I’m a day late on Children’s Book Week but I hope you will forgive me!

I work in the school library on Fridays, and the best thing about that is that I get to peruse the shelves and get an idea of what is new and popular in the world of children’s literature.  If I knew when I was starting out in my adult life what I know now I would have been a children’s librarian.  Ah, well, there’s still time for that….

Anyway, a few weeks ago there was a new series on the shelf by Rana DiOrio, “What does it mean to be….?” and the one that particularly caught my eye was What Does It Mean To Be Present?  Usually I am underwhelmed by books that try to teach children lofty concepts like presence and environmentalism (a notable exception, The Peace Book by Todd Parr, is one of my favorite children’s books ever written ever).  I find that they are usually very preachy and over-simplify things to the point of missing the real truth of their subject.  I  usually prefer story books that get at these lessons in a more oblique way, like The Forgiveness Garden or Max’s Words.

But this one I love.  The illustrations by Eliza Wheeler are and adorable and pleasingly understated while profoundly enhancing the concepts for young children.    Harry spent a long time studying the page about “focusing on what’s happening now, instead of thinking about what’s next”, noticing how the girl in the picture was half-heartedly working on her school work while gazing longingly at the playground outside.  The book shows instead of tells, presenting examples of presence that are meaningful and doable for children such as listening carefully, tasting your food while you eat slowly, practicing gratitude, and enjoying the feel of your dog’s fur.  The book is intended for children, but I know plenty of adults – myself included! – who would benefit from the lessons it contains.

We purchased the NOOK Kids Read-to-Me version of the book and my kids love listening to the child narrator whose voice makes the concepts all that much more accessible for them.  And if you need one more thing to love about this book, the publisher, Little Pickle Press (founded and run by Rana DiOrio) is a Certified B Corporation with a commitment to social and environmental performance, accountability and transparency.  (If you were looking to buy a dead tree copy of the book you can order directly from the publisher, or my favorite book seller, Better World Books, which is a Certified B Corporation as well.)

Calligraphy by Thich Nhat Hanh

The future of the world…passes through the family.  ~ Pope John Paul II

Actually the full quote is, “The future of the world and the church passes through the family.”  Though I’m not concerned with the future of the church (all due respect to those who are), the recognition that the future is determined by what goes on in our homes is extremely compelling.

Compelling, and a little intimidating.

I chose parenthood and entered into it with the benefit of personal, marital and financial stability.  I actively prepared for it and continue to make it my priority.  Still, I feel unequal to the task of nurturing two future changemakers.  I make mistakes every day.  I lose my temper and raise my voice.  I work more than I should, and spend less time with my kids than they deserve.  I don’t feed them enough fruits and veggies, and sometimes we have pizza three times in a week.

But at least I have a road map when it comes to my own family; I have an idea of what I want to accomplish.  My obligation to my own family is clear to the extent that my goals are clear.  What is significantly less clear to me is my obligation to the community at large.  It is not my responsibility – indeed, not my right – to tell others how to live.   Yet I have a deep conviction that our world would be a much better place if people developed a more peaceful approach to life, and I want to facilitate that shift.

If I want to see non-violence in the world, how can I support other families as well as my own?

I work hard to practice non-violence as I understand it.  I encourage my own children to do the same.  But we are just one small family, and while our family is important I want to do more.

On my home altar, I have the above message from Thich Nhat Hanh: Peace in oneself, peace in the world.  On the one surface it seems obvious, hardly worth stating even, that peace on a large scale begins with individual people making individual choices that support peace.  But this is one of those teachings that has layers of meaning that are peeled away the more you sit with it.  Taken to a deeper level, peace is more than the absence of overt violence, and cultivating a peaceful heart has more subtle and more profound effect than simply refraining from causing obvious injury to another.

Recently I was listening to a lecture by MIchael Nagler on non-violence and mirror neurons.  Neuroscientists have found that we have neurons that behave the same way when we do something as when we watch someone else do it, which helps explain why we feel nervous when someone checks out the strange noise in a horror movie and we cry when we see a Kleenex commercial.

I understand this as an anatomical or physiological underpinning of “vibes”.  When I am around someone who is stressed out, I feel stressed.  Spending time around someone who is angry leaves me feeling a bit angry myself.  But when I am with someone who is peaceful and centered, I take a bit of that with me.  My own state of mind is impacted by the people around me.

