profanity

casre. The article here on Relatefulness vs Circling, and numerous instances of listening to people try to nuance intriguing distinctions between various tweaks of intersubjective practice, turns my mind back to the shamanic.  What I mean is that these modalities which emphasize conscious access to self-content which is recognisable and verballly communicable, needs to be supplemented by modalities in which we are nonlinear mysteries to ourselves and each other, reaching for the shares we don't understand, the languaging that doesn't make sense, the gibberish, the coded speech of subconscious and nonhuman wisdom.  This emerges to some degree in all the different styles but from my point of view it needs to be more explicitly highlighted in order to invite the strangeness of deeper levels of the self.

Love and play are our natural states of being. Underneath everything is love.

If I can’t feel the love, I know there’s something I’m not including in my experience.

I must be slightly dissociated if I can’t access some touch of gratitude, love, awe, or flow.

There must be something, maybe some pain or grief or anger, something that’s not always easy to feel, that’s calling my attention but I’m not listening to.

So, I tune into my embodiment practice, my support network or simply sit down and try to cry/scream/shake to access myself again.

And when I return to that free flowing and everlasting source of love, that’s where I parent from.

Full commitment to love, play, and nourishment.

My daughter too needs this. When she’s clingy, not able to do any independent play, when she gets easily frustrated or not making eye contact, when she’s starting to hit or throw things or grab stuff from others, there’s usually something that hasn’t been felt. She also needs her support network. Someone who can listen to her.

The listening usually starts through me setting a limit or her experiencing something small but there’s a very large reaction to it. It’s usually not about that thing, but she needs something to help her cry. So I keep placing my limit if I notice that’s what she needs to cry. Or I keep returning our attention to that ball which didn’t fit in the right place (of course, I expect some frustration to be expressed when something doesn’t fit - so here’s always some discernment happening from my side).

After a large big cry in my arms, she returns to play.

Having seen this so many times, I realize this is our natural state of being, this is the action we choose once we’re in alignment with love.

Play

This is how she learns. This is how she lives. This is her ultimate focus of existence. And when all is settled and good, she plays.

If I can’t make time to play with her, if I can’t access the love for life and follow her invitation to see something anew, then something fundamental is missing from my life. Then I’m too serious, too adult, and have lost touch with my fundamental nature, which also is play.

Diapers can be thrown on the wall or placed on your head. If we can use towels to dry ourselves after a bath, we can also experiment with other clothes. We can wash dishes by splashing water from one bowl to another. We can hit the eggs on the counter five times very hard and they crack that way too!

A parent stuck in their role as an authority might look at me and think I’m ridiculous and teaching my daughter to be disrespectful. But at the end of the day, our family goes to sleep with smiles and laughter after a day full of exploration and discoveries, with hearts so full that tomorrow we will continue to play. In that way, it’s a regenerative practice.

The times when I’m attached to outcomes, overbooked with commitments, or deprioritize self-nourishment, I’m not inclined to play, and it’s a negative feedback loop. My daughter feels disconnected, and everything feels harder.

Housekeeping doesn’t feel hard when your toddler runs with giggles to the trash can to throw something away. It feels hard when your toddler is screaming for your attention because you’re ignoring them, so attached to making it clean so you can be with them without the kitchen screaming at you that it needs to be cleaned (this is especially true for women who have diffuse awareness). When I’m connected to love, I invite her to lead us in how to clean the kitchen. Or I clean the kitchen in the silliest way, placing her in the sink while I’m doing dishes, playing with a lot of soap, or giving her the sponge to be in charge of scrubbing.

And she’s not a bad kid for throwing a diaper on the wall, it’s just an invitation for either of us to return to play and love.

Yes, it might look wild. And it is, most of the time. It’s wildly fun. It’s wildly creative. It’s wildly enlivening. It’s wild love. And it only happens when I’m able to really be there, connected to myself, all the opportunities of life and the everflowing current of love.