Yin Yang in Chinese science and philosophy is used to describe seemingly contrary yet interconnected forces. I stay at home. My husband works. This has both been an advantage for our family, but also an occasional source of conflict in our relationship. M and I don’t argue or bicker really, we don’t “fight” about anything; but sometimes we have a “disconnect” in our appreciation for each other’s current “roles.” I carry the “homemaker,’ “housewife” title; M carries the burden of being the sole “bread-winner.” This can be the origin of a great deal of stress for him -- especially when things at work are not optimal. At any job there are times of transition and change, bosses come and go, work pressures increase and decrease, sometimes the future is unsure; especially in today’s market. My husband is great at handling these situations without complaint or discontent, but sometimes the damn breaks....flooding our home with dissatisfaction. What can I do when I feel so helpless to help?
My first reaction during these times of restlessness is my “go to” mode of: “Don’t worry, everything will work out.” This is my attempt at contrived ignorance. No nonsense, just a hope for the best. I realize this is not what my husband wants to hear when he needs my empathy and support. When it comes to stressful situations, sometimes my “nurturing” personality gene goes dormant. It should be effortless, especially when M is so caring and loving. Is it just me? Shouldn’t “nurturing” be easy for a housewife, a homemaker, a mother? Sometimes, I just feel nurtured-out.
Yin yang are not opposing forces, but complementary opposites: hidden (feminine) and manifest (masculine). These forces interact in a dynamic system, one does not exist without the other, just as light cannot exist without darkness. My husband and I have much in common, but many differences that set us apart. He is confident, I am cautious. He is forward-thinking, I have been known to get caught up in the past. M enjoys occasional risk-taking, “prudent” could be my middle name. He is sentimental, me? not so much -- I could easily forget our anniversary. And yet we are both responsible, adventurous, thoughtful, passionate, and very, very silly -- even goofy. Together we can analyze a situation into paralysis; but we know how to laugh about it too. We really love a good laugh. Predictable, unpredictable. Hot, cold. Spicy, sweet. Serious, playful -- Who’s who?, it doesn't even matter. We play all the roles at different times. The list could go on and on. Add it all up, mix in little bit of nerdy (okay, a lot of nerdy) and you get...a love affair, with ups, downs, and turn arounds.
I am not sure if it was our commonalities or differences that got us together, but it is undeniably both that keep our interest. This is why I feel so lucky in our partnership. We revolve around each other like Yin and Yang; cultivating balance in our lives but more importantly, in ourselves. It is a long process, one that we haven’t even begun to realize. Despite all of this, when work needs to be done, when the children are running around screaming “I’m hungry!,” and dishes can’t wait; taking the time to appreciate our partners can be hard. I must pause...take a moment to recognize and admire my spouse -- acknowledge and enjoy my children -- but never forget to nurture myself too.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Home Alone
I’m not really home alone. I have my two boys with me, but without adult supervision. My husband often travels for work -- sometimes for short periods, sometimes for several weeks. The lead up to his “leaving” is painful for all of us -- the boys don’t understand why he has to go, and I get cranky when I think about it, I mean cranky. The anticipation of “being alone” is almost worse than actually “being alone.”
I am a bit resentful, even though I try not to show it. I know that a “work” trip does involve “working,” but it is also a suspension of the routine, the “grind.” After having NB I chose to stay at home. There are lots of advantages to being at home, but it is hard to value -- being left behind. I have explained this to M, and I think he “gets it.” What can be lost on the traveling spouse, however, is this: For the next few days you can concentrate on yourself, your work, and your expense paid meal. You don’t have to cook, clean, or entertain any little people. You have a goal to accomplish, a project to finish, and camaraderie with adults along the way. You may even be visiting a new place, and having a little fun. I know its “work,” and I am sure I cannot appreciate the pressures and deadlines involved; but it is a “break” too.
The truth is, I would worry if we actually ever stopped complaining about the trips. If we didn’t miss Daddy, then we would have an entirely different problem -- harder to fix.