But it works the other way, too: we impact the states of mind of others.  In this way, we can promote peace with everyone we meet without saying a word.  If we walk in the world with peace in our hearts and minds, others people’s mirror neurons will reflect that and they will feel a bit more peaceful than they otherwise would have.  The more we elevate the level of peace in ourselves, the more it is elevated in the people around us, and around them, and around the world.

How will you boost the peace factor in the world today?

One of the other students posted a poem by Rumi in the online classroom called “One Tree”, which I really loved.  Here is my favorite line from the poem:

Photo courtesy of flickr user Luigi Torreggiani

After a month of regular meditation practice I still can barely keep my body still, much less my mind.   I do not feel calm or centered; I feel frustrated.  I keep trying different positions, different cushions, but my knees and back ache. I set the timer and give myself a pep talk. “You are resisting.   Give it time.   If it was easy, everyone would achieve supreme enlightenment.”  So far, my time on the cushion has not been spent in deep contemplation, and certainly not in a state of alert relaxation.  It has been spent persuading myself to stay there.

Stillness is not comfortable for me.   Neither is patience.  This is why I’m on this cushion in this cold room in the predawn darkness while my family and my left foot sleep.   My need to control, to painstakingly, meticulously craft every moment for myself and the people around me through a flurry of nonstop action, is no longer working for me if it ever did.  I know it is time to abdicate authority over my life to something greater than myself, I know it in my bones, yet my zone of comfort is well-fortified by ego and maintained by inertia.

I think about my first car, affectionately called The Tank.  It wasn’t in great shape when I bought it, and after seven years of faithful service to me it was clear that it was time for The Tank to retire, but I had worked hard to buy it and I wasn’t ready to give it up.  It had given me many miles, many fun road trips.  It was ugly, embarrassing even, and increasingly unreliable, but it hadn’t always been that way.  Against all reason, I held out hope that one more trip to the mechanic would bring it back to life.

I return to my breath, wiggle my toes and check the clock.   Ten minutes have passed.   It feels like it’s been ten hours.  Armed with a list of things I’d rather do with these rare moments of quiet, I decide to bail.

I am about to rise from the cushion when I’m stopped by a breathtaking scene emerging beyond the window.   The sun peeks over the horizon, illuminating the fog while bold calligrapher’s strokes are etched across the stark white canvas of mist.  I watch the sun inch higher, the moisture burn away, and the black lines become the limbs of familiar trees before my eyes.  I am surprised when the timer rings and my thirty minutes are over.

I want to capture what just unfolded.  I try to photograph the scene through the window, I sit on the wet pavement of my driveway, but it is gone.   That particular instant of fleeting beauty is unique to the particular vantage point of the zafu on my office floor and a particular moment when the weather and the sun’s position in its ascent are just so.

I think maybe I’ll sit again tomorrow.

I sent this to my Sensei, and his response was, “Keep sitting.  Expect nothing.”

courtesy of flickr user kenleyneufeld

I talk about Attachment Parenting a lot. I lead an API support group, and I’ve given talks to numbers of moms’ groups locally and internationally.

I’ve noticed that when I give my talks, someone pretty much always asks some permutation of this question: “I hear what you are saying, I’ve read lots of books, and I love the idea of AP. But still when  my buttons are pushed, I can’t help but react out of habit by [yelling, or guilting, or punishing, or whatever]. It is so frustrating! How do you DO it? Tell me how to BE an Attachment Parent!”

I have come to think of this as the $64,000 Question of Attachment Parenting.

This has been my answer in the past:

1. Really, you never DO it in the sense that you never achieve perfection. Or at least I haven’t. Give yourself some love because the fact that you are working to create a home environment that is in line with your values of mutual respect and love is really awesome.
2. AP is not a set of techniques but a way of living and interacting with other people in general and our children in particular.  (I always feel like a loser when I give this answer.  People want to know what they should do and I’m not telling them!  They came for answers, and I’m giving them nothing!)  Playful parenting and talking so our kids will listen and all the rest are tools we keep in our toolbox and take out when we think they will help us connect with our kids. They are ideas we can use to help us connect from moment to moment.  They are not “Attachment Parenting”.
3. It takes time. For awhile, you will learn about AP and sill continue to react out of habit by yelling or punishing or whatever. Then one day you’ll be in the middle of a habitual reaction, and you’ll stop yourself. Finally one day, your child will do something that would normally set you off and you’ll do something calm and connected and loving and brilliant and the seed of a new habit will be planted and it will feel great.  (And then five minutes later you’ll do something out of habit again and realize how much work you still have in front of you.)

