Best father’s day gift from mom

What’s the best gift you can give your partner for father’s day?

Notice the Good.

Maybe he drives you crazy by leaving the seat up on the toilet.  Maybe he is slow to talk, can’t name his feelings well, and his love language is definitely not the same as yours.  These are the everyday things our partner does that annoy the crap out of us and we usually point out to our partners.  They happen over and over,and we react again and again – by nagging, distancing ourselves, getting fired up, and even pointing out dad’s faults in front of the kiddos.

WHY DO WE DO POINT OUT THE NEGATIVE?

Basically sisters, we do it when we feel under resourced, tired, stressed, taxed to the max, running from one thing to the next…and (these are the big ones)…when we feel like everything depends on us and when we feel alone.

Taxed to the max, scattered, tired, feeling alone and responsible for everything?  Sounds like a perfect storm to me!  That’s when we are in total fight or flight…and we react.  Blaming, pulling away, lashing, out, giving this annoyed sigh when our partner forgets the 100th item on the beach vacation checklist.

While we are wired to notice the negative (think: ancestors.  survival. notice potential threat because your life depends on it.), we are also PRIMED for connection and belonging.  Human beings have learned over the years as we evolved that COMPASSION and CONNECTION mean survival, too.  And things like GRATITUDE and choosing to connect (to our own emotions and internal experiences as well as to others) help us to get out of fight or flight and make wise decisions.

NEXT TIME HE DOES SOMETHING THAT DRIVES YOU NUTS:

Next time your dear one does something that usually drives you crazy, here’s what to do:

Stop.

Pause.

Exhale to a count of six.

Name (out loud if you need to!) one thing that he or she does that is good. Beautiful.  Kind.  Helpful.

The first one will be hard.  You’ll want to resist this “noticing the good” with all your might.  Anger can get us in its grip, our world can become very myopic, and we hyper focus on the negative…as we get more and more justified.  That’s why you gotta pause and exhale.  It slows down the stress response.  It creates a space for you to make contact with your human brain, connect instead of disconnect, open your awareness instead of closing yourself off in myopic thinking, and have some compassion and gratitude.

After the first thing you name, it gets easier.  You start to remember the way he smiled at you this morning and made you laugh.  You recall the gentleness and authenticity when he says, “I love you.”  You notice all the millions of ways he cares for you without looking for a “thank you.”  You become grateful for how he lets you just be YOU.

MAKE IT AN EVERYDAY KIND OF HABIT:

Try “noticing the good” as you go throughout your everyday life.  You’ll begin to incline the mind (and heart, brain, and life!) toward noticing the good – even when life’s inevitable challenges have you sitting where you may not want to!  This practice will help you stand up, dry off, and let go of the moment.  It’ll support you in choosing to connect rather than choosing to be right.  You’ll  grow closer.  He’ll disengage less — he’ll lean in.  You’ll notice him smiling more often.

NAME THE GOOD IN DAD AROUND YOUR CHILDREN:

Have you ever found yourself spouting off about how your hubby forgot to pick up milk at the grocery store in front of your children?  How about how he needs to fix the toilet or cut the grass and you have this annoyed, “you’re so not on it” kind of voice…and your children hear it?

Catch yourself.  Your daughter needs to see her dad in positive light.  She’s going to look for a mate just like him — and she’s going to treat him how you treat your husband.  Your son needs to see the good in dad. He sees dad as a reflection of himself.  He’ll emulate his dad.

Some hard truths here, but mamas, really we have a LOT of power.  Our vibe, our mood, our sense of compassion all set the tone for the house…and everyone in it.  That’s power.  Let’s ease up on dad.  Let’s notice good in him.  It’s there.  And once you start this new habit, you’ll begin to really notice it’s always been there.  He is a great dad and partner.

Here are some powerful posts to support you in “noticing the good”…in your partner, in yourself, and in this world:

Three Ways to Practice Self-Compassion

Daring to Drop it all and Find the Miraculous Right Here

Tips for Mindful Relationships #3: Speak Their Love Language

Blessings,

Lisa A. McCrohan

** Lisa is the Compassion Coach!  I work with folks who want to live with more delight, compassion, and connection in their everyday lives.  Don’t live in Frederick, MD, or the DC area?  No problema!  Over the phone, over skype, or in person, I offer mindful and compassion coaching.   I am also a body-centered psychotherapist and yoga teacher offering individual sessions and group workshops and retreats.  Visit the Barefoot Barn for more information on our services or contact me with questions, to schedule a time to talk, or learn more.