Having no relatives nearby, this is an example of when the small nuclear family unit really doesn’t fulfill our needs. We live in a neighborhood with friends around, but invitations are needed for a stopover. Besides, they are all spending time with their own families. I really don’t want to intrude. Once M is gone and the initial shock has passed, the boys usually rally. They understand that I am handling everything by myself and eventually appreciate me a little bit more. It’s sweet, really. We fall into balance, on our precarious seesaw. When Daddy comes home that balance gets upset again -- but we find it...eventually.
Actually being “home alone” is more like a fantasy. It reminds be of a scene from the comedy, Date Night, a movie that can only be truly appreciated by married folks with young children. Tina Fey’s character confesses to her husband that her ultimate fantasy is not another man, but being alone in hotel room sipping a soda without having to worry about her husband or children. I have this fantasy too, but it takes place in my own home and with a glass of wine -- eating what I want, reading whenever I choose, listening to music without interruption, watching what I want on TV, going out for whatever reason, and having cupcakes and sushi for dinner -- in that order. I know I would get lonely after a few days, wish for the routine again, even long for my kids raucousness -- but just 48 hours of uninterrupted “aloneness” seems like heaven. Sometimes, I need to miss my kids too.
I am a bit resentful, even though I try not to show it. I know that a “work” trip does involve “working,” but it is also a suspension of the routine, the “grind.” After having NB I chose to stay at home. There are lots of advantages to being at home, but it is hard to value -- being left behind. I have explained this to M, and I think he “gets it.” What can be lost on the traveling spouse, however, is this: For the next few days you can concentrate on yourself, your work, and your expense paid meal. You don’t have to cook, clean, or entertain any little people. You have a goal to accomplish, a project to finish, and camaraderie with adults along the way. You may even be visiting a new place, and having a little fun. I know its “work,” and I am sure I cannot appreciate the pressures and deadlines involved; but it is a “break” too.
The truth is, I would worry if we actually ever stopped complaining about the trips. If we didn’t miss Daddy, then we would have an entirely different problem -- harder to fix.
Having no relatives nearby, this is an example of when the small nuclear family unit really doesn’t fulfill our needs. We live in a neighborhood with friends around, but invitations are needed for a stopover. Besides, they are all spending time with their own families. I really don’t want to intrude. Once M is gone and the initial shock has passed, the boys usually rally. They understand that I am handling everything by myself and eventually appreciate me a little bit more. It’s sweet, really. We fall into balance, on our precarious seesaw. When Daddy comes home that balance gets upset again -- but we find it...eventually.
Actually being “home alone” is more like a fantasy. It reminds be of a scene from the comedy, Date Night, a movie that can only be truly appreciated by married folks with young children. Tina Fey’s character confesses to her husband that her ultimate fantasy is not another man, but being alone in hotel room sipping a soda without having to worry about her husband or children. I have this fantasy too, but it takes place in my own home and with a glass of wine -- eating what I want, reading whenever I choose, listening to music without interruption, watching what I want on TV, going out for whatever reason, and having cupcakes and sushi for dinner -- in that order. I know I would get lonely after a few days, wish for the routine again, even long for my kids raucousness -- but just 48 hours of uninterrupted “aloneness” seems like heaven. Sometimes, I need to miss my kids too.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
It Takes a Village
A day in the life: dishes, cook, clean counters, more dishes, sweep, clean floors, pick up clothes, do laundry, wipe chairs, pick up toys, pick up toys, pick up toys, wipe the toilets, do more laundry, go back to cooking, clean the kitchen, wipe hands, face, snot, change diapers, ugh! gotta wipe the toilets again (boys).... and this is often in the space of just one hour. I cannot neglect to help with piano practice, homework, and chauffeur the kids all over town for various after-school activities, appointments, and errands. Oh, and then there are the weekly chores: cleaning bathrooms, dusting, vacuuming, lawn work, garbage detail, grocery shopping etc. I can’t get sick, feel grumpy, or just be a little off -- chores would multiply. A child-free doctor’s appointment is a lucky break. Yoga and coffee is an indulgence. I never thought I would say this but, I am an accidental housewife.
I realize that housework is not difficult, thoughtful, or changing the world. The days of arguing briefs and persuading a jury for the right cause are in the past. I negotiate with little people now. Instead of the “smoking gun” document; m&m’s and popsicles are my secret weapon. I was chatting with a friend who mentioned an interesting after school activity that would be great for my kids. But I just don’t have any more time! I wonder how moms get anything done with a job outside the home?? Frankly, I need a village, or maybe just another....“wife.” Hmmmmm.....
