Do not ever mistrust the super power of early childhood. Bilingual post in response to Otto Scharmer´s last post

You can check Otto Scharmer´s full article here

You can find A little Wild Fox, the Universal Laws of Free Play at Amazon or choose your favorite library here

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Here are some of my takeaways from this valuable read (take them as independent single quotes):

Still, I feel strongly that the most important tectonic shift of our lifetime is yet to come. It will be more fundamental than the earlier shifts, as dramatic and life-changing as they were. It will be a profound shift of paradigm and consciousness in how we relate to each other, to Mother Nature, and to ourselves — and how we transform and rebuild our societal institutions in the face of our social and planetary emergencies.

So, depression and a sense of possibility. These are the two conflicting feelings I have as I tune in to our current moment: the déjà vu of repeated disruptions that amplify the noise of absencing, and simultaneously the acute sense of future possibility that many people feel, yet don’t know what to do with. The first feeling is well known — it’s amplified and retold millions of times every day. The second feeling is part of a more important and largely untold story of our time. It is usually crowded out by the noise of the first one. That second story is the golden thread that I will follow throughout the remainder of this blog. https://link.medium.com/U1yN6Tvjtob

We have to remember that only theories are contradiction-free. Reality is always full of contradictions.

In social science, the rules tend to be more fluid. They are determined by the state of the social field that people operate in — e.g., is it a field of creation or a field of destruction.

Leadership, in this view, is the capacity of a system to move from one type of social field (or social grammar) to another, as required by the situation or challenge at hand.

What was the force motrice? In each of these stories, I believe, we see the same force or mechanism. These changes were driven by a constellation of civic movements — peace movements, liberation movements, abolition movements, civil rights movements, women’s movements, and human development movements — that inspired others to join the cause. All of these movements were started by small groups of committed citizens who in one way or another created a support structure for themselves and others that allowed them to cultivate an intentional social field

 Eventually, these movements helped societies to reimagine and reshape themselves for the better.

 In other words, these movements operated from a felt connection to a different field of real possibility, the field of presencing a future that hasn’t manifested yet

The shift to activism happened when they experienced a personal connection to the cause through family or a close friend. In other words: it happened when they had an experience that touched (and opened) their heart.

NOT SEEING the collective impact that their actions have on the planet (denial); NOT FEELING the impact despite seeing the data clearly in front of them (de-sensing); and NOT ACTING, despite knowing the facts and already feeling the impact (collective apathy).

The feedback of the simulation illuminates the players’ blind spots. Yet their behavior remains largely unchanged until the results become experiential or personal. Crossing the threshold from apathy to action requires letting go of the stakeholders’ ego-system awareness and developing a shared ecosystem awareness of the whole. Once that is in place, it leads to swift, decisive action.

form follows consciousness.” Attention matters

 It’s not “I think, therefore I am.” But rather “I pay attention [this way], therefore it emerges [that way].”

You can turn away from it, or you can turn toward it. That choice, that subtle inner gesture, activates either the field of absencing or the field of presencing. Absencing is a freezing of the mind, heart, and will. Presencing is an opening of the mind, heart, and will, when you are facing disruption 

 What we need to bring about profoundly new civilizational forms is a pull from the future, not a push from the past

Starting small. By “starting small,” I mean starting in small circles and communities, both place-based and digitally linked, that are aligned around a shared awareness of the situation and a common intention for the future — a future that is different from the past.

 Bridging the ecological , social and spiritual. the integration of the ecological, social, and spiritual aspects of transformation is a widely shared intuition, particularly among young people.

Weaving the Movement. So where will the transformative change that this decade and this century is calling for come from? From a movement, that emerges, works, and collaborates “from everywhere” (as the environmentalist and entrepreneur Paul Hawken put it recently).

It will be a movement that is inspired by the intuition that the ecological, social, and spiritual divides are not three problems; they are just three expressions of one and the same problem: the lack of a shared social field and grammar that all of us can access and operate from.

 *Shifting Consciousness* While the second half of the 20th century was shaped by a conflict between two opposing socio-economic systems and their corresponding ideologies — capitalism and socialism — in the 21st century we see a different type of polarity. The fault line no longer runs between two opposing social systems. Today the fault line runs through the consciousness of each one of us. The most important fault line in 21st-century politics is the fault line between self and system.

Activating the Real Superpower. If we have learned anything from our responses to disruptive challenges like the COVID pandemic, the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, and Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, it may be this: the real superpower of our time is not the one that sits in Washington; it’s also not the one that sits in Beijing; and it’s certainly not the one that is sitting in the Kremlin. The real superpower of our time is Collective Action that emerges from Shared Awareness of the whole (CASA). Casa in Latin languages means house or home. We need to cultivate our capacity for CASA-type collective action in order to protect and regenerate our house and home: our land, our community, and our planetary eco-social-cultural ecosystems.