Drop the Mama Guilt and Get Resourced

I’m a mindful parent. I also work with parents every day to bring more compassion and mindfulness into their lives, including their parenting. I think it’s fabulous how much attention parenting is getting these days. What drives me nuts are posts on some parenting sites and blogs that guilt mamas (and dads) into loving every minute of being a parent and being absolutely perfectly present in every moment.

Holy tamole. It’s too much! There is soooooooooo much focus on how to parent in loving and kind ways – how to effectively manage tantrums, teenagers talking back, and messy rooms. (Actually there is too much information out there that folks don’t know where to go and what to advise to listen to…and so they feel frozen).

And while that’s great, what I DON’T see much of is this: resourcing mom and dad. Teaching mom and dad how to be gentle and kind to ourselves. How to allow ourselves to be human. How to be present to our own hearts and yearnings and sadness and yes, even rage and mourning. And learning to gently tend to and nourish ourselves.

That’s the “harder” stuff. You can focus on discipline strategies ‘til you are blue in the face and things may change…for a moment. But the realllll shifts in our lives AND in our children (and their behavior) come from this: mom and dad learning to be kind and compassionate with our own selves.

We all want our children to grow to become confident, happy, and compassionate adults. A sure way to support this is for us to be kind and gentle with ourselves – to be with whatever rises up within us, responding with compassionate attention.

THIS is the foundation of every single effective parenting or disciplining strategy.

So enooooooough focus on guilting mama into loving every moment of the day. Enooooough telling us that “oh you’d better savor it because…” WE GET IT. Instead, let’s focus on the harder stuff to explain and put into words. Let’s focus on the murkier work. Let’s focus our attention on our own hearts and bodies. Ask yourself: what do you love? What is drawing your attention – from the depths of you?

Let yourself be silently drawn
by the strange pull of what you really love.
It will not lead you astray.
~ Rumi ~

Be the goddess you are. Be the goddess you are called to be. Maybe that means speaking your truth in a way that has been silenced for too long. Maybe that means wearing soft, flowy sensual clothing in fabrics that allow you to move and breathe. Maybe that’s creating, making art, painting, writing. Whatever it is, do it.

(By the way…the blogs/websites on my Blog Roll are about resourcing mamas!)

This is what love feels like

This is What Love Feels Like

Laying down
for a nap
with my daughter

curled up with
my belly
to her back
my arms
around her
little almost
three year old
body

little feet
resting on
my thighs

rhythmic
breathing
deeply
together

we sleep

sacred
holy
complete

this
is
what
love
feels
like.

Lisa A. McCrohan, 2013

A poem to me on my 39th birthday

(A poem for me, to me, on my 39th birthday, shared as prayer with you)…

Embodied

The other night, I watched a video of me that Brian recently filmed.
It was me leading a meditation.
Half way through, I stopped and paused it.

I sat there, staring

at the still frame shot of me. The incessant self-doubt
that strangled my joy for years was simply

not true. I could no longer deny what I now saw before me.
Here was the evidence.

“I see it,” I whispered in the silence of my heart,
“I see what my mother has seen all these years.

I am exquisite.

I embody the life I have led,
the years and hours of meditation and kindness and metta,
meltdowns and cries, softening and letting go
practiced on my cushion,
on the earth dancing and sweating my chants to the Divine,

in our kitchen cutting grapes for toddlers,
tired, alone, longing, yearning, returning
always

right here
to my life as practice, in the car

handing back snacks to hungry little ones wondering if I’ll rest today,
in our bed nursing a newborn in the early hours before dawn,
making love to Brian when we should be sleeping but

returning Home to our bodies reciting poetry to the Divine,

rising early with my prayer shawl wrapped around my growing belly,
sitting in silence until a baby cries and my feet take me to them,
somehow in the dark, and my arms become their shawl…

again and again,
through the doubt and the worry
the shame and the regret
the wondering and the wounds
the mistakes and the miraculous
the cooing and the sighing
the obsessing and

the letting go,

returning

again and again
to the Divine
within.

I already embody what I longed for,
what I thought was missing,
what I believed I was ‘not yet:’

I am sensual and beautiful.”

The words escaped my heart before they could be squelched
by analysis or habitual practices of learning to not be powerful…
and know it. Spoken into existence, they flew

out into the world and danced,

and then back into me
as prayer, as breath,
to be breathed

and then exhaled
as blessing.