Polygamy is the generic term for marriage to more than one spouse at the same time. Most think of polygamy as marriage of one man to several women, but this is actually called polygyny. The more rare type of polygamy is polyandry where one woman marries several men. Now that sounds like hard work. Life would not get any easier.
Okay, I’m not really contemplating “Big Love” here. (M, don’t get any “BIG” ideas....) I just need an extra pair of hands so I can branch out a little, be at two places at once, or just get an intermission, without guilt. Hiring someone to occasionally clean the house doesn't quite fit the bill or fill the “gap.” Putting aside the obvious problematic “sleeping” arrangements, I don’t think I would be fantasizing about “sister wives” if more familial help were around.
The whole problem is really our fault. My husband and I like to travel. Before children, we didn’t mind moving around and suffered from a touch of wanderlust. Ultimately, we chose to live in this town because we like it here, and there was a job here. Family in Orlando and New York was only a two hour plane ride away -- didn’t seem so far at the time. Generations ago people lived with or very near their parents, uncles, aunts, and grandparents. Families didn’t move around so much. The world was smaller, and jobs were more easily found. Everyone helped each other, and helped raise each other’s kids. This extended or joint family unit is still common in many Asian, Middle Eastern, and African countries -- other far away lands. In this country, however, it would not only be unusual to live with family under the same roof; but it would be seen as “strange” and in the kindest way, provincial.
I am not sure that the western nuclear family got it right. Being too nuclear can be difficult, even lonely. We moms (and dads) need a break. I would love to have some family guidance and help around -- not in the same house, mind you, but nearby. Wouldn't it be nice just to call mom and say: “I need a hand today, can you take the kids?” or “Lets have dinner together tonight, how about your place?” No pressure mom and dad...but Durham is a nice town to live in. (Hint, Hint)
I realize that housework is not difficult, thoughtful, or changing the world. The days of arguing briefs and persuading a jury for the right cause are in the past. I negotiate with little people now. Instead of the “smoking gun” document; m&m’s and popsicles are my secret weapon. I was chatting with a friend who mentioned an interesting after school activity that would be great for my kids. But I just don’t have any more time! I wonder how moms get anything done with a job outside the home?? Frankly, I need a village, or maybe just another....“wife.” Hmmmmm.....
Polygamy is the generic term for marriage to more than one spouse at the same time. Most think of polygamy as marriage of one man to several women, but this is actually called polygyny. The more rare type of polygamy is polyandry where one woman marries several men. Now that sounds like hard work. Life would not get any easier.
Okay, I’m not really contemplating “Big Love” here. (M, don’t get any “BIG” ideas....) I just need an extra pair of hands so I can branch out a little, be at two places at once, or just get an intermission, without guilt. Hiring someone to occasionally clean the house doesn't quite fit the bill or fill the “gap.” Putting aside the obvious problematic “sleeping” arrangements, I don’t think I would be fantasizing about “sister wives” if more familial help were around.
The whole problem is really our fault. My husband and I like to travel. Before children, we didn’t mind moving around and suffered from a touch of wanderlust. Ultimately, we chose to live in this town because we like it here, and there was a job here. Family in Orlando and New York was only a two hour plane ride away -- didn’t seem so far at the time. Generations ago people lived with or very near their parents, uncles, aunts, and grandparents. Families didn’t move around so much. The world was smaller, and jobs were more easily found. Everyone helped each other, and helped raise each other’s kids. This extended or joint family unit is still common in many Asian, Middle Eastern, and African countries -- other far away lands. In this country, however, it would not only be unusual to live with family under the same roof; but it would be seen as “strange” and in the kindest way, provincial.
