I use to not be such a fan of animals but my readings on consciousness have changed that about me. They’ve taught me to observe animals and to learn. Many meditation exercises include animals such as conscious butterfly watching.
Seriously when is the last time you watched a butterfly fly?
I watch a squirrel in our backyard and I wonder. Does the mama squirrel stress out over all the chores she has to do? Does she worry that she won’t build the shelter in time or that she won’t store enough food for the winter? I wonder, does she doubt herself or does she believe in herself?
Is an animal even able to imagine a worst case scenario?
Probably not.
A squirrel is surely capable of fear towards something real but unless it’s dreaming I would imagine it cannot scare itself by imagining worst case scenarios for herself and her fuzzy family. She doesn’t stress too much about it she just goes out there every day, rain or shine. She climbs the trees, stores de fruit, hides the nuts. She just does what she’s got to do to prepare for winter. Every day she trusts that the sun will go down and then come up again tomorrow.
Hmm I guess these books are right. Apparently I can learn from animals.
Now this mama squirrel has to go do mama squirrel things.
But still, I cannot help but wonder. Does that mama squirrel ever feel like she needs a crazy night out to party and unwind?
I was barricaded in my glass home, and could see a masked gunman getting out of his car walking towards me. Somehow I knew who he was and why I was his target. I ran to the back of the house and handed my two year old son to a neighbour and watched as he was dragged away kicking and screaming with his arms reaching out to me. My heart shattered, for I knew this would be the last time I saw him. My body was overwhelmed in a sense of panic; I could feel my heart rate racing and my breaths getting shorter.
Suddenly I wake up.
It was a dream.
For a brief instance, I did believe it all. I had a son who I loved and a gunman who I feared. They were all real at the time. Everything that I base myself on to define reality was involved in this illusion. My senses wronged me, my memory failed me and my common sense was outright absent.
I realized all this when I woke up. Or else, I’d still believe it.
So what tells me that I’m not dreaming right now?
Who’s to say that right now is nothing but an illusion?
Quantum physics theorists state that matter as we know it does not exist. They compare “matter” to a hologram. According to them, a difference in vibrational frequencies is what differs the visible from the invisible, or the tangible from the intangible.
So basically, it is all an illusion. Kind of like my dream.
Real for now … until something else is reality.
Perhaps when we die, we wake up from this illusion into another dimension of reality, just like I woke up from my dream, back into this life.
My dream was my reality, while my reality was right there…sleeping. My dream and my life were both real, at the same time, in the same place, but in different dimensions.
Life is the same. The reality we seek is present, at all times. Except for now, this dimension is the one we perceive as our reality.
Heaven is here.
Hell is here.
Don’t worry so much. Just ride the wave. Someday, we’re going to wake up from this, and realize we had nothing to fear all along.
Perhaps, if someone had told me I was dreaming, while I was dreaming, I would’ve realized that whatever was happening was a creation of my subconscious mind. Perhaps, if I were aware that I was dreaming within the dream, I could focus, concentrate on my inner self and communicate with my real self. Basically just think to myself. Perhaps, if I realized that I, the I that I am, who is sleeping and dreaming of a glass house, a gunman and a son, perhaps I, could’ve changed the outcome of the dream.
Perhaps if I were conscious, I would have more control.
If life is an illusion, as these physicists claim, if life is a vibrational frequency, a reality within a parallel universe…then to me, it sounds exactly like a dream.
So how do I take control of this dream? Can I take control of this life?
Is the power of consciousness real? Is the power of the mindset real? How about the power of attraction?
This is where I am now, testing all this out, within myself.
I’ll let you know what happens…you know I always do.
It’s almost 9:30 pm. 23 month old A2 is standing up wailing in her crib. 5 year old A1 who shares the bedroom is narrating what’s happening and A3 just woke up by the chaos.
Beautiful.
It’s these moments that keep me in peace.
A2 just tossed her blanket and pacifier out of her crib again. I tried explaining to her that if she tosses them again, she won’t get them back… but we both know that she won’t sleep without them. So this is another mind game.
She threw them out, again, and she’s still crying. I tried taking them for a while. She cried… I held on to them for a few minutes then gave them back. That will work, I hoped.
Well it didn’t. She tossed them out within the same second and is still crying.
I went back to my chair without picking them up. And here I am. I’ve written about the chair before. I have a chair set up outside their bedroom, where I sit until they fall asleep. It’s been a while though. They’ve been good lately and didn’t require me to sit here until they fell asleep. But A2’s getting close to the crazy two’s and so I’m back here again.
It’s been a few minutes, I’m wondering if I should get up and hand her the pacifier and blanket just yet. Her cries are sounding more and more tiresome, with yawning intervals.
I got up and handed them to her, came back to my seat. I talked to her…I shouldn’t have talked to her.
She just threw them out again!
She wins this round, again.
Why don’t I just yell at her?
Because then I would teach her that yelling is a mean of communication that I use.
Because then she will fall asleep with fear having been her last emotion of the day.
Because then I would have put my child to bed in anger.
I’m hoping there’s a better solution.
I’ll figure it out…eventually.
This isn’t working.
A1 just suggested “call dad.”
Ya, call Jack and have him do the dirty work…
Ok one more try…
I tried the utter most tenderness. I went in, didn’t say a word picked her up, held her tight, kissed her, cleaned her face from tears, leaned down with her, she reached for her blanket and pacifier. I stood up, still not saying a word, I pointed to my cheek, she reached in and gave me a kiss. Then I pointed to her crib, placed her in. Sung her a lullaby and walked out.
