As a home educating mother of three, whilst there are occasions when we go our separate ways thanks to the generosity of friends, we generally move about en masse. This means that we have ample opportunity each day to rub each other up the wrong way.
We generally bimble along in great spirits, but when we have busy minds, disputes can easily arise. Barbed words – aimed to sting – are apt to fly out of our mouths. Missiles have been known to be thrown. And, as insults are traded back and forth in this conversational dance, it seems that we are the key players in a (not so) well choreographed kitchen sink drama.
In a thought less moment, it occurs to me that we are all just filling in the gaps. Each of us is just making sh*t up and taking it as real, then blaming and shaming, judging and begrudging from that space. Is it any wonder that things don’t work out?
It looks like outside stuff is what’s bothering us, but it doesn’t work that way. When I have less on my mind I can see this as, momentarily, the invisible becomes visible to me. I fall back awake to our true nature and the struggle seems to melt away; the words flow when the illusion is revealed.
When I have less on my mind, I can help the children navigate these choppy waters with grace and ease; they find it easier to access their own natural born wisdom, wonder and wellbeing. Free to dive into their infinite pools of common sense and kindness, the perfect-for-this-moment-fair-to-all solutions just seems to bubble up.
There is no getting to this place – but for our thinking, we are already there. It is simply a case of seeing something anew, in the moment. When I become aware of the gap, when I take care of the gap, when I stop trying to fill, when I revert back to still… the gap is a magical space. Anything can happen here because there is nothing there yet. And for the times when I have filled the gap with my fantasy thinking, then acted thoughtlessly..?
I have learnt that humble pie with sorry sauce goes a long way.
Sometimes our eyes are blinded by the mist which stops us from seeing the horizon
Syd Banks, In Quest of the Pearl (page 55)