Lisa A. McCrohan, © 2013

Everyday Courage

I’ve been reading Brene Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly.”  It is extraordinary.  What she has researched and writes about is what my heart intuitively knows.  Soooo much more to come, but I wanted to share this…

Living courageously is choosing to find, notice, cultivate, and savor the good RIGHT here in our everyday lives!  It’s choosing to connect instead of close off or disconnect because you feel vulnerable and scared, brought on by ollllllld wiring in your brain that is NO LONGER useful!

Today is hardly an ideal day.  We have one sick one – high fever.  Brian is working.  We both have to teach tonight — it’s the first night of a series we are part of facilitating at church.  We have a two year old who wants mom’s attention.  Crazy ads are appearing on my blog and website and facebook page.  We have a ton of things to do for this upcoming week.  Lunch needs to be made.  You know how it is.  You want to create, you have work to do, kids are crying and fighting, your hair isn’t done and you forgot to shave your legs (again!), let alone you haven’t exercised or meditated today.

This is EXACTLY when we need to PAUSE.  To stop right in that moment you feel a tightness coming across your chest.  And soften.  Looooook fooooor the gooooooood.  It’s right here.  In your everyday life.  This is where the magic is — right here in the messiness of our ordinary day.  Put down your cell phone.  Let the dinner-making be for a bit.  Pull out a popsicle if you need to!  And hold your little one – your toddler or teenager – and look at them!  Look at them with regard and love.

Today, I am delighting in Little C’s rainboots and batgirl outfit and how she has a story going on at any given moment of the day.  I’m holding our little five year old with a fever and…doing nothing extraordinary — just trying to be present and kind and love him.  THAT is magic.  THAT is courage in action.

I can’t

Moms.  We are a powerful bunch.  Blood, vomit, skinned knees and elbows, broken bones, broken hearts, lost lovies, middle of the night hugs and holding.  Can’t find your favorite blanket?  No problem.  Want to play basketball this winter?  We’ll get you there.  Gotta do a fundraiser?  Let’s do it.  We make it happen.  We handle it.

But in a world of perfect pinterest pictures and crafts and recipes; in a world where ultimately the buck stops with us; in a world where many of us don’t have the luxury of generations of women with us throughout the day…

…we can feel responsible…for EVERYthing.  How our children act and feel, how the house looks, the finances, menus for meals, making sure our kiddos get enough rest and love and warm clothes and friends and piano practice and exposure to the arts, birthday parties, homemade cupcakes, the right presents…etc etc.

We are the family’s pediatrician, chef, party planner, CPA, soccer coach, chauffeur, social planner, interior designer, hair dresser, breadwinner, school board rep, historian and picture taker…

We get up. We make it happen.  Kiddos are bathed and dressed and sometimes we are, too.

But over the years, though I have felt this ever increasing surge of “at the end of the day, I’m responsible for it all,” I have also found myself saying, “I can’t do it.”

And more and more on a regular basis.

This morning was one of those “I can’t” days.

I can’t stay up till midnight editing family pictures in time for today’s party and get up early and not be exhausted.  I can’t be present to my kiddos when they seem to really just need ME this morning and do the final touches on my presents for family.  I can’t make homemade butternut squash soup, vacuum (at least the main floor!), straighten up, clean the main bathroom, get dressed, get the kiddos fed and happy and off each other, get Christmas cards in the mail, get to mass, get ready for the party at our house WHILE BRIAN IS AT WORK.

I can’t do it alone.

“I can’t do it,” I found myself silently saying to myself as I threw the unbaked butternut squash back into the frig and responded harshly to the kiddos asking for a snack and looked at the disaster of a kitchen.  I called Brian, “I can’t do it.”

A tightness gripped my stomach and spread up to my throat.  I had to admit I couldn’t do it today.

I am not super mom. And though I don’t try to be, I admit, there are times I feel “responsible” as though I were super mom.

Today, this morning, I am tired and cranky and alone mom.  I am  frazzled mom.  I am in-need-of-a-nap-and-some-help mom.  I am in-need-of-breakfast mom.

I couldn’t and I didn’t.

Unknowingly, my dear friend and neighbor happened to call in the middle of it all.  “I’m going to the Common Market, do you need anything?”

God bless you!  “Yes, I need twine!”

“Twine?”

“Yes, twine.  To wrap the cards I made for the girls in my family.”

“I’ve got some.  It’s in tangled in a ball — the kiddos got to it and….”

She didn’t even have to explain.  I got it.  And she got me!

