ITSAGIRL! BabyPoints:19662
Posts: 6753
1/29/07 11:19 A
Hi Kendra, It's free! Deb
Madeleine Shanti arrived August 13, 2005.
She was 6 pounds 1 oz and 19 inches! A tiny, perfect little girl! She is my heart!
YAY! I did it! 26.2 miles and I can't wait to do my next marathon! But first I'm working on being able to walk again!
Treat the Earth well. It was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your c
MAMABO-2 BabyPoints:4667
Posts: 1482
1/29/07 10:53 A
WOW!
Thanks Deb!
Did you subscribe to Tricycle, or is this a free feature?
K
Benjamin Miles 8/26/05
Hans David 11/2/07
"Mankind must remember that peace is not God's gift to his creatures, it is our gift to each other."
--Elie Wiesel, "Hope, Despair, Memory"
"We couldn't all be cowboys, so some of us are clowns..." Adam Duritz (Counting Crows)
ITSAGIRL! BabyPoints:19662
Posts: 6753
1/28/07 6:27 A
OK, warning...this is really long but it affected me so much that I am in tears. So if you feel like reading, it's a good story!
Family Dharma: Befriending Yourself December 4, 2006 By Beth Roth
When my son Emilio was in third grade he had some struggles with math. Seated together at our kitchen table one evening that fall, I watched Emilio’s frustration mount as he attempted to solve a math problem. My encouragement didn’t seem to help, and he soon exploded in exasperation. He crumpled his homework paper into a tight ball and threw it across the room. It missed the garbage can, landing on the floor nearby. He snapped his pencil in two and hurled both pieces to the floor. Between sobs he screamed, “I’m so stupid. Math is too hard. I’ll never understand it.”
I sat stunned at his side, feeling the pain of his frustration, and feeling yet more acutely the pain of his self-condemnation. The Buddha described this self-criticism as the “second dart” that exacerbates the pain of the first hurt. I wondered when he had learned to direct aversion towards himself for being imperfect. I certainly recognized this habit, and had worked diligently with vipassana, forgiveness, and metta practices to diminish it in myself. But I had never seen it so clearly in my child.
Over the next few minutes I was silent while Emilio gradually regained his composure. Then I asked him, “Emilio, who is your best friend in school?” “Cory,” he replied. “Ok,” I said, “pretend for a minute that Cory is here in the kitchen with us. Let’s say he’s sitting where you are, and he’s having a hard time with his math homework.” Emilio watched me closely as I continued. “He’s getting very frustrated and upset. He crumples up the paper and throws it across the room at the garbage can. Then he breaks his pencil in two and throws the pieces to the floor. He starts crying and says, ‘I’m so stupid. Math is too hard. I’ll never understand it.’”
Emilio remained very still, listening intently for what might come next. I said, “Imagine you are sitting next to him, like I am sitting next to you. What would you do? How could you help your friend Cory?”
The question was simpler for Emilio than I had imagined, and his answer came quickly. “I would say, ‘Don’t worry Cory. You’re a very smart person. It’s late and you’re tired.” He paused, thought for a moment, and continued. “I think you should stop doing homework now. Take some deep breaths. Get a drink of water. Rest. Try again in the morning. I’m sure it will be easier in the morning.”
I was surprised that this wise and compassionate response was so readily accessible to Emilio. Taking it one step further, I told him, “What great advice! I can see you know how to be a wonderful friend to Cory. How could you be an equally good friend to Emilio?”
Wide-eyed, Emilio began to comprehend my question. We talked for a while about how adults and children often treat themselves harshly just for being imperfect. I told him that the Buddha advised us to befriend ourselves in all circumstances. I shared with Emilio the Buddha’s actual words: “You can travel the whole world over and never find anyone more deserving of your love and attention than you yourself.” I asked Emilio if he might be able to think of a short phrase that he could tell himself at school, at home, at soccer games, anywhere, that would invoke the same spirit of friendship and compassion that was so readily available for his friend Cory. He tried out a few different phrases:
“Everything’s ok, Emilio.”
