Reflections

I heard Carol Barnier speak on Saturday, and enjoyed very much her perspective on motherhood and children. One of the most insightful things she pointed out was that as parents we have to protect our child's position as the child, even from ourselves at times. We cheat them of their childhood if we hand over the control to them, and make no mistake, they usually know when they have control long before the parent does.

When a child is allowed to control the household by their tantrums or set the mood in the family, we are robbing them of the security that cause children to grow and thrive. It is too much responsibility for a child to be allowed to set the mood, even if he is doing that by causing you, the parent, to become frustrated or angry. He will come to see himself as the cause of the anxiety and stress in the home, and his perception of his own beautiful soul will be soured. At all costs, she reminded us, we need to maintain our composure and live with joy around our children, so that they can be secure, knowing that they are not in charge. How can a child enjoy childhood when he is allowed (expected?) to make the decisions about even the smallest things, when he hasn't the capacity to do so? Let us not set them up for failure and insecurity by failing to simply control their behavior (until they are old enough to exercise control over themselves). Let us not doom them to low self-esteem by failing to control our own emotions, for our faces are the places they run to in order to see a reflection of their own souls. Show them how precious their souls are by letting them only see joy on your face!

The New Year

Ah, that time of year when we look at the new calendar and imagine the fresh start.

Or do we?

More and more I hear of people who don't even try, don't even form a resolution. Sometimes it's because they feel they fail all too quickly in the new year, and they consider resolution-making a farce. Sometimes it's because they (rightly) realize that January not a start at all, but just another month in a never-ending cycle. I, myself, am making resolutions to change all year long; daily, in fact. So what's the big deal about January?

Well, there is no big deal about January, except that it's a time set aside, designated to create goals, set expectations, and form intentions. If not January, then when? When will we make the time to identify our ambitions, visualize our best selves, and take that first step in reaching our great destinations on this, our life journey? So many, many people simply never get around to it at all. Others do, but just not often enough to keep their momentum going. Even for those of us who are checking in with ourselves (or our coaches) often, sometimes yearly isn't even often enough for some goals.

But it is a place to start, isn't it? Think of it this way ... if youchanged even one small thing in your life every year, can you see how different your life could be in 5 years? In ten? It's kind of like saving your pennies in a jar ... at some point they will cash in for a large amount that you didn't even realize you had. If we could just get a half hour more of sleep at night, watch 1/2 hour less of television every day, or do without Starbucks twice a week we could actively invest those new resources (our energy, time, and money) into great things. Maybe your goals are different, but principle is still the same. Contribute to someone else's life a bit every day or week, and see if you haven't done something you're proud of by the end of 2008.

Where to start? Start small, of course. As James Taylor says, "Cut up your crosses into doable doses." Set smaller goals for yourself to accomplish at set times (put it on your calendar right now!). Once you've got a habit established, then you can expand, improve, or simply step back and look at the new habit you've acquired, and give yourself a pat on the back. Just don't be complacent with an okay life, okay existence, and an okay contribution to the world around you. Dare to dream as big as you want, and then go about breaking it down into a plan of action.

Christmas can be about receiving too.

I propose that it can be easier at times to give than receive. Perhaps that is the real reason that the commercialization of Christmas has gotten out of hand. We "learn our lessons" from previous years, and ensure that this year there won't be so much as a cookie crumb that comes our way without something in our hands to give in exchange. Every year, there are more and more gifts to be bought to cover ourselves.

This year, try it out. If there is someone for whom you are not particularly inclined to shop, try just letting it be. Perhaps you'll guess right, and they won't get you anything either. Or perhaps you'll have a chance to practice receiving without giving. It can be hard, but it is a great opportunity to start forming a habit of gratitude, joy, humility. Whether we want to admit it or not, we can all use an extra dose of that ... Just be sure to look the giver in the eyes and express yourself sincerely.

They won't feel left out a bit.

All she wants for Chrismas ...

Just happened!


Noelle's Song

Ordinary Time

A good friend sent this to me and I just have to share it with you. It brought tears to my eyes, and was a good reminder. I hope you'll watch it through to the end, because I didn't really get the FULL message until about 3/4th of the way through it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS_F2_ucYKw

The Invisible Woman

A friend of mine posted this on her blog. I am blown away by the wisdom it imparts.

For those of you who do not know, a Cathedral is a very large, important church. It's not just a church ... it's usually a grand, beautiful structure.

The Invisible Woman

It started to happen gradually. One day I was walking my son Jake to school. I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street when the crossing guard said to him, "Who is that with you, young fella?" "Nobody," he shrugged. Nobody? The crossing guard and I laughed. My son is only 5, but as we crossed the street I thought, "Oh my goodness, nobody?" I would walk into a room and no one would notice. I would say something to my family - like "Turn the TV down, please" - and nothing would happen. Nobody would get up, or even make a move for the remote. I would stand there for a minute, and then I would say again, a little louder, "Would someone turn the TV down?" Nothing. Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party. We'd been there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I noticed he was talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, and when there was a break in the conversation, I whispered, "I'm ready to go when you are." He just kept right on talking. I'm invisible. It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going¸ she's going¸ she's gone! One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the ot hers all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress;it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees." In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become." At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there." As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women

We Have A Winner!

We have a winner in the Parent Life Coaching Contest!

Out of respect for her privacy, or until I have her permission to announce it, I will be keeping her name under wraps. Hopefully, she will be willing to at least tell Vicky and Jen at vickyandjen.com how she liked the experience of Parent Life Coaching. You'll have to keep checking their website to find out! :-)

Thanks to all of you who entered the contest and helped make it so much fun.

If you didn't win, but are still interested in experiencing it for yourself, please remember that I love to give free sample sessions. It's a great way to find out for yourself how coaching can enhance your life. Just send me an email or give me a call, and I'll gladly set up a time with you. No pressure, I promise.