My five year old, who is always spot on and honest and an extrovert who shares, “Mom, you’re kind of like Aunt Petunia this morning (the awful aunt in Harry Potter).  What gives?” And he gave me a hug.

So Brian came.  I slept.  He made the soup, put Clara down for a nap, and straightened up enough.  And from upstairs, I heard…nothing.  And it was beautiful.

I received their kindness today.

We’ve all heard, “Tis better to give than to receive.”

Nope.  It’s harder to receive.  When you give, you are in control.  You are “on top.”  Often someone feels indebted to you.  You get a warm, fuzzy feeling and often a warm and verbose “THANK YOU!”

When you receive…you are brought to the vulnerable raw, helpless, needy parts of yourself.  You are humbled by your own weakness and often times…brokenness.

It’s hard to be in that place.  God forbid we admit being needy and vulnerable and unable to “make it happen.”

Over the years of having kiddos I have been brought to my knees many times — in prayer, sleep deprived and exhausted rocking and nursing, to the toilet vomiting (mine or my kiddos), the floor wiping up god knows what spilled, and into the arms of my Brian saying, “I can’t do it.”

It’s hard to admit that.  But I can’t.  I can’t be present to my kiddos and get a million things done.  I can’t be on the PTA, our CPA, FB, or…some other acronym…and cook homemade meals, blog every day, work, write, do yoga, meditate…..blah blah blah.

So I don’t.

But I can do a few things. And do them with love and attention and kindness.  And that’s what my life is about — being mindful of slowing down, of noticing what really matters, of being ok with not having it all together.  That’s what parenting is teaching me.

I…we all..can do one thing in a moment instead of mulit-tasking and busying our lives and doing a crappy job at it.

We can sllllllllow down.

Leave the dishes.  Forget nicely wrapped presents.  Slow down and receive the moment.

Receive…

This breath.

This hug from your little one,

this Grace,

this help,

this kindness from others.

And so, this morning, my “act of kindness” was to myself (and ultimately, my family!).  I took a nap so I’d wake up as Lisa. Not Aunt Petunia.  Lisa whose eyes smile tenderly at my little ones. Lisa whose can greet family and make folks feel welcomed and loved.  Lisa who can handle a new marble game all over the floor.  Lisa who can hold Little C all afternoon.   Lisa who can read another chapter and another and another of “The MAgic Tree House” to my son.  Lisa who can say, “Thank you” to Brian at the end of a beautiful, humbling day.

Repost: Mindful Moment: My mom’s every day love…in a grapefruit

{I wrote this a year ago.  I was reminded of it because, lately, I find that I am being called to a deeper sense of “selflessness.”  I see and notice and am grateful for how my mom and my husband both live lives of “serving the other.”  I am being called to be “less about me” – in every thing. More on this as the adventure unfolds}.

Grapefruit.  I could’ve sobbed over my grapefruit the other morning.  Carefully cutting the outside circle of my grapefruit, I stopped.  The memory of my mother so lovingly and thoroughly cutting my grapefruit for me as a girl flooded my mind and heart.  Back then, I probably didn’t say, “thank you.”  Back then, I took it for granted that she put such extraordinary care into something so ordinary.  Back then, I’m embarrassed to admit, I never thought that it was any “big deal.”

Now, as a mom to two little ones, I get it.  The time, attention, care, focus, energy, and “groundedness in what is important” it took for my mom to cut my grapefruit and never even say anything about it – I know all too well now what a big deal that is!  To take the time, to put off showering or brushing teeth or fixing her own breakfast, to put attention into one thing instead of being a multi-tasking queen, to muster up the energy from a night of little sleep from a tending to a sick little one, to find balance in divvying up time with more than one child, to recognize in the moment “THIS. This is what matters” — THAT is extraordinary.

mom and me

And I am humbled.  Grateful.  I want to go back in time and savor every little cut out triangle of grapefruit and hug my mom and kiss her and tell her she rocks and thank her for all the little every day ways she showed me extraordinary love.  Cutting my grapefruit.  Making my lunch (yes, even through high school).  Telling me to “take a mental health day.”  Braiding my hair.  Driving me (and team mates!) to and from soccer practice.  The list goes on.   Flashes of these memories flood my heart.  And I pick up my phone to call her.  She’s asleep.  My heart can’t wait to tell her “thank you.”

Ordinary things done with extraordinary love.

