-home hairdo once before by his request), he says I look like a bug(with antennas)and laughs and I hug him, picking him up and twirling him in the air ...his head falls back, his curls bounce and his laughter fills me so full I could cry.
This silly day is GREAT.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com