I have not tried to paint an optimistic view here. I don’t think that’s what’s needed today. No one needs an upbeat sugarcoating of something that is moving toward disaster. What’s needed today is a radical realism — one that can embrace the realities of both presencing and absencing. Radical realism aims at connecting to reality at the current and root levels: at the level of what is, and at the level of what wants to emerge. Radical realism says what most people already know: the journey forward is not going to be easy. Many more disruptions coming our way. But what matters most is that the future does not depend on these external disruptions. Instead, it depends on the inner place from that we operate when we respond.

But the main point is to not see the manifestation of absencing (or evil) as an enemy. Instead, we need to understand every act of absencing as creative energy gone wrong — creative energy that failed and that therefore went the other way, onto the path of destruction. All destruction and acts of absencing are manifestations of energy that was unable to realize its creative potential. To engage and transform that energy, we need to first find that place within ourselves.

Where are you an activist in building containers that foster architectures of connection (rather than those of separation); where are you creating and co-holding these learning infrastructures for yourself, for your team, and for the initiatives you participate in?

The future does not just depend on what other people do. The future on this planet depends on each and all of us and our capacity to realign attention and intention on the level of the whole.

[pst! ⏳ sensitive] A little wild fox, the universal laws of free play

Remember 10 years ago when I used to write about my parenting experience and was willing to start facilitating free play groups for early childhood? Well, I’ve done it. 100%. And I’ve been loving it all the way long. It’s been fun, revealing, inspiring and messy. Above all, it’s been healing. And wild.

Slowly I started taking notes and writing down my thoughts on free play here and there in uncountable paper sheets and random notepads spread all over the place. Then 2020 came and the whole flow collected its power, shaping itself into a book: A Little Wild Fox, the Universal Laws of Free Play.

And I’m eager to share with you, my loyal English readers, a special gift to celebrate. I’m offering a massive discount on regular price, only until Sunday 13 at only $0.99

I WANT IT NOW ON KINDLE

Grab your gift right now and let me know responding to this email to access a few extra bonuses including a free play guided visualization to reconnect your own play intelligence into daily life.

What is this book about?

In a sequence of postcards as simple as poetic, A little wild fox explores, almost from the activation of personal memory, why early childhood is a crucial stage that deserves deep attention and care. María Raiti portrays in its pages some of the wonders that happen in a free play encounter, from the moment the space is swept and cleaned before opening the door to time when the families leave and the air remains filled with a deep and vital calm.

Using the metaphor of the different foxes of the world, its lines guide us to that early age in which the human baby, thanks to its playfulness, lays solid foundations for the future unfolding of its potential.

The author collects anecdotes from everyday experience through which she details the multiple biological principles of free play and reveals its universal laws. She shows us how to create ideal habitats in which free play can thrive, how to identify its main predators and how to sustain an ethical perspective to prevent its extinction.

It offers an accessible and enjoyable reading experience for families while providing cutting-edge information for educators, therapists and anyone interested in fostering full human development from the very beginning of life.

OR GRAB IT FROM MY FAV EBOOK PLATFORM

Be my crying man. Why women can change the world by giving the men they love and care for a safe space to cry

My husband and I are going through covid right now which makes us a lot more difficult to hold the normally already challenging equilibrium between caring for and dealing with our three teens. Yesterday evening my husband got really upset and argued with one of them (16).

Later I went to my kid’s room to check out how he was doing. I didn’t want him to end the day feeling miserable and alone.

“I know this all sucks and it must be difficult for you to have both your parents feeling so cranky and being so demanding on you and your brothers. I’m sorry you had an argument with dad.”, I said.

He looked at me, overflowed eyes, and almost desperate said: “Mom that’s right on the spot and thank you for caring but please get out right now, don’t see me cry. Get out! Get out!”

It shocked me. We’ve raised them being so open about emotions, so eager to validate them, so non judgemental about crying and still there he was, my adored young man, feeling endangered and encrypted in his need to shed some very well earned tears.

We are experiencing a very rare collective transformation. Many say we’re giving birth to an integral consciousness. It’s evolutionary, it’s universal and it follows the bonding pattern of love, integrating and transcending parts into a wider whole. To manage this we need a very specific skill set in all our lines of development. Up to here, K. Wilber guided me. From here onwards…

In my understanding women are in a key position right now. Why is it everybody seems to be saying, “the change we need to see in the world is upon women’s shoulders”? Even the Dalai Lama says that the world will be saved by women.

I think this is because we women, at least western women but probably it applies globally too, have been raised in cultures that carefully trained us through family settings and educational systems to be caring, collaborative, forgiving and loving and, at the same time, we were highly discouraged to take roles or attitudes regarding leading positions since early childhood.