Before having my two little ones, I wanted to do extraordinary things in this world.  I had specific ideas about what that meant.  None of them involved cutting grapefruit.  But the other morning, I thought about how now it’s my turn to embody this legacy of loving with great tenderness and attention in the ordinary.  And I am quietly grateful as I go about my afternoon.  I cut an apple for my two little ones, peeling the skin carefully so my little C. can easily chomp away.

beholding my little one

grandma…still lovingly regarding her honeys

B-bye Guilt, Hello Goddess

Reblogged from Gems of Delight:

Guilt.  Mama guilt.  Wife guilt.  Whatever kind of guilt you got -- let's let it go!  Let's encourage each other to drop the guilt.  We can be awfully, awfully hard on ourselves.  Our "Oh I did a bad thing" or "I should be doing such and such" or "A good...... (mom, friend, wife) does such and such" can quiiiiickly turn in to "I'm bad."  Then we've got shame. 

Read more… 256 more words

Reposting for all you goddesses out there!

Three ways to mother ourselves

hold a dear one

We all have them. Parts of ourselves that we try to avoid looking at. Parts we deny are there. Parts we get furious with for being “weak” and “wanting attention.”

The angry, guilty, ashamed, resentful, judgmental, rage-full, needy parts.  How about the “no way in the world will I tell anyone about this” part?

We tend to try and push these parts to the side or get ride of them.  Other times, we get consumed by them.  Most often, we judge them – and ourselves.

We could all use a dose of gentleness and kindness.  The energy of trying to keep at bay those parts of ourselves is like trying to hold down a beach ball under water.

It’s exhausting and takes a lot of focus and energy. What inevitably happens? Yep – we lose touch on the ball and it shoots right up.

There’s another way.

Three Tips to Mother Yourself

1. Allow those painful parts to be seen. Without reacting to them, pushing them away, getting lost in their “story.” Just let them be.  Say to them, “I see you,” with kindness and regard.

2. Breathe. Take a sacred time-out, and just feel yourself being breathed.  For just a moment or two.  This creates a sense of spaciousness as you continue to say “I see you” to that part and give it kindness.

3. As our beloved Thich Nhat Hanh says, treat them as a ‘dear one,’ as a mother holding and tending to and embracing her little one.   Yes, that’s right.  The parts you have been trying to push down for years, maybe decades, you embrace them and hold them like a mother holding her child.  And notice how you soften. Notice how these “dreaded” and feared parts of yourself lose some of their power as you hold them with kindness and in spaciousness.

And you don’t have to DO anything, mama!, to make those ashamed or painful parts go away or stop. You just hold them as if you were holding a little one in those beautiful arms of yours. This is RADICAL ACCEPTANCE. And a sense of lightness arises.

“Clearly recognizing what is happening inside us, and regarding what we see with an open, kind and loving heart, is what I call Radical Acceptance…When we practice Radical Acceptance, we begin with the fears and wounds of our own life and discover that our heart of compassion widens endlessly. In holding ourselves with compassion we become free to love this living world. This is the blessing of Radical Acceptance; As we free ourselves from the suffering of ‘something is wrong with me,’ we trust and express the fullness of who we are.” – Tara Brach

Blessings of Delight,
Lisa

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Made by tiny hands with love: the best mother’s day gifts

painted pottery from my dear ones

I am that mom today.  The mom who gets home-made gifts from her kiddos.   This is the first time.  And I am beaming.

I held this two pieces of pottery painted by my children, and I instantly treasured them.  I had a flash to the future when my children are grown and out in the world, one morning I wake and go into the cupboard to grab a plate, and I see this plate my two year old made.  And I am taken back to this very moment when she woke up, ran down the stairs, and said, “Mommy, happy mother’s day!” And continued to “help me” unwrap her gift telling me it’s very fragile and the “techniques” she used with her paint brush to get the beautiful swirls.

Another flash into the future:  my five year old son is a grown man, I have just been out in our garden (which, of course, Brian maintains!) and gathered a few of the first spring flowers of the year.  I come back in to look for the perfect vase and I find this one my son made me.  And I pause as I am brought back to this very moment when he told me how he painted it with his favorite color and how he painted the whole thing, even the bottom, and signed his name.

I can see why my mom treasured the hand-made gifts we made for her.  I can see why other moms talk about how the gifts made with tiny and messy hands are absolutely the best mother’s day gifts a mom could imagine.

Today, I am grateful for the privilege to be a mom.  I am awed by the delight in my children’s eyes when they offer me something they made with their tiny hands.  I am in love, gooshy, and so so deeply grateful all over again.