“You can do it, Emilio.”
“I love you, Emilio.”
I suggested he practice offering these phrases to himself while taking a few slow breaths, to see how they felt, to discover if one seemed more resonant than the others. He repeated the different phrases aloud, then silently. While awkward at first, this exercise seemed to provide some relief.
During subsequent weeks and months, I occasionally asked Emilio about his phrases. He told me that when he remembered to use them, they were helpful.
About a year after this incident, at the age of 9, Emilio was assisting me teach a half-day introductory mindfulness meditation workshop for children and parents at the Unitarian Society in Hamden, Connecticut. The workshop included discussion, partner exercises, and short periods of breathing meditation, walking meditation, and yoga. We practiced eating meditation when we ate our sack lunches together in silence. Unbeknownst to me, Emilio had brought a small container of chocolate chips from home, and as we were finishing our lunch, he silently offered a dessert of one chocolate chip to each person. After lunch, our final activity was an exploration of how one could use mindfulness to practice being kinder to oneself, and how this could benefit oneself, one’s family, and the world. Family Dharma: Befriending Yourself December 4, 2006 By Beth Roth
With Emilio’s permission, I told the whole story of the math homework, including the phrases he had come up with to befriend himself. Parents and children then shared examples of how they too are sometimes harsh and critical towards themselves. With brief guided visualizations, we practiced noting the emotions and sensations that we experience when we are critical towards ourselves. We talked about how being mean to oneself not only feels bad, but also adds more suffering to the world, while being kind to oneself makes you happier and truly increases the sum total of happiness in the world.
I asked everyone to bring to mind one good friend, a person who is loved and cared for, and to raise their hand when they had thought of someone. Once all hands were in the air, I continued, “Now imagine that this good friend has just made a mistake of some kind. What words of kindness or reassurance would you offer your friend?” The participants shared a variety of beautiful phrases, and we contrasted these phrases with the unkind words we sometimes tell ourselves. Next I proposed that children and parents could help each other to change this habit of painful self-criticism. The group divided into parent-child pairs, and each pair sat facing one another. I asked each child to say out loud to her parent the name of a good friend who she would always want to treat kindly, and for each parent to do the same. The room resonated with the names of our dear friends. Emilio and I had paired off. “Cory,” he told me. “Lia,” I replied.
I suggested to the group that starting that very day, whenever parents or kids saw one another treating themselves harshly, they could simply offer up the name of the friend, nothing more. This would serve as a gentle reminder to pause. With one moment of mindfulness, we could begin again, attempting to treat ourselves as we would our dear friend. The kids and parents made a pact: we would try our best to do this for each other.
The very next morning our family was leaving to visit friends. As Emilio and I were walking to our car, the mancala game I was carrying slipped from my hand. The wooden game slid out of its metal case and opened up, scattering the 48 colorful marbles in all directions. I watched the majority of them disappear into a pile of decomposing leaves between the curb and the car. Long-time meditator and vipassana teacher though I am, there was no sacred pause. It was after I heard myself utter a few self-deprecating phrases that I felt my aversion to the situation. I also felt the pain of criticizing myself for not realizing the metal case was really a sleeve, open on one side.
Without missing a beat, Emilio touched my arm lightly, looked into my face and said, “Mom, ‘Lia.’” These two softly spoken words reminded me of my commitment to treat myself as I would my dear friend Lia. It was the perfect wake-up call, the bell of mindfulness, the Buddha appearing in the form of my beloved child. We laughed heartily as we began searching through the damp, smelly leaves. Together we collected most of the mancala marbles, muddy but perfectly intact.
Edited by: ITSAGIRL! at: 1/28/2007 (06:28)
Madeleine Shanti arrived August 13, 2005.
She was 6 pounds 1 oz and 19 inches! A tiny, perfect little girl! She is my heart!
YAY! I did it! 26.2 miles and I can't wait to do my next marathon! But first I'm working on being able to walk again!
Treat the Earth well. It was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your c
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