While little boys were similarly intensely trained to be individualistic, control masters, competitive, fast and tough (please note I don’t say men are this and women that way or the other. I’m saying we were trained that way conscious or unconsciously, there’s lots of scientific evidence here: girl is praised and rewarded for being caring, boy for outstanding his peers. A strong willed girl is identified as bossy and the boy as holding leadership skills. Such strong stereotypes on both sides).

Now it turns out we’re birthing a new consciousness because survival depends upon it and this integral consciousness requires above all the skill to cope with collective uncertainty. For this we have to connect with each other in unknown ways in order to be able to reach massive creativity and resilience levels capable of turning the increasingly perplexing major challenges into fertile fields for a bright future. This requires cooperation, ambiguity tolerance and team work.

Guess who’s standing better on her two feet to surf the gigantic wave? You’re right. Women.

It’s on our side. Which doesn’t mean that we’re better or anything in the like. It just means we were handed (and neuro-crafted) with the essential tools to adequately respond to the actual state of affairs. We were trained to be vulnerable, we were told we cry, we were shown in how many ways we’re the soft gender. Whether we accredited or fought against the mandate, it was there. That’s why our men count on us now. They need us to open dialogues around “how the hell you stay physiologically regulated when you are crying”. Gosh if there were a University teaching this I could lecture on the subject for hours. I hold a master in crying.

We’ve practiced a lot as girls. Many of us still do. I mean if I don’t cry in a full lunar month I start worrying. That’s how we learned to be able to cry and feel safe at the same time. We know how to stay connected inwards and with our surroundings not only while crying but by it.

Boys were not given the chance. They had to push their precious natural gift of vulnerability deep deep down out of their own reach. Now is the time for men to take their deepest breath, dive till the ground bottom and recover their tears trapped in a seashell. They’ll discover they’ve turned into pearls. And we women will know it because we’ll be there as their midwives. It’s on our shoulders but not in the heavy sense of bearing the weight. It’s offering ourselves just to listen and connect instead of fixing, a paused hand to caress his heavy head, a calm chest for his unsettled heart.

Come men of our world, come no matter your age, let’s cry together.
And then laugh together.
And then be silent all on our own.
And don’t worry.
Claim your tearful heritage of vulnerability. ‘Cause you still will be allowed to enjoy the competition, but knowing your belonging and worthiness are not cast by the results. Come, cry, experience the difference between game and free play maybe for the first time. And enjoy both; it’s integrating and transcending, remember.
Above all, come. Let your cascading river be with us. Come and understand. Get it first hand. Your tears are safe on this side of your eyes. Crying does not define who you are. You won’t lose your sense of self ever again.
You belong to us and we need you whole.
You are worth and lovable, no matter what.
You may ask me, “ok, I cry, then what?”
Cause you and I know this is not the end of the line, of course it’s not. But this might be the drop that fills the Holy Grail, the first step guiding you right to the entrance where your Self abides.
For now, I’ll wait and be sad.
‘Cause I couldn’t listen to my child’s cry, I couldn’t hold, my hand fell empty, my shoulder light. My child wouldn’t… But I trust him, he’ll find a path. May my writing be an open portal for my young man to be safe. Be safe my baby and please oh please and please come and cry.

The balad of maternal dependency. Just in case I tell you again how to overcome the 4 most maddening challenges of parenting.

This post was originally published during the national poetry month and I suspect it might have been buried by the avalanche of poems that were published at that time. Since I am quite fond of this post I would not like it to end like that. So just in case you missed it, here it is!

Illustration: Patricia Fitti

“My baby boy won’t eat.

My baby girl doesn’t speak.

My baby boy won’t listen.

My baby girl doesn’t sleep.

And I , oh I , I cook for him so many things.

And I , oh I , I speak to her so many words.

And I , oh I , I explain to him so many times.

And I, alas, I’m lost in an infinite and infernal exhaustion deprived of sleep“.

(sing this playing a little guitar , using a trembling voice, in the sweet and soulful style of Violeta Parra. Repeat as many times as you like or continue reading, there may be alternatives).

I wanted to write this for a long time. As I told you, I do not like confrontation, but today I am not being myself: I got up at 4 am , I showered , I meditated the best I could – I’m not good at it – then I had breakfast , I promoted my free play seminar and reactivated our family business twitter account wondering how is that they suspended me if I opened it yesterday… evidently I can make things wrong from the very beginning.

While all this is going on, my family is still asleep (it’s not even 6 AM).

So I have free time and no one to care for. I do not like that, it makes me nervous.

