She asked... How do you do that?

Oh the lives of the children.  Whether parents are public speakers or just parents . Children endure Facebook photos ( they would rather not ever have posted ...one can only use it is for Grandma and your aunts and uncles so many times), stories ( they would rather not have told to Grandma let alone the entire listening audience) and intimate moments shared for a greater good (supposedly).

If I listen to their heart beats, my six children, become my greatest teachers. One such moment happened this weekend. 

My kids have trained me well. I know that if I want photos I do have to drop the it's for nana or so and so line.  Actually my kids know me very well. Last night as one of my older ones and I were talking about first day of school photos, he said, "I bet you told nana to text us directly." Well, I did but it is because she asked for first day of school photos and what I really said was, "they will do it more for you than for me, text them directly."

Oh, the beauty of family.
We know each other... for the good and the bad, and all that is in between.

I had lots of precious and not so precious moments this weekend with different pairings of kids as an annual festival rolled into town.  Not so precious = youngest daughter and I went for an early morning Farmer's Market muffin.  Her favorite thing to do.  We sat in the square and listened to a great Irish singer (my heart goes to these ballads as certain sons of mine can sing them amazingly... not often, especially if they know I'm listening and want them to... The wonder of teenagers.. But amazing none the less. I have sat against a bathroom door for an hour listening to one of  them sing. Eyes closed, face totally taken over by a smile and heart full. It is certainly one of my favorite things in life.)

Back to the youngest of our family. She was so extremely excited about the bouncy houses and just couldn't wait for them to inflate.  Except something, still don't know what... got into her eye.  Her grit and determination ended up giving way, to a six year old heart that needed to be carried, numerous blocks back to the parking garage in order to be taken home and given Benadryl. She was and is and will continue to be a champ of all champs. I guess being the youngest of six you sort of have to be.

The days of the festival would be broken up with trips back and forth. Thank God for my husband's parking pass to the garage near where he works. Me and one kid, me and two kids, me and kids and their friends, bands of all sorts, stalls selling all kinds of wares and all kinds of people.

That brings me to the title of this post....  It was nearing the end of the activities. Oh, by the way.. the old adage of moms can't be sick was in total affect these days.  As I drove back and forth and walked up and down streets, my body and I were having numerous conversations.  I was explaining to it that my life didn't have time for it to be acting the way it was, and it wanted me to know it was time for a nap.  It would win out Saturday afternoon.  Bodies have a way of doing that.

But Saturday evening, we had library books that were due and so oldest daughter and I headed back into town to return books and take one more stroll around the streets.  We came to this one stall.  It was representing a local massage business. However they also host, what I can only imagine are amazing concerts once a month.  I had attempted to go this past month. Except I had read the sign wrong.  It hadn't read first Sunday of the month, it had read "fourth" Sunday of the month.  I arrived a week too late. Oh well, there will be this month.

So the woman standing within the booth looked like the picture of the woman on the flier.  So I stopped and started what I thought was just a plain old conversation. I asked about the concert. I acknowledged that I thought she was the artist. I shared my story expressed my wishes to come this month, and good byes were shared.

As we walked away, my oldest (most amazing of a human being) daughter asked, "How do you do that?"  She had been watching and taking in the conversation.  Understanding her question, I answered flippantly first, "Well, honey.. I've made a life of being a public speaker." She smiled. Then I gently brushed some hair out of her face, took her hand, and pointing to my gut said,   "It comes from here."

We kept talking and I shared how it wasn't always so easy. I had to learn more of who I was and get comfortable with that and still get comfortable with that. We moved on and went to different stalls and walked and walked until once again my body became louder than my will.

But what would stay loud was those moments. "It comes from here."