I am not sure that the western nuclear family got it right. Being too nuclear can be difficult, even lonely. We moms (and dads) need a break. I would love to have some family guidance and help around -- not in the same house, mind you, but nearby. Wouldn't it be nice just to call mom and say: “I need a hand today, can you take the kids?” or “Lets have dinner together tonight, how about your place?” No pressure mom and dad...but Durham is a nice town to live in. (Hint, Hint)
Friday, February 3, 2012
Soundtrack to Motherhood, Distorted
I confessed to my husband this weekend that I thought I would be better at “this” -- being a mom, staying at home with the kids, playing with them, teaching them....just being with them. When I found out I was pregnant with NB, fantasies of motherhood went viral in my head. Picture the soundtrack.... singing Beatles music sweetly together, dancing to Marley, rocking out to Greenday or Oasis while baking pies from scratch, and frolicking like pixies through the green wavy grass while Dave Matthews strums along. Turns out my boys run from my singing and tackle me down when I dance. There is not a blade of grass in our backyard (we like to harvest nine different varieties of weeds,) and anyone who knows me...knows I don’t bake, (except for brownies.) My delusions of grandeur were great.
Expectations are always unrealistic.
I am very lucky to have a close grad-school friend (SS) with children around the same age as mine living in the same town. We try and meet one day a week just to catch-up, chat, and basically “confess.” She is awesome, I love her -- I need her. We have a connection from another life before kids: dancing and drinking in bars, dating highs and lows, having fun without too much worry. I feel “no judgment” with her; partially because of who she is as a person, and also because we’ve known each other for a long time. Last week she stopped by with her children on an especially rough day, Teacher Work Day -- both of my kids were home. My boys were having a painfully difficult afternoon of sibling rivalry and frustration. By the time she came over, I was DONE. I had no patience left.
I don’t know who mentioned it first, but we both agreed that “playing” with our kids was tough. My son loves “pretend” play, so does her older daughter. This type of play is very healthy for children. My kids cannot get enough of it. They have visions of dragons around the corner, the next ninja attack, space exploration, pirates on the horizon, alien adventures, detective extraordinaire, cops and robbers, hunting for treasure, and so much more.
Some people have a natural gift of childlike behavior, and can “play” down in the trenches with forts, wizards, and Ewoks. My husband can do this, and when he is in the zone, it’s beautiful. I cannot. Our babysitter is a genius with pretend play, my children absolutely yearn for her company. I appreciate this as a true talent. My oldest can create a labyrinth of imaginary plots and subplots that make me dizzy with confusion. I love that their imaginations are so wild,....so what happened to mine?
SS told me she often invokes a twenty-minute rule when her daughter asks for “story” play. “So do I !,” I confessed. Fifteen minutes doesn’t seem like enough, but thirty minutes is sometimes interminable. In the words of Goldilocks, twenty-minutes is “juuust right.” Instead of setting unreasonable expectations, my husband says I should focus on activities I appreciate, that the kids can enjoy too. So the boys and I often cook together, do arts and crafts, board games, reading, riding the bike, playing in the sand...generally goofing around in the more “practical” realm. I am learning to let go of my expectations of who I “imagined” my kids to be, and who I “thought” I would be with them. I don’t have to be the perfect playmate. The real soundtrack to motherhood may not always be what you imagined, but Dan Zanes and Music Together isn't so bad.
Sing with me to my kids latest favorite song, John the Rabbit:
Expectations are always unrealistic.
I am very lucky to have a close grad-school friend (SS) with children around the same age as mine living in the same town. We try and meet one day a week just to catch-up, chat, and basically “confess.” She is awesome, I love her -- I need her. We have a connection from another life before kids: dancing and drinking in bars, dating highs and lows, having fun without too much worry. I feel “no judgment” with her; partially because of who she is as a person, and also because we’ve known each other for a long time. Last week she stopped by with her children on an especially rough day, Teacher Work Day -- both of my kids were home. My boys were having a painfully difficult afternoon of sibling rivalry and frustration. By the time she came over, I was DONE. I had no patience left.
I don’t know who mentioned it first, but we both agreed that “playing” with our kids was tough. My son loves “pretend” play, so does her older daughter. This type of play is very healthy for children. My kids cannot get enough of it. They have visions of dragons around the corner, the next ninja attack, space exploration, pirates on the horizon, alien adventures, detective extraordinaire, cops and robbers, hunting for treasure, and so much more.