Since I became a mother most of my attention is directed towards my children. When I got married I focused a lot on my husband. Since I completed college I’ve been attentive to social welfare. And when I was a teenager, ah, I was focused on pairing my thin, rebel and busty friends who excelled me on every aspect getting boyfriends (I never managed)…

Before that, ah… before that I was focused on myself. On my dolls game, on putting up a classroom in my bedroom where I taught naughty and imaginary children, on my rollers and the long balcony of my childhood home hanging above the forest and the lake, on horses, on the morning when I opened the curtains and the whole world was white, white, and only an immense silence covered the ground with snow.

Such an immense silence, so beautiful and deep as meditation. A real one.

When I was a little girl I focused on my selfsame axis. I was myself, ample and self-complacent. Nothing lacked me. Well, I exaggerate. I often lacked a milk tooth and I was so shy that I refused to smile in public because I was acutely aware of its absence (for that reason I lost a casting my mother wanted me to perform, blessed be my destiny). But other than that, I lacked nothing.

The boy, the girl mentioned in the ballad don’t need anything either. They are perfect as they are, a complete, sufficient and full Self.

But we moms have forgotten our own axis, our focus, we depend on whom we can. No one is better than our own child to fulfill our need. And so, depending on them, we teach them to depend.

Oh, is not easy for me to say this…

I breathe …

I infuse myself with courage …

I strive to return to my center, to my true self…

I continue.

Children do not do anything “against us”.

They do not eat because they have a good reason not to. They do not speak (yet), would not listen (never), do not sleep (not even in dreams!), because we have been doing all those things for them. We have not given them enough space, time and respect to learn to do it for themselves.

We control the food we serve on his plate, the amount to be eaten and what will go to his mouths in every bite. Because we do it all for him.

We control the words she says, how many are they, and run to check the correspondence with the number of words she should be saying at by her age (by 18 months they must speak 15 words, really??? ) .

We control his time, we bounce into his motor skills explorations, into his watchful eye , into his hands and games. Without even a warning we interrupt him, lift him without previous notice. We decide how, what, why and when he plays.

Then children have a tantrum… they rebel maybe? And yes, they would not listen. Because they haven’t learned to depend, not yet, not entirely. They still have so much, much focus on their own self. What we tell them not to do, they do it, again and again . And if they observe that this procedure creates in us a show of anger and rebuke, even if they suffer they won’t doubt in pressing one more time the red button of our vulnerability.

“Aha… How interesting was mom’s reaction when I did this … let me see … I’ll do it one more time and will observe if she does it again”. They say all of this in their own language, without using words, driven by the immense desire to understand human bonds through us, their moms. Their deep interest in decoding and comprehending human relationships is their priority and they go for it.

In this state of things the day passes by and we’re all tired. He, she, us. It is 7 PM, we have to complete a lot of household chores and we are all exhausted.

There is nothing worse than trying to fall asleep when we are exhausted. You have to get to sleep before that. Once depleted, a body that had no opportunity to get rest on time pulls out energy from vital reserves and injects a large dose of adrenaline to keep going (do not take it literal, it is a metaphor, although this may be what really happens from a chemical point of view). That’s what happens when we are sleepy at a party: suddenly we reawaken and we feel could go on and on, so we do it. The next day we pay the price for that extra demand on our body, we all know it. Imagine how it goes for you if you do that on a daily basis. Well, maybe you don’t need to imagine anything. Maybe it’s just what you get. But without the party part, only with the get-energy-from-where-there-is-none part, not getting any sleep at all and be already exhausted from dawn.

Feeling frustrated out of so much accumulated fatigue we take everything personal, we lose our temper with our kid and we cry along with him. We don’t know better.

Until one day we realize we cannot put up with it anymore and we get to read articles like this one and others that are surely better. We read and read and wonder when will the author finally offer us the keys to overcome the 4 most maddening challenges of motherhood.

But we do not get the relieving answers we are looking for and even worse: we are made responsible for our fate.

Ok, ok, don’t despair. Just because you read all the way down here I will sing it for you:

There’s no child who does not want to eat, if eating is just eating and only that. If eating is a free act and only as much as he needs to feel satisfied.

If my mom is happy with my satisfaction, oh gee, how nicely do I eat, how good am I at eating being so young!

There’s no child who does not speak enough, if speaking means communication and connection, and only that. If speaking is through the eyes, gestures, cries and smiles and when it is genuine. Then the girl realizes that she is being perfectly understood.

If my mom is happy with my satisfaction, oh gee, how well do I express myself, how good am I at expressing myself being so young!

There’s no child who rebels against limits, if they offer a safe boundary, a form of love that speaks to the heart and only that. Then accepting a limit means feeling a maternal embrace, firm and calm.

If my mom is happy with my satisfaction, oh gee, how nicely do I respond, how good am I at accepting limits being so young!

No little girl wants to sleep. No baby boy wants to go to bed. Because sleep is a change of state, a transition and only that. But that’s just what the boy feels as a challenge, just that puts the girl on an alert.