As I’ve gone on my own journey – through life, through marriage, through parenting, and through Attachment Parenting – I’ve come to realize that all this can be summed up in one word:

MINDFULNESS

Attachment Parenting, and non-violent living, is a commitment to be mindful of our own habits and triggers, of our child’s (and spouse’s, and friends’, and the guy standing behind us in line at the grocery store’s) habits and triggers, and of how those two interact.  It is a parenting/life philosophy that demands of us the willingness and the ability to look hard at ourselves so we can create space between stimulus and response in order to come closer to those around us.

In NVC, they call this the difference between reacting and responding.

I don’t know about anyone else, but this does not come naturally to me.  My habit is to react, but I am working very hard to cultivate the ability to respond.  Through hours spent in meditation, and hours spent studying Nonviolent Communication, I have been able to more clearly see my habits of mind, which create my habits of behavior.  Slowly, I have been able to push open a crack of light where I can stop defining myself by my reactions.  Instead of “I am frustrated”, more often I think “Right now I feel frustrated.  This too shall pass”.  It may not seem like a big difference, but I assure you, it’s huge.  Life changing, even.

The next time someone asks me the $64,000 Question of AP, I will have a better, or at least a more efficient, answer.  I will say:

The key to successful Attachment Parenting is introducing some sort of mindfulness practice to your life so that you can begin to recognize your habits and replace them with something new.

Do you have a mindfulness practice?  Has it affected your relationships?  How?

Photo courtesy of flickr user JasonUnbound

Yesterday I met with two moms who are going through the process of becoming Attachment Parenting International leaders and will soon be co-leading the Skylands API New Jersey group with me.  (Hooray!!)  We spent a lovely couple of hours at the county library chatting about all things AP while three of the kids played and the infant slept.

Together we laughed about how we give babies voices, like when he is crying and we try this and that and the other thing and finally get the crying to stop, and we say something like, “Finally! I thought you’d never figure it out!  Just because you’re cold when it’s 75 degrees doesn’t mean I need to be dressed like an Inuit!”  We mused about whether or not there is a word for that.

If anthropomorphism is attributing human characteristics to a non-human animal or entity, what is the term for an adult putting words into a baby’s mouth?

Because I have nothing better to do, or because the nerd in me loves an entomological challenge, I gave this a fair amount of thought.  I think the term would be pedomorphism, or the retention by an adult of juvenile characteristics.  But I’m open to suggestion.

So then I started to think, what would the word be for describing the reverse situation, attributing adult characteristics or motivations to a child?  After all, it happens all the time so we really should have a word for it.  A baby cries and we describe her as being impatient.  A toddler has a tantrum and we describe him as manipulative.  A preschooler wants to wear a bathing suit to school in February and we describe her as stubborn.  The second we sit down to read our child asks for a snack and we describe him as inconsiderate.

Of course, none of these things is true.  They are simply being children, driven by ego.  

But we tell ourselves these stories, and it puts distance between us and our children.  We interpret their age-appropriate behavior through the lens of adult emotions and motivations, and we get angry and frustrated.  That’s not to say that we aren’t responsible to teach them consideration, honesty, patience and flexibility.  Of course we introduce these characteristics in an appropriate way over time so that eventually they grow to be adults who are kind and pleasant to be around.  But words like “manipulative” and “inconsiderate” are loaded, and they make a lot of assumptions.

Children are simply trying to get their needs met.  Nothing more, nothing less.*

I wonder what would happen if, when we see these judgements arise, we do a little rephrasing.  Instead of “She is being manipulative”, we tell ourselves “I feel manipulated.”  What is that about for me?  What is the story?  Maybe I am thinking something like, “She doesn’t trust me to meet her needs, and that’s why she is manipulating me instead of being honest.  I’m a bad mother.”  Or maybe it’s something like, “She does not care about me at all.  I do so much for her, and all she cares about is what she wants.”  I could be, “Everything has to be a struggle with her all the time.  Why can’t she just take no for an answer?”