It didn't always. Once upon a time it came from me putting on a charade. Wearing masks, not knowing who the hell I was but knowing what the expectations were, and attempting to live up to that.  Trying to be genuine, and in hindsight I believe I was for the time as much as I could be.... Except, I was who I thought others wanted me to be, needed me to be, or even who I thought I wanted to be or needed to be....
What?  I played roles.  Not so much  mom, wife, friend.. But wife of a man who made his living speaking in a public setting, woman in a male dominated ministry culture, friend to people who would as likely stab you in the back as smile at your face.. (or potentially only be your friend because of who said husband might be.) One learns how to play the games, how to do the "that," one learns how to do the "that," well or one perishes. I have watched it first hand. It is tragic and beyond sad, sadly at times even deadly.

So I've held onto the statement that answered the question of how do I do such things, as just go up to strangers and strike up a conversation, or the one that gets my kids is when strangers just come up to me, believing they have seen me before whether in real life or crazy enough in a dream, and I step into a conversation, listening... responding... welcoming... smiling.. enjoying humanity.

I've held onto the answer, "it comes from here."  I'm learning more and more what actually and authentically does initiate and stream forth from the core of me.  I'm discovering that which comes from "here."

How does one do that?
How do you discover what is the treasure deep in the core of you and live from that place?

I'm no expert... But here are a few practices that have strengthened me along the way... Feel free to add on yours in the comments....

1) Spend time with........... yourself. This is not as easy as it sounds. It deserves its own post.  But quickly and simply put.... Pick a place that can be quiet and have all electronics off and far from reach.  Don't berate yourself if you start with 30 seconds.  I have had clients burst into tears at the 10 second mark of silence. It really is ok. In this culture we do not respect silence and stillness. If you have not put it into practice, it will be so foreign to your being that touching shock isn't out of the question.  Let your body, emotions, soul and spirit react. Take notice... Come back to this place as often as you can, try for at least once a day for as much time as you can. (On busy days, I pack at least three 5 minute places of silence, stillness and sitting with myself to reground and recharge)

2) Spend time with those who put your heart at ease... In this case a picture or pictures are worth 1000s of words...

 

These guys more and more show me the best within me, (also the worst at times.. be not afraid of the "dark side," it too has lessons to teach.) 

3) Spend time with nature. There is nothing like sitting and touching the grass with bare feet or hands or entire body.  I recently went to a local park at 5am and sat criss cross upon the grass. Then I placed the soles of my feet upon the grass. Then I leaned forward over my crossed legs and placed my hands upon the grass. I also laid over my legs and placed my face to the earth and I laid back and looked up and stared at the sky and clouds and beauty.  I listened to the birds and noticed how their songs changed as the sunrise approached.

Spend time with nature. The elements of nature are what they are.. that is the beauty of creation and the good it grants to humanity. A tree is a tree. A cloud is a cloud. A blade of grass is a blade of grass. Nature grounds oneself and speaks and quiets and allures you into discover of yourself and it. The lessons nature has taught me as of late are changing my life.



4) Spend time with creativity.  For me it is words. Books. Journals. Magazine scraps. I love words. I love creating with words.

I see them dance around my head and when I type I feel like my fingers are playing upon a musical keyboard and can hear the symphony and melody of language.  It fills my soul. As I embrace this passion, I embrace self and the truest expression of myself.  I love the articulation and communication of concepts, love, friendship, pain, suffering, success, joy, struggle, faith, energy, light and that list can and does go on an on... I have a beautiful friend who is extremely creative and her journals and my journals look very different. I can sit and write and write and write. She can sit and write one word on a page and use her color pens to decorate the page or take scraps from a magazine and glue them on a page and that is her melody and song.  Some it is literal melody and song. Others it is running. Still others it is scaling the cliffs or diving to the depths, or looking up at the stars.  Discover what courses through your core by touching expression and seeing which one fits you the best. This is no one size fits all...




"How do you do that?"

The simplest and most profound answer is I relax and in so doing find myself and the expression of that place is the how I do that which I do in the most effortless way.
Be you and not some portrayal of you or any other human being... It might take time to wash off the mud of self or other's expectations, opinions, etc... Take the time...
"How do I do that".. I listen for the song, that streams along the insides of me to the cellular level, and tune into that and push play....