If my mom accepts my efforts to learn how to navigate the changes, oh gee, and from the first moment in the day I can eat , express and accept by myself being respected, oh gee, I think it’s time for my mom to stop putting me to sleep, oh gee, to stop bouncing me, driving the car, moving the stroller, walking with me in her arms, rocking me in the cradle, putting me to the breast as if it were a sleeping pill, oh gee, it’s time for her to trust that I can also learn to sleep by myself , oh gee , in my own bed, oh gee, in my own bed, oh geeeeeeee!

(sing this using maracas, tambourines and gymnastics ribbons with pure art. If you get Raffi to sing along with you the chorus, even better).

Sometimes it takes us more than a baby to learn this.

But at some point appears a light at the end of the road , we wonder if we are dead but no, we are more alive than ever before. And if you are left wanting more details, oh gee, leave your comment bellow, because right now I have no more time. It’s 6:58 a.m, oh gee, and one after another three little lion cubs appear into the scene, three little cubs oh gee, and they call me, they call me: Mamaaaa!

 

The hidden child. Let’s talk about autism to children. InNaPoWriMo Day 6.

Click here to get the full version of this beautifully illustrated poem for children in PDF for just $2.30. English & Spanish Bilingual e-book. Length 12 pages.

There’s no me. I’m not here. They are wondering…

Where is the boy?,

A thousand times they call a name that’s not mine.

I am hidden.

I am very good at staying still where I am.

There’s no me. I’m not here. They are searching…

Where is the boy?

They caress me a thousand times.

But I’m the furniture,

I’m the chair, the table, the living-room lamp.

© Illustration Patricia Fitti (Argentina)

There’s no me. I’m not here. They are asking…

Where is the boy?

They hug me a thousand times.

But I am a lion, a bird I am.

I run fast, fly high, I’m also very good at that.

© Illustration Patricia Fitti (Argentina)

Now I am cold, I am sleepy.

My mother sings a name, a name she knows is mine.

Where is my mum?

When I leave my stash my mother is waiting for me.

We name each other, we cherish, we hug a thousand times.

My mother is right here, by my side.

© Fernanda Raiti for texts. fernandaraiti @ gmail . com

© Patricia Fitti for illustration. patriciafitti @ fibertel . com . ar

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Get the beautifully  illustrated e-book bilingual version here for just $2.30

I never thought about amararama as a place where to sell anything. I still don’t do so (what I said in Mirror, oh mirror was just a joke).

But this amazing poetry week drove me back to a project that is very dear to my heart: to publish The Orders of Love for Children Collection. Based on Bert Hellinger’s highly inspiring vision, I wrote over 10 stories and poems that will help children to understand their family systems as a the best place where they can experience belonging, give and receive in balance and be recognized for whom they are and for their right to hold a proper place in their families. Some of these writings, as The Hidden Child, The Enormous Child and The Invisible Child offer a renewed and compassionate perspective about the interruption of the natural flow of love in a family system and how it can be restored through a healing vision and healing words.

Artist Patricia Fitti shared part of this dream and she illustrated The Hidden Child for me. Get the full version of this beautifully illustrated poem in PDF format here at Gumroad (a wonderful place where to sell your self published e-books, by the way). It will help you talking about autism to young children in a simple and effective way and you will be supporting independent writers and illustrators. It is an English & Spanish Bilingual Version and it is best viewed setting Adobe Reader‘s Page Display in Two Page View function.

Thank you!!

The balad of maternal dependency. How to overcome the 4 most maddening challenges of parenting. (day 5)

Illustration: Patricia Fitti

“My baby boy won’t eat.

My baby girl doesn’t speak.

My baby boy won’t listen.

My baby girl doesn’t sleep.

And I , oh I , I cook for him so many things.

And I , oh I , I speak to her so many words.

And I , oh I , I explain to him so many times.

And I, alas, I’m lost in an infinite and infernal exhaustion deprived of sleep“.

(sing this playing a little guitar , using a trembling voice, in the sweet and soulful style of Violeta Parra. Repeat as many times as you like or continue reading, there may be alternatives).

I wanted to write this for a long time. As I told you, I do not like confrontation, but today I am not being myself: I got up at 4 am , I showered , I meditated the best I could – I’m not good at it – then I had breakfast , I promoted my free play seminar and reactivated our family business twitter account wondering how is that they suspended me if I opened it yesterday… evidently I can make things wrong from the very beginning.

While all this is going on, my family is still asleep (it’s not even 6 AM).

So I have free time and no one to care for. I do not like that, it makes me nervous.

