Ya Gotta Be Thick Skinned
It is funny how the body can send us messages.
Mine has been rather physical and pesky, but I think I've heard the call.
I think I need, at least in spirit, to become a bit more Thick Skinned.
Oh not in the stubborn kind of way: That I already have covered.
But in the don't-sweat-the-small-stuff kind of way.
* * *
My Cherokee shaman says that I need to not allow others to step on my feet.
That completely fascinates me, this idea that how we are spiritually can manifest on the physical plane.
* * *
So today I'm drinking my nettles tea, trying to get to work while the boys head off to the library in an attempt to get our older son out of the video-game mentality of late summer boredom. He had a friend up yesterday, and my elder actually retreated from playing with him to go read a book.
The neighbor child and I made fairy houses while A. took a mental siesta.
I got kind of grumpy about it at the time because this mental break took the form of an hour of not wanting to Play Anything with our neighbor.
I mean = nothing!
A. just wanted to read or play computer games, leaving his friend to entertain himself.
Looking back, A. and his body were trying to tell me that he needed a little recharging time.
In the end, we held a family-neighborly meeting without judgment to solve the issue.
I said to A. that if he needed some alone time that was all right and that our neighbor could go home and come back another time. The other choice was having the neighbor stay and the two of them finding something to do.
He opted for the latter, and they played together beautifully for hours and hours well into and beyond the dinner hour...
We all had a festive boy-energy dinner with A. and his friend pretending that everything we were eating was body parts, animal and human. The grossest it got was pretending the ketchup was blood.
After a spell, B. and I exchanged a look, and we decided to Change the Subject.
Trying not to get grumpy, we firmly and with jovial nature Changed the Subject until it revolved back around to passing the "blood."
I had the curiosity to ask what kind of blood it was. "Human and pig," A. replied in gross-7-year-old fashion.
"I don't like that idea," I told him, and before I could follow my thought through A. nonchalantly said, "Oh but it was donated blood Mom."
I laughed out loud and am still laughing. Good for A: Finding a way to have his gross-fun-7-year-old game without offending my moral sensibility.
We did end up being successful in Changing the Subject to a talk about planning a party to celebrate fairies. The boys embraced the idea with Great Fervor: We could watch Fairy movies and eat little tiny cakes, they said.
We could play fairy games and make fairy houses.
I was surprised, not thinking that the 7-year-old inventors of blood-and-gore ketchup would be so enamored with the idea of celebrating Little People.
They make me think that everyone Wants to believe in magic: female or male, that there is something life-affirming and comforting about the idea of good magic.
Of course I told the boys that many people do not believe in fairies.
That was OK, they said, because they do.
I do, too, I told them thinking of how important it is to embrace the metaphors that provide us with imagination and life.
My shaman describes her work that way: You can think of it in terms of metaphors and symbols.
Some people do Christianity that way, too: as a series of richly metaphoric stories.
* * *
Which brings me to the final Question of our Family: from skin rash to religion full circle...What religions will my boys embrace? Their father is a Unitarian Universalist, and they do attend church there, but their mother is a Buddhist who is open to the magic of the universe. Where in the world will that lead them? I, for one, am patient about finding out. They are too little and perfect to have to think Such Weighty Thoughts. And yet I'm intrigued, too, about the balance of color and design when they emerge from their Spiritual Chrysali.
* * *
For now I hope you take the Magic of Boys into your days and the hope that more boys can learn to celebrate fairies alongside their love of trucks and tumble and whirling energy...Stay tuned for more information about our late-August fairy gala soiree, sure to be a hit among Little folk of all manner, and sure most likely to include some form of free-boy expression: tiny thimbles of blood anyone?
Mine has been rather physical and pesky, but I think I've heard the call.
I think I need, at least in spirit, to become a bit more Thick Skinned.
Oh not in the stubborn kind of way: That I already have covered.
But in the don't-sweat-the-small-stuff kind of way.
* * *
My Cherokee shaman says that I need to not allow others to step on my feet.
That completely fascinates me, this idea that how we are spiritually can manifest on the physical plane.
* * *
So today I'm drinking my nettles tea, trying to get to work while the boys head off to the library in an attempt to get our older son out of the video-game mentality of late summer boredom. He had a friend up yesterday, and my elder actually retreated from playing with him to go read a book.
The neighbor child and I made fairy houses while A. took a mental siesta.
I got kind of grumpy about it at the time because this mental break took the form of an hour of not wanting to Play Anything with our neighbor.
I mean = nothing!
A. just wanted to read or play computer games, leaving his friend to entertain himself.
Looking back, A. and his body were trying to tell me that he needed a little recharging time.
In the end, we held a family-neighborly meeting without judgment to solve the issue.
I said to A. that if he needed some alone time that was all right and that our neighbor could go home and come back another time. The other choice was having the neighbor stay and the two of them finding something to do.
He opted for the latter, and they played together beautifully for hours and hours well into and beyond the dinner hour...
We all had a festive boy-energy dinner with A. and his friend pretending that everything we were eating was body parts, animal and human. The grossest it got was pretending the ketchup was blood.
After a spell, B. and I exchanged a look, and we decided to Change the Subject.
Trying not to get grumpy, we firmly and with jovial nature Changed the Subject until it revolved back around to passing the "blood."
I had the curiosity to ask what kind of blood it was. "Human and pig," A. replied in gross-7-year-old fashion.
"I don't like that idea," I told him, and before I could follow my thought through A. nonchalantly said, "Oh but it was donated blood Mom."
I laughed out loud and am still laughing. Good for A: Finding a way to have his gross-fun-7-year-old game without offending my moral sensibility.
We did end up being successful in Changing the Subject to a talk about planning a party to celebrate fairies. The boys embraced the idea with Great Fervor: We could watch Fairy movies and eat little tiny cakes, they said.
We could play fairy games and make fairy houses.
I was surprised, not thinking that the 7-year-old inventors of blood-and-gore ketchup would be so enamored with the idea of celebrating Little People.
They make me think that everyone Wants to believe in magic: female or male, that there is something life-affirming and comforting about the idea of good magic.
Of course I told the boys that many people do not believe in fairies.
That was OK, they said, because they do.
I do, too, I told them thinking of how important it is to embrace the metaphors that provide us with imagination and life.
My shaman describes her work that way: You can think of it in terms of metaphors and symbols.
Some people do Christianity that way, too: as a series of richly metaphoric stories.
* * *
Which brings me to the final Question of our Family: from skin rash to religion full circle...What religions will my boys embrace? Their father is a Unitarian Universalist, and they do attend church there, but their mother is a Buddhist who is open to the magic of the universe. Where in the world will that lead them? I, for one, am patient about finding out. They are too little and perfect to have to think Such Weighty Thoughts. And yet I'm intrigued, too, about the balance of color and design when they emerge from their Spiritual Chrysali.
* * *
For now I hope you take the Magic of Boys into your days and the hope that more boys can learn to celebrate fairies alongside their love of trucks and tumble and whirling energy...Stay tuned for more information about our late-August fairy gala soiree, sure to be a hit among Little folk of all manner, and sure most likely to include some form of free-boy expression: tiny thimbles of blood anyone?
posted by The Lunar Baby at 1:06 PM
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