Try it, and let me know how it goes.

*Of course, this is true of everyone!  But ideally with age comes maturity and consideration….

On a recent trip to the library one of the books on display was The Forgiveness Garden by Lauren Thompson, illustrated by Christy Hale.  I don’t know how the librarians choose which books to put on display, as they rarely seem related to the season or even to each other.  In the adult stacks, I tend to look at all the titles on the shelves, but in the children’s section I almost always choose from the books on display.  I don’t know if the volume of picture books is too overwhelming or if the spines are too small to read, but unless I am doing research or looking for something specific I simply don’t bother.

While the cover art wasn’t that enticing for me, I couldn’t pass up a book with that title.  After a quick look, I wasn’t planning to read the book to my kids because it seemed more violent than what I would ordinarily choose for them, especially as a bedtime story.  But I decided to go for it, and I’m glad I did.

The Forgiveness Garden is the story of two feuding families.  During one of their disputes, a boy threw a rock and hit a girl from the other family, and tempers flared.

But when presented with the opportunity for revenge, she chose empathy and forgiveness.  

She encouraged her attacker to join her in planting a garden for both families to enjoy and remind them of their shared humanity.

The book was inspired by two gardens of forgiveness, one in Beirut Lebanon and one at Ground Zero in New York City.  A movement towards planting these gardens has sprung up, and there are now over a dozen such gardens around the world.  The organization spearheading this effort, Forgive to Give, describes its mission:

“to create a world beyond violence, with gardens as venues for conflict transformation and healing in communities around the world as well as vehicles through which [they] raise awareness about the power of forgiveness.”

I am intrigued by the idea of creating a Virtual Garden of Forgiveness.  It would be amazing to have an accessible and safe online space where people could explore their wounding and work through their struggles.  Another project for another day…..

Any web developers out there interested in working on something like this?

Enjoy!

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Elvert Barnes

In the wake of the Sandy Hook shootings nearly two months ago, we are still in shock and looking for answers.  Who is at fault?  Parents?  The mental health system?  Weak gun control laws?  What can we do to prevent something like this from happening again?

Naturally, the issues of gun control and gun violence is front and center in the conversation.  The organization One Million Moms for Gun Control has gained huge popularity, and based on the numbers turning out at rallies and marches across the country, their message has struck a chord.  I’ve been watching the news of their influence and growth with great interest.  What can I say?

I’m a sucker for stories about moms on a mission making waves.

I can’t say that I am in favor of gun ownership.  I can’t fathom any legitimate reasons for a civilian to possess an assault rifle.  I would not knowingly allow my children to play in a home where there are guns.  I just don’t get the fun in shooting another living thing.  I don’t like it when Harry pretends to use a gun (though the fact that he continues to do so despite the decidedly anti-firearm culture in our home is a topic for another post, or maybe a book….)

I understand the immense appeal of the idea that passing laws regulating gun ownership would make our children safer.

 I wish it were so easy, except guns aren’t the problem and stricter gun control laws aren’t the solution.  As they say, guns don’t kill people, people kill people.  Admittedly, a gun makes the difference between killing one or two people and killing 28, but people have been committing murder since time immemorial with fists, rocks, knives, fire, water, and all sorts of other implements.

Improving the mental health system in our country gets much closer to the heart of the issue.    Certainly, efforts to keep guns away from clearly unstable people couldn’t hurt.  However, the vast majority of gun crimes are not committed by people who would be identified as mentally ill, never mind the hundreds of accidental gun deaths that occur in the US each year.

Where does that leave us?  Do we just sit back and wait for another Sandy Hook, Jonesboro, Virginia Tech or Columbine?

Obviously not.  But the question begs to be asked:

What is up with Americans and their guns?

Our per capita gun ownership almost double that of the next country.  Americans own almost six times as many guns as Indians (second on the list of total civilian gun ownership), despite the fact that the Indian population is nearly four times that of the US.  A look at the twenty-five nations with the highest gun violence rates shows the United States right up there with South Africa, El Salvador and Albania.