Since I became a mother most of my attention is directed towards my children. When I got married I focused a lot on my husband. Since I completed college I’ve been attentive to social welfare. And when I was a teenager, ah, I was focused on pairing my thin, rebel and busty friends who excelled me on every aspect getting boyfriends (I never managed)…

Before that, ah… before that I was focused on myself. On my dolls game, on putting up a classroom in my bedroom where I taught naughty and imaginary children, on my rollers and the long balcony of my childhood home hanging above the forest and the lake, on horses, on the morning when I opened the curtains and the whole world was white, white, and only an immense silence covered the ground with snow.

Such an immense silence, so beautiful and deep as meditation. A real one.

When I was a little girl I focused on my selfsame axis. I was myself, ample and self-complacent. Nothing lacked me. Well, I exaggerate. I often lacked a milk tooth and I was so shy that I refused to smile in public because I was acutely aware of its absence (for that reason I lost a casting my mother wanted me to perform, blessed be my destiny). But other than that, I lacked nothing.

The boy, the girl mentioned in the ballad don’t need anything either. They are perfect as they are, a complete, sufficient and full Self.

But we moms have forgotten our own axis, our focus, we depend on whom we can. No one is better than our own child to fulfill our need. And so, depending on them, we teach them to depend.

Oh, is not easy for me to say this…

I breathe …

I infuse myself with courage …

I strive to return to my center, to my true self…

I continue.

Children do not do anything “against us”.

They do not eat because they have a good reason not to. They do not speak (yet), would not listen (never), do not sleep (not even in dreams!), because we have been doing all those things for them. We have not given them enough space, time and respect to learn to do it for themselves.

We control the food we serve on his plate, the amount to be eaten and what will go to his mouths in every bite. Because we do it all for him.

We control the words she says, how many are they, and run to check the correspondence with the number of words she should be saying at by her age (by 18 months they must speak 15 words, really??? ) .

We control his time, we bounce into his motor skills explorations, into his watchful eye , into his hands and games. Without even a warning we interrupt him, lift him without previous notice. We decide how, what, why and when he plays.

Then children have a tantrum… they rebel maybe? And yes, they would not listen. Because they haven’t learned to depend, not yet, not entirely. They still have so much, much focus on their own self. What we tell them not to do, they do it, again and again . And if they observe that this procedure creates in us a show of anger and rebuke, even if they suffer they won’t doubt in pressing one more time the red button of our vulnerability.

“Aha… How interesting was mom’s reaction when I did this … let me see … I’ll do it one more time and will observe if she does it again”. They say all of this in their own language, without using words, driven by the immense desire to understand human bonds through us, their moms. Their deep interest in decoding and comprehending human relationships is their priority and they go for it.

In this state of things the day passes by and we’re all tired. He, she, us. It is 7 PM, we have to complete a lot of household chores and we are all exhausted.

There is nothing worse than trying to fall asleep when we are exhausted. You have to get to sleep before that. Once depleted, a body that had no opportunity to get rest on time pulls out energy from vital reserves and injects a large dose of adrenaline to keep going (do not take it literal, it is a metaphor, although this may be what really happens from a chemical point of view). That’s what happens when we are sleepy at a party: suddenly we reawaken and we feel could go on and on, so we do it. The next day we pay the price for that extra demand on our body, we all know it. Imagine how it goes for you if you do that on a daily basis. Well, maybe you don’t need to imagine anything. Maybe it’s just what you get. But without the party part, only with the get-energy-from-where-there-is-none part, not getting any sleep at all and be already exhausted from dawn.

Feeling frustrated out of so much accumulated fatigue we take everything personal, we lose our temper with our kid and we cry along with him. We don’t know better.

Until one day we realize we cannot put up with it anymore and we get to read articles like this one and others that are surely better. We read and read and wonder when will the author finally offer us the keys to overcome the 4 most maddening challenges of motherhood.

But we do not get the relieving answers we are looking for and even worse: we are made responsible for our fate.

Ok, ok, don’t despair. Just because you read all the way down here I will sing it for you:

There’s no child who does not want to eat, if eating is just eating and only that. If eating is a free act and only as much as he needs to feel satisfied.

If my mom is happy with my satisfaction, oh gee, how nicely do I eat, how good am I at eating being so young!

There’s no child who does not speak enough, if speaking means communication and connection, and only that. If speaking is through the eyes, gestures, cries and smiles and when it is genuine. Then the girl realizes that she is being perfectly understood.

If my mom is happy with my satisfaction, oh gee, how well do I express myself, how good am I at expressing myself being so young!

There’s no child who rebels against limits, if they offer a safe boundary, a form of love that speaks to the heart and only that. Then accepting a limit means feeling a maternal embrace, firm and calm.

If my mom is happy with my satisfaction, oh gee, how nicely do I respond, how good am I at accepting limits being so young!

