Stories

 "The soul is the lighthouse from which we see the vast celestial ocean, a kiosk from which we observe whatever passes by, the purest expression of our being alive, the one part they couldn't wreck, in the paranoid sense of the word "they." ...........If you don't have much soul left and you know it, you've still got soul." Anne Lamott

Over the last few months, I've noticed a shift in Peanut's attitude toward school.

"I wish every day was Saturday."

"Do we HAVE to do school today?"

As the woman who has "Ignite a Fire" written on her chalkboard, I was beginning to feel both personally attacked and sad.

I was hearing Peanut say the words that she didn't like doing school, didn't want to do school, wanted every day to be a weekend.

My initial reaction was to have Peanut experience a traditional school day schedule . With a lot more structure and seat time than she's used to. My initial reaction was she needed perspective to appreciate her day.

But I wasn't hearing Peanut's HEART.

I took a few steps back a few weeks ago and began to think through what I know as truth.

Peanut loves to learn. She loves to read, be read to, and to listen to audio books. She loves to discover new things. Science is her favorite subject - next to art. Peanut has deep thoughts about all the things. She loves to go new places, meet new people.

From my point of view, our school day is very fluid and makes space for all her creativity.

We work a little, she adventures a little, we sprinkle in some math practice, she plays outside, we read books, we write responses, we draw, we work on structured academics.

For her point of view, the pieces that aren't her favorite - the more structured things, don't have a beginning and an end.

What I saw as an asset - the flexibility, fluidness of our day, she began to see as a negative.

When I began to process what I was HEARING with truth, I could then have a conversation with Peanut about renewing our ignite a fire goal for the year.

We decided that she wanted a set time and structure for our more structured academics. A firm beginning and an end.

So when she goes off to explore, adventure, read, draw, play - she knows that we aren't looping back to the structure.

We spent time this week creating a dedicated classroom space. We moved all our school things into that space. We created a visual so Peanut knows what structured things the school day holds.

Outside of that structured time, there's so much learning happening. Reading, listening to audio books, exploring drawing classes, investigating the nature of our backyard, library resources for our theme, logic games, large and fine motor explorations.

But all of that - Peanut doesn't consider "school."

I've been thinking this week about how many of my relationship issues can probably be traced to my HEARING words but not understanding the HEART of the conversation.

On my good days I use my reflective hearing skills with my people.

Brene Brown suggests using the phrase "The story I'm telling myself is...."

With Peanut, I said "The story I'm telling myself is that something changed and you no longer like school. The story I'm telling myself is that Mommy isn't doing a good job inspiring you to enjoy learning."

This provides the space and realization that perhaps the story isn't true. This is what I am HEARING.

And allows the other person to clarify and correct.

The story I'm telling myself often makes things all about ME , when in truth they often have very little to do with me.

Peanut loves me teaching her. She needs some boundaries and hasn't learned how to ask for them.

The problem is that all too often we HEAR the communication and then silence befalls.

We don't give the other person space to correct the story we are telling ourselves because we are hurt, upset, angry, etc.

We don't say to people "This is the story I'm telling myself. "

Mama Warriors, one of the hardest part of this journey for me is that not all of my people are ready to converse in "The story I'm telling myself is....." verbage.

BUT I'm reminded that I can model vulnerability, honesty and accountability.

I can't hold others accountable for clearing up the communication struggle BUT I can hold myself accountable for not leaping to the worst conclusions.

For example, if you are someone who has tried to do something in person with me over the last few years, you may have told yourself the story that I don't like you, I don't value our friendship enough to spend time with you, or I can't prioritize my time.

When in truth, if I were to be confronted with my hesitancy in making plans, I would share that outings make me anxious. I don't eat away from home. I have to think through meals and restrooms before I go anywhere - even with my fabulous meds. If I have to make plans in advance, I have no idea how I will feel that day.

It's really not you - it's really ME.

But if you only HEAR me say "I can't" then it leaves space for you to create a story that doesn't make room for my HEART in my response.

I can't control what others think BUT I can control what I think.

When I think the worst, I can be brave enough to say to you "The story I'm telling myself is.........." and make space to allow truth to come to light.

I can hold myself accountable for my end of the relationship.

Sometimes the answer is as simple as a few notecards that say "reading, math, geography, and science."