In a 2005 Gallup Poll, 67% of gun owners cited self-defense as their motivation.  Granted, people gave multiple reasons and there was some overlap.  But seriously – 35 million Americans trust their neighbors that little?  Is it just me, or is that outrageous?

Why are we so afraid of each other?

Focusing on gun control is like giving someone with a broken leg an Advil.  It might help a bit, but it doesn’t even begin to address the real problem, and it creates yet another division between right and left, red and blue.  So I propose a new mother’s movement:  ONE MILLION MOMS FOR NON-VIOLENCE.  Instead of lobbying our representatives for new legislation, we go into our homes, our schools, and our communities and treat each other with love and respect.

Instead of fear and fighting, we can choose trust and love.  

We can all commit to finding solutions to our problems that may not be ideal, but that respect everyone’s needs.  This will not be easy.  We do not live in a culture of cooperation.  Maybe it’s the spirit of rugged American individualism, but most of us operate from a worldview of scarcity and competition.  But we need to recognize that this is a choice we make, and we can make another choice.

Who is with me?

Image courtesy of Flickr user christyscherrer

I am an Attachment Parenting International leader.  I’ve read the books.  I’ve studied the research.  I believe wholeheartedly in Bowlby’s theory that a baby human needs to have her primary attachment figure(s) nearby in order to ensure survival, and the extent to which she is able to accomplish this goal defines, to a large degree, her ability to have stable relationships throughout her lifetime.

I just don’t like the term “Attachment Parenting”.

Only recently did I figure out why it bugs me so much.  One clue came from a recent article in the Huffington Post, “Why I Am a Detachment Parent”.  While the article is riddled with hyperbole, the description of attachment parenting as “masochism” really struck me.

I have found AP to be the easy way.  Who wants to be tied down to the house during nap time every day when your kid could just sleep in a wrap while you go about your business?  Why deal with a baby screaming for a lost pacifier when you could pop in a boob?  If some parents are over the top, that is less about Attachment Parenting and more about the parent.  AP is about meeting the needs of all family members – including, but not limited to, the children.  Parents’ needs are important too, they are just not more important than the needs of the child.  I am baffled by the proud assertion of parental detachment.

It all became clear to me when I read a quote from the Dalai Lama:

“Attachment is the origin, the root of suffering; hence it is the cause of suffering.”

When most people hear the word “attachment”, they don’t think of Attachment Theory.  Most people  I’ve met, even those who identify themselves as AP,  have no idea what that is.  ”Attachment” connotes codependency, clinging, smothering, and that is a big turnoff for many people.

But there is a third choice in between attachment and detachment, and that is equanimity.

I think it’s obvious that all healthy parent-child relationships involve some degree of attachment.  Otherwise, why bother?  But instead of being attached to a particular outcome for the child or the relationship, we accept what is true now for this child in this place and time.  I want certain things for my children but I work to accept, to the best of my deeply flawed ability, that they are their own people with their own lives to live.  I hope to have close relationships with them as adults, but all I can do for them is offer them my unconditional love and presence and tell them that they are fundamentally valued and cherished, and then let go.

When Bess was a baby, she wanted me and only me all the time.  She would not take a bottle, she would not sleep for more than 90 minutes at a stretch, and she cried frequently at high volume.

Yes, I lost sleep.  Yes, it was outrageously stressful.  But you know what?  It passed.

Now we have a great relationship where she is willing to talk to me, and I am able to help her.  (We shall see what happens during the teen years…)  She trusts that I am there for her even when the timing is inconvenient or she has ugly things to say. Would we have had the same kind of relationship if I were a 7 am to 7 pm parent?  Maybe, but I doubt it.  And Harry, who was parented the same way, is totally different.  It’s just the way they came into this world.

This begs the question: if not “Attachment Parenting”, then what?

Equanimous Parenting is really hard to spell.  Respectful Parenting?  Peaceful Parenting?  They’ve been used.  Mindful Parenting?  I think Humane Parenting comes close.

I’m currently leaning toward “Nonviolent Parenting”.

I like “Nonviolent Parenting” because it goes so much deeper and speaks to a fundamental starting point of a deep and abiding love for all beings without judgement.

Do you have a good alternative to the term “Attachment Parenting”?  Do you think we need one?