Went back to my chair.
By the time my butt touched the seat …
She was already up and bawling again.
That was a complete fail.
Jack just came up. He gave it a go…
He tried tenderness, some discipline, yelled a little, played a little, danced a little…
Still a no go.
He leaves.
We should make them pay for tickets at this point, because we’ve become a show!
Ok I’m desperate; it’s been over 40 minutes. I know she’s tired.
I take out my phone and go online. Search for an Armenian Lullaby. I play it and go back to my seat.
She stopped.
This song is really beautiful.
She’s sleeping.
Unbelievable!
The power of music…
They’re sleeping in peace, no one got mad at another, no anger, no fear, no guilt.
Just love and music.
Ah… now that this is done, I should start with my chores… I’ll rest when I’m old.
Goodnight.
P.S Listen to this song, it will make any man, woman or child give in to slumber.
Today, A2 came home from day care with two really large tomatoes. She had picked them herself from the daycare’s teacher’s garden. I can just imagine the fit she threw in order for them to let her pick them. She comes home and orders me “open !”.
I just had time to wash them when she grabbed one of them and sunk her teeth in them. She has my teeth… That means she can do a lot of damage.
Her face was covered in that tomatoes juices, it was dripping down to her chin and into her shirt. That’s how food ends up in our children’s diapers. You open up their diapers and find out what they’ve eaten that day. I’m not talking about the poop, I’m talking about the food you find, as is. It’s like a buffet it there .
After she was done with that identity challenged fruit or vegetable , the house was covered in tomato juice and seeds. Me and my mom were walking around the house with rags in our hands looking for tomato crime scenes.
Sometimes there was even a blood trail leading up to the scene.
Once we got her face, the stairs, the carpet and the couches all cleaned up me and my mom were sitting and laughing at it all, when my mom said to me” wipe you nose, you have something.”
I must admit I didn’t go for a tissue and went straight for it.
It.
It, was a tomato seed.
Its Saturday 1pm, A2’s crying hysterically standing in her crib. She has to nap so I can catch up with the things I need to do. Maybe if I’m lucky and the stars align I can sneak in a little nap or even a shower? There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful.
I just need her to nap so that I can at least catch up to the mess they’ve done. A2’s new favorite hobby is to empty drawers and closets onto the floor. Thank goodness she’s gotten over her habits involving toilet water…
I go into her room, she’s crying and has got her arms out for me… they do that just to melt your heart.
Me: Do you want to sleep with the teddy bear?
A2: NO!
Me: Do you want to sleep with the rabbit?
A2: NO!
I’m going around the room at thins point, grabbing each stuffed animal I see and showcasing it like a price is right model as I ask her..
“Do you want to sleep with the Pony?”
A2:NO!
We went through the monkey, hello kitty, Whinny the Pooh, who are all sitting on the night stand.
No, No, No.
I get mad,
at the stuffed animals.
“Quick! Go to sleep! All of you! Everyone’s heads down!”
Sounded like a hold-up.
And I put all the stuffed animals heads down.
“ Look at how A2 is sleeping quietly, I want you all to do the same as her! You’re all gona drink your milks and then sleep just like A2!”
A2 followed and put her head down.
She’s looking at me with a big smile on her face, so proud to be in charge. She glanced over at the collection of stuffed animals who are all lying down, and points her index finger at them, then put her head down and went to sleep.
Lately A2’s been throwing bed time tantrums. She’s almost 2 now. She decides she wants to go to bed, grabs her pacifier, blanket and bottle, does her rounds, says good night to everyone in the house, goes up the stairs and willing goes into her crib. All seems well … until we leave the room.
I’m sitting on a rocking chair, in the hallway, right outside A2’s bedroom where she can see me.
She’s standing up in her crib yelling. She just threw her pacifier, bottle and blanket out.
A2: “Mommmmmmmmmmy!”
Me: “Mommy’s here.”
I just got up, and handed her the pacifier and blanket. She reached out her arms “Please! Please!” and she’s crying really hard. I went back to my chair.
“Mommy’s here” is all I keep repeating.
I’m trying this technique I was taught when A1 was throwing bed time tantrums a few years ago. It worked back then with her, now I’m hoping it will work on A2.
I was told by a family member who is the principal of a daycare, to sit outside her room where she could see me. Make sure you’re not IN her room, she specified. So back then I set up the rocking chair outside A1’s room and I would sit there for 30 to 40 minutes every day until she fell asleep. I was pregnant with A2 then. I loved that time on that chair. If something needed to be done during the day I would leave it for “chair time”, I would fold the laundry, sow, even iron in that spot. Oh I just remembered how Jack would make me ginger tea for my nausea back then. And when I finished my chores, I would read. I’ve never read as much as I’ve read in this chair outside A1’s room.
Here I am, almost two years later, in the same spot.
It seems to have workedon A2. She’s not crying anymore, and she has her head down.
I love the chair time because you’re on duty but it’s still “me” time. I’m so happy to be sitting here again. I guess this is where I’ll be blogging from now on.
Now that the Stanley Cup has been won and there’s no more Hockey I was worried about when I’ll have the chance to blog…but everything worked out.
She’s fallen asleep.
Most of the time I question my parenting skills and wonder if I’m doing the right thing, but it feels so good when I know I’ve done something right.
I’m really happy to be on the chair again, I had forgotten how great it was.
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