No little girl wants to sleep. No baby boy wants to go to bed. Because sleep is a change of state, a transition and only that. But that’s just what the boy feels as a challenge, just that puts the girl on an alert.

If my mom accepts my efforts to learn how to navigate the changes, oh gee, and from the first moment in the day I can eat , express and accept by myself being respected, oh gee, I think it’s time for my mom to stop putting me to sleep, oh gee, to stop bouncing me, driving the car, moving the stroller, walking with me in her arms, rocking me in the cradle, putting me to the breast as if it were a sleeping pill, oh gee, it’s time for her to trust that I can also learn to sleep by myself , oh gee , in my own bed, oh gee, in my own bed, oh geeeeeeee!

(sing this using maracas, tambourines and gymnastics ribbons with pure art. If you get Raffi to sing along with you the chorus, even better).

Sometimes it takes us more than a baby to learn this.

But at some point appears a light at the end of the road , we wonder if we are dead but no, we are more alive than ever before. And if you are left wanting more details, oh gee, leave your comment bellow, because right now I have no more time. It’s 6:58 a.m, oh gee, and one after another three little lion cubs appear into the scene, three little cubs oh gee, and they call me, they call me: Mamaaaa!

 

There’s Kids Art for Dinner. A sucessful nutrition service-learning project.

When you caress your baby you are giving him love. You are teaching him to love and in this way you are also nourishing him.

Today I read this post about Food Fights at Not Just Cute.

Then I remembered a project I wanted to share here and this might be the right time for it:

When our older child was in Grade 2 they did a nutrition project at school.

Teachers invited nutrition professionals for an interview, children cooked, they analysed industrial food ingredients and advertisements, they watched videos and played games.

Not only regarding taste, but also the other senses that can be nourished: sight, smell, touch, ear…

Kids did all this with a tremendous interest because it was a service learning project and they were really involved.
The final goal was to create banners for CONIN, an Argentinean NGO working against malnutrition in community canteens where food was served for free to children of their same age.

They thought of a slogan synthesising their nutritional recommendations, they compiled all what they had learned and created two different banners to decorate the community canteens:

• abstract compositions using kitchen tools,
• a painted white plate using the yin-yang symbol as background.

Each child painted one plate and in pairs they did the abstract composition.

One of the slogans they came up with was: “let’s become artists, let’s serve at least three colors in our plates”.

Now our child is almost 12 years old, so 5 years have passed by. Still today, when we are serving dinner, he (or his brothers who learned this from him) says: let´s count how many colors do we have here.

This is a very simple way to include a well-balanced meal with protein (dark brown, dark red, white, yellow), vegetables (orange, pink, red, green) and cereals in a same food (soft brown and white)!

Here are some of the art works and slogans children age 7 came up with. I particularly like the last one where the lady is breast-feeding her baby. Which one do you like most?

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A simple question. No answer found.

I felt like crying many times lately for I can’t find an answer to a question that really disturbs me. So this is somewhat a catharsis. Hope you understand.

I offer playgroups for early childhood in Castelar, Argentina.

More and more parents ask me:

“Why nobody else works the way you do?”

Do you know what I do? I follow Magda Gerber´s teachings.

I wait, wait and wait.

I trust every child.

I don´t interrupt a playing child.

I let them cry out their feelings in a safe environment.

I broadcast their social efforts to interact with each other.

I nurture children´s trust setting limits. Lots of firm, calm limits. As many as I can and as soon as possible without feeling emotionally involved.

Then I say “I wont let you hit, you can trust me”. I trust the child and the child trusts me. Eventually they hit. Most of the time they wont.They are so happy.

Parents are there and listen.

So they ask me:

“Why nobody else works like you do? What you do is healing and rewarding and it is so different from what we see at educational facilities. It really helps us and helps our children”.

I am pretty sure I am not an educational savior.

I am no genius.

I am no hero but zero: the less I do, the better it goes.

I am sure there are many people working the way I do.

But I guess is not enough.

So little children come to my playgroup after being expelled from kindergarten at the age of 4  for the mere reason of not being conformists. For not complying with an educational system that does not respond to their real developmental needs.

Little children have been told they are inadequate for being different. So they have to go to the psychologist. The psychologist sends them to my playgroup.

And do you know what happens?

They get better. Much, much better. Because they are accepted as they are. Because they are not told their own and unique way of being is inadequate.

Of course I have studied. Of course I am a professional.

But I am not special, I have no magic.

So my heart burns and my voice cries out a question I can find no answer yet:

– Why? Why aren´t there more people working the way I do?

You don´t need much. Just a heart in your chest and a renewed vision in your mind.

Mess or Marvel? Depends on your perspective.

This is my early childhood educational center after the last playgroup meeting yesterday.

Done by kids age 3 to 6.

In Cooperation. Concentration. Contemplation.