Some people have a natural gift of childlike behavior, and can “play” down in the trenches with forts, wizards, and Ewoks. My husband can do this, and when he is in the zone, it’s beautiful. I cannot. Our babysitter is a genius with pretend play, my children absolutely yearn for her company. I appreciate this as a true talent. My oldest can create a labyrinth of imaginary plots and subplots that make me dizzy with confusion. I love that their imaginations are so wild,....so what happened to mine?
SS told me she often invokes a twenty-minute rule when her daughter asks for “story” play. “So do I !,” I confessed. Fifteen minutes doesn’t seem like enough, but thirty minutes is sometimes interminable. In the words of Goldilocks, twenty-minutes is “juuust right.” Instead of setting unreasonable expectations, my husband says I should focus on activities I appreciate, that the kids can enjoy too. So the boys and I often cook together, do arts and crafts, board games, reading, riding the bike, playing in the sand...generally goofing around in the more “practical” realm. I am learning to let go of my expectations of who I “imagined” my kids to be, and who I “thought” I would be with them. I don’t have to be the perfect playmate. The real soundtrack to motherhood may not always be what you imagined, but Dan Zanes and Music Together isn't so bad.
Sing with me to my kids latest favorite song, John the Rabbit:
John the Rabbit, (yes ma'am).
Gotta mighty habit, (yes ma’am).
Jumping in my Garden, (yes, ma’am).
Cutting down my Cabbage, (yes, ma’am).
My sweet potatoes, (yes, ma’am).
My fresh tomatoes, (yes, ma’am).
And if I live, (yes, ma’am). T
To see next fall, (yes, ma’am).
I ain’t gonna have, (yes, ma’am).
No Garden at all, (no, ma’am).
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Keeping up with the Eco-Jones's
I love food. I love to cook, and would even consider myself a bit of a foodie. Lately, however, I haven’t felt very adventurous in the kitchen. I used to get excited about a creating a meal, considered it a work of art. Taking a leisurely stroll through the grocery store, spending a few hours preparing, drinking, cooking, then plating. Mmmmmm...can you smell the garlic, leeks, and fennel? Fast forward ten years, only to hear my seven-year old’s disgusted tone: “I don’t like this!” “But how do you know, you haven’t even tried it ?” “I just know.” A ridiculous discussion later, threatening, bargaining, some tears, a few bites eaten; I capitulate only to have him finish dinner with a yogurt. Ugh! Why do I even try? Luckily my youngest will still eat anything....but for how long?
I suspect this behavior is common, but I do wonder... I live in circles where most mommies are making sure their kids have the best, organic, greenest, freshest, local ingredients -- no processed food, nothing canned, frozen, or otherwise altered, converted, or refined. If you can’t pronounce it, it doesn’t belong in your child’s body. They have managed to raise discerning children who refuse Goldfish and love kale and spinach. My oldest never saw a Goldfish he didn’t like, and he would never munch on kale and spinach unless it were hidden in soup, brownies, or otherwise unrecognizable. (Yes, I have perfected a kick-ass spinach brownie recipe.)
I am endlessy concerned about the food my kids put in their mouths. I generally buy organic and/or local -- especially for fruits, vegetables, and meat. This is really very expensive. I am on a new food budget this year and right now I am running close to empty dollars for the next 8 days until a new month will finally liberate me. Being healthy and green is not cheap, and we are an upper middle-class family with lots of resources. How can the rest of America do it? I don’t like giving my kids processed food, but I don’t shun it either. I use it to keep the balance around here....when I am running late, when the kids need a quick bite after school, as a treat, and even when I just don’t feel like cooking.
I was appalled when I heard about Congress approving tomato sauce as vegetable, making pizza easier to serve as a side “vege” in school lunch. Is this a joke? Look, I love pizza, its tasty. I eat it, a lot; but it’s not a health food. I can make it healthier at home by choosing wheat flour, organic tomatoes, cheese from grass-fed cows; but this takes a lot of thought and even more money. I pack lunch for my school-aged son because school lunch, frankly, looks gross. It goes without saying that most of the items are not full of hearty goodness. I believe good nutrition is the baseline for healthy, focused, happy kids; so what is a concerned mommy on a limited budget to do?