Absolute beauty.

Believe me. I really appreciate it. With all my heart.

However, I had the intention to untangle the whole thing to be able to reach the entrance in a straight line, without having to sort “snakes”, “laser rays”, “time machines” and “time tunnels”.

My kids begged me not to.

– Boys, I can barely walk here, I said.

– We know!, middle one agreed in a gleeful mood, his eyes sparkling true enthusiasm. – That´s the best of it!

The hug. A postcard

Klimt

The other day I was listening to a mother of a 2 years old sweet boy who was playing sitting by her side. She was telling me about her pregnancy and her child´s personality. Out of respect I looked at him and said softly:

– Now mom is speaking of you. I know you´re listening. You´re free to express whatever you need.

This little boy doesn´t say a word yet (at least not in Spanish, very surprisingly he says “ball”, “jake” and “car” in English!) and the mother mentioned that point a few times. In the meanwhile, her child started rolling on the carpet, creating a “wave sensation” wiht his own body rolling away from mom, rolling back to her. The kind of “Fort/Da!” concept was incarnated in his own body. Every movement made sense and responded to what his mother was saying. Then the mother made an awesome statement:

– There is one thing I knew in this life and that is I wanted to become a mom and have children. That was my deepest desire.

Suddenly the boy stopped rolling back and forth, stood up, run as fast as his little legs allowed him and jumped on his mother lap, hugging her…

Little arms, tiny hands, clear mind, generous love hugging truly, unconditionally, in full surrender.

The mother became still, received her child hugging him back and they became One Soul.

I had the fortune to witness the magic.

Did I mention the child does not speak? I correct myself. He silently speaks in the universal language of the heart.

What do you feel when reading this story? Share your comments!

My rescue quotes. Few words, lighting meanings.

“I believe that babies should not be taught because it usually interferes with learning”.  

Magda Gerber

My rescue quotes are a humble homage to wonderful people (famous or not) who spark their wisdom from a distance. I collect them to find a guiding light when I feel lost in the sea of life. Hope they might help you too. I love your comments, feel free to share your own rescue quotes!

Why every mother should have a camera. Pictures of Joy.

I know mothers day is far away. We´ve just finished the rush preparing a creative present for Dad. But let me tell you every mom should have a camera asap. Don´t wait till mohter´s day to get her one. Take me as an example.

Last year, by the time Amararama was born, my husband bought me a nice Panasonic Lumix FZ35 for my birthday.

The only problem was I didn´t have a clue about point and shoot cameras (and about photography in general) and three little boys tend to keep me far away from manuals… You might know already my safest and only reading opportunity  is the bathroom.

So I applied my own experiential learning philosophy and decided to learn on the go. I simply started pointing and shooting.

– At what?, you want to know.

– Well, at the three little boys, is my answer.

That was a perfect way to learn how to use my camera and to keep an eye on kids at the same time. Gradually, I understood the balance between ISO, aperture and speed and my attention was shifted towards what I saw through my lens… Surprise! I rediscovered my kids personality, their gestures and their constant intentional play. Every pic was a revelation.

After my experience every mom should have a camera because:

• she can have great fun pointing and shooting her kids (instead of pointing and yelling at them).

We were painting pizza trays (remember?) and suddenly the older boy dessapeared. He came back a bit changed… May be on other ocassion I would have scolded him for this (the acrylic painting was not meant for skin). But he looked so great! Ok, it was a little mess and being 8 years old he could have known (should he?)… but it´s art too! Check the costume he searched to match his face!

• she can realize not every feline on the street is a serial killer

Yes, you know I´m an exagerated mom. And a bit fearful sometimes… That´s why I tend to avoid this kind of situation. “Caressing a strange cat” is not under my safety files. But it made a nice photo. The child (AND the cat) survived and they both got the chance to share a natural expression of love.

• she can step back and discover new dimensions of her children´s potential.

Normally I would have run to the crying toddler, depriving the elder brothers of the opportunity to care and comfort someone in distress. Is it children do not know how to help or we do not give them enough time and space to do it their way? I love the last pic. He was crying because his helmet was crashed during the play. After receiving comfort from his sibblings, he simply put it on.
I think he didn´t need to “fix” the helmet. Actually he just needed to get his emotions “fixed”.

• Finally, every mother should have a camera because she can create precious memories of every day life

Can you discover why is he looking so mischevious and happy?

He lost his first tooth!

Oh! How pleased and radiant he was! So many times I´ve seen my children shining, swinging freely in the arms of Joy. And I remember myself thinking: “I´ll keep this picture in my heart all my life” but many of those instants faded away in everyday routine turmoil.

If you know me a bit, you´ll know I´m not precisely a consumerist mom but let me assure you my camera has made a big difference in the way I see (and remember) our family life.