I feel like I am always trying to keep up with the Eco-Jones’s and falling far behind. You know who you are. You have spring, summer, and winter vegetable crops in your back yard, raise chickens for eggs, buy food only from the local farmer’s market, make everything from scratch, (even the beer you drink,) compost all biodegradables, power on solar and/or geothermal, and top it off with a car that runs on vegetable grease. I revere you! You are my idols! I recently read an article about a no-waste family whose whole year of land-fill garbage fit in a 32oz. canning jar. Yikes! I can fill that in a minute! These folks do not buy anything that comes in a package. They bring their own sack cloths and jars with them to the store.....and I thought I was doing well by reusing my own recycled grocery bags to shop with, oh well.
Science tells us that nutrition affects behavior, personality, brain-power, attention, and focus. My husband thinks I should corner the market for an organic, slow-cooked, hearty “school lunch” business. Neat idea, but first I need to corner that market at home and figure out how to manage the “organically processed” Goldfish and Oreo-like cookies in my pantry. Maybe that business would go along with the cookbook I’ve thought about doing, something like: Cooking Together: Delicious and Healthy Meals Even Your Kids May Like ??? We’ll see how these brilliant schemes fit in with my dream to become an NPR writer/researcher. Until the next brainstorm.....
I suspect this behavior is common, but I do wonder... I live in circles where most mommies are making sure their kids have the best, organic, greenest, freshest, local ingredients -- no processed food, nothing canned, frozen, or otherwise altered, converted, or refined. If you can’t pronounce it, it doesn’t belong in your child’s body. They have managed to raise discerning children who refuse Goldfish and love kale and spinach. My oldest never saw a Goldfish he didn’t like, and he would never munch on kale and spinach unless it were hidden in soup, brownies, or otherwise unrecognizable. (Yes, I have perfected a kick-ass spinach brownie recipe.)
I am endlessy concerned about the food my kids put in their mouths. I generally buy organic and/or local -- especially for fruits, vegetables, and meat. This is really very expensive. I am on a new food budget this year and right now I am running close to empty dollars for the next 8 days until a new month will finally liberate me. Being healthy and green is not cheap, and we are an upper middle-class family with lots of resources. How can the rest of America do it? I don’t like giving my kids processed food, but I don’t shun it either. I use it to keep the balance around here....when I am running late, when the kids need a quick bite after school, as a treat, and even when I just don’t feel like cooking.
I was appalled when I heard about Congress approving tomato sauce as vegetable, making pizza easier to serve as a side “vege” in school lunch. Is this a joke? Look, I love pizza, its tasty. I eat it, a lot; but it’s not a health food. I can make it healthier at home by choosing wheat flour, organic tomatoes, cheese from grass-fed cows; but this takes a lot of thought and even more money. I pack lunch for my school-aged son because school lunch, frankly, looks gross. It goes without saying that most of the items are not full of hearty goodness. I believe good nutrition is the baseline for healthy, focused, happy kids; so what is a concerned mommy on a limited budget to do?
I feel like I am always trying to keep up with the Eco-Jones’s and falling far behind. You know who you are. You have spring, summer, and winter vegetable crops in your back yard, raise chickens for eggs, buy food only from the local farmer’s market, make everything from scratch, (even the beer you drink,) compost all biodegradables, power on solar and/or geothermal, and top it off with a car that runs on vegetable grease. I revere you! You are my idols! I recently read an article about a no-waste family whose whole year of land-fill garbage fit in a 32oz. canning jar. Yikes! I can fill that in a minute! These folks do not buy anything that comes in a package. They bring their own sack cloths and jars with them to the store.....and I thought I was doing well by reusing my own recycled grocery bags to shop with, oh well.
Science tells us that nutrition affects behavior, personality, brain-power, attention, and focus. My husband thinks I should corner the market for an organic, slow-cooked, hearty “school lunch” business. Neat idea, but first I need to corner that market at home and figure out how to manage the “organically processed” Goldfish and Oreo-like cookies in my pantry. Maybe that business would go along with the cookbook I’ve thought about doing, something like: Cooking Together: Delicious and Healthy Meals Even Your Kids May Like ??? We’ll see how these brilliant schemes fit in with my dream to become an NPR writer/researcher. Until the next brainstorm.....
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Clean Slate
It is a new year, a natural time for transitions, new intentions, and an optimistic hope for the future...starting with a clean slate. Normally, I have a list of items in mind, the usual suspects: exercise, eat healthfully, and some variety of other lofty goals. I’ve thought about general financial/economic strategies for this year, but I just don’t care about this now. I am devastated by the news that a friend’s two and half year old son died in a tragic accident on New Years day. Gone. It’s not fair. It’s not right. The pain they are feeling is incomprehensible. My sadness cannot possibly reach the grief they are suffering right now. I hold their family in my heart. My love and support reach out to them. Their journey has changed but has not stopped; navigating through anger, fear, sorrow, resentment, and somehow....peace.
I am humbled. I can only think to hold my children tightly, be grateful for every day, love them and my husband even more. The only resolutions that make sense this year are to forgive, love, and live.
I am humbled. I can only think to hold my children tightly, be grateful for every day, love them and my husband even more. The only resolutions that make sense this year are to forgive, love, and live.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Hinjew Holiday
For the first time I’m tackling questions about our little nuclear family’s “religious” place in society. My children have been quite curious about “Christmas” this year. My three year old basks in the glow of the shimmering lights and beautiful decorations. Everywhere we go, I hear, “Mama! there’s Christmas!,” as he points to a sparkly tree in Target. My oldest, however, has been asking more pointed questions like: “Who is Jesus Christ?” and “Why doesn’t Santa give us presents?” My husband grew up Jewish, I grew up Hindu -- so what is our family of “Hinjews” to do?
As a child I went to temple and participated in Pujas (Hindu religious ceremonies); but I was never formally taught the basics of Hindu philosophy. There was no Sunday school, or initiation ceremony -- I am “born” a Hindu, religion is a social and cultural experience. My spiritual identity was complicated by the fact that I went to Catholic school between 3rd and 8th grade. It was there I learned my final destination was Hell, because I was not baptised a Christian. As a child, this struck me as simply ridiculous. I spent time in class pondering: “Why would God smite me if I were a good person?,” “What did it matter that we pray to Durga instead of Jesus Christ?,” “Shouldn't God accept every person if they are good, flaws in all?”
In answering some of my son’s questions, my husband explained the basic views Christians and Jews hold regarding Jesus, Santa,... and Christmas. NB quietly digested the information, but surprisingly didn’t follow-up with: “What do you believe?” We know these questions are coming and strive to teach our kids to be non-judgmental and accepting of all theologies. We mingle our scientific and philosophical views into our lives without preaching about any particular “best” or “right” way...even if it may be controversial. Sounds...reasonable, but it is missing something -- ritual.
The cultivation of ritual in our society is important because it helps people connect with each other. Through ritual, we become familiar with current cultural mores and social conduct. By using symbolic words, objects, or actions, we teach our children what is meaningful to us. In full disclosure, I should tell you that sometime around 2nd or 3rd grade, I begged my parents to get a Christmas tree. With that, our secular celebration of Christmas was born -- tree, lights, presents, and all. No religion, just ritual.
Witnessing all the Christmas cheer these past few weeks, I admit, I miss the pagentry of it. Christmas has inspired some of the best songs, movies, goodness, and charity in Americans -- raising money to fight famine in Africa, AIDS/cancer research, food for homelessness, and countless other charitable causes. Every time I hear Band Aid’s “Do they know it’s Christmas time at all,” I want to sing at top of my lungs,...embarrassing. There’s Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance,” McCartney’s “A Wonderful Christmas Time,” even “Let it Snow,” and “Santa’s coming to town” -- all versions make me smile. Who can forget the movie “It’s A Wonderful Life” -- reminding us that family and friends are the most important gifts of the season. Over time, Christmas has inspired the most giving for truly worthy causes. Of course other religions have charitable giving, but it just isn’t as well advertised.
So back to “ritual.” Most winter religious holidays revolve around the solstice, -- during the darkest days, celebrated with...“light.” Hanukah is symbolized by a candelabra, the menorah, celebrating a lighting miracle; when one night’s worth of oil lit candles for eight days. The Hindu Sankranti also historically took place on the Solstice. Overtime, however, the date shifted a bit over the years and is now celebrated on January 14th. Gifts are exchanged, sweets and other special food are consumed, and bonfires are lit on Sankranti eve, known as Lohari. It is believed that people who die on this day are very lucky because it ends their reincarnation cycle -- a path to spiritual enlightenment.
Although we will always continue to participate in our childhood religious traditions; I am considering new rituals for our family this year, borrowing from the worlds best. “Light” being elemental, primitive, and fundamental. Instead of trying to de-emphasize Christmas, I plan bring it into the fold -- in a minimalist sort of way. Candles lit for Hanukah, blue ornaments on our deconstructed, metal, modern “tree.” Singing songs, watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas, and exchanging a few gifts. The celebration will continue into January where I plan to light a fire in our fire pit to brings us luck in the New Year for Sankranti. The Hinjew holiday has begun! Happy New Year! I continue the journey in 2012.
As a child I went to temple and participated in Pujas (Hindu religious ceremonies); but I was never formally taught the basics of Hindu philosophy. There was no Sunday school, or initiation ceremony -- I am “born” a Hindu, religion is a social and cultural experience. My spiritual identity was complicated by the fact that I went to Catholic school between 3rd and 8th grade. It was there I learned my final destination was Hell, because I was not baptised a Christian. As a child, this struck me as simply ridiculous. I spent time in class pondering: “Why would God smite me if I were a good person?,” “What did it matter that we pray to Durga instead of Jesus Christ?,” “Shouldn't God accept every person if they are good, flaws in all?”
In answering some of my son’s questions, my husband explained the basic views Christians and Jews hold regarding Jesus, Santa,... and Christmas. NB quietly digested the information, but surprisingly didn’t follow-up with: “What do you believe?” We know these questions are coming and strive to teach our kids to be non-judgmental and accepting of all theologies. We mingle our scientific and philosophical views into our lives without preaching about any particular “best” or “right” way...even if it may be controversial. Sounds...reasonable, but it is missing something -- ritual.
The cultivation of ritual in our society is important because it helps people connect with each other. Through ritual, we become familiar with current cultural mores and social conduct. By using symbolic words, objects, or actions, we teach our children what is meaningful to us. In full disclosure, I should tell you that sometime around 2nd or 3rd grade, I begged my parents to get a Christmas tree. With that, our secular celebration of Christmas was born -- tree, lights, presents, and all. No religion, just ritual.
Witnessing all the Christmas cheer these past few weeks, I admit, I miss the pagentry of it. Christmas has inspired some of the best songs, movies, goodness, and charity in Americans -- raising money to fight famine in Africa, AIDS/cancer research, food for homelessness, and countless other charitable causes. Every time I hear Band Aid’s “Do they know it’s Christmas time at all,” I want to sing at top of my lungs,...embarrassing. There’s Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance,” McCartney’s “A Wonderful Christmas Time,” even “Let it Snow,” and “Santa’s coming to town” -- all versions make me smile. Who can forget the movie “It’s A Wonderful Life” -- reminding us that family and friends are the most important gifts of the season. Over time, Christmas has inspired the most giving for truly worthy causes. Of course other religions have charitable giving, but it just isn’t as well advertised.
So back to “ritual.” Most winter religious holidays revolve around the solstice, -- during the darkest days, celebrated with...“light.” Hanukah is symbolized by a candelabra, the menorah, celebrating a lighting miracle; when one night’s worth of oil lit candles for eight days. The Hindu Sankranti also historically took place on the Solstice. Overtime, however, the date shifted a bit over the years and is now celebrated on January 14th. Gifts are exchanged, sweets and other special food are consumed, and bonfires are lit on Sankranti eve, known as Lohari. It is believed that people who die on this day are very lucky because it ends their reincarnation cycle -- a path to spiritual enlightenment.
Although we will always continue to participate in our childhood religious traditions; I am considering new rituals for our family this year, borrowing from the worlds best. “Light” being elemental, primitive, and fundamental. Instead of trying to de-emphasize Christmas, I plan bring it into the fold -- in a minimalist sort of way. Candles lit for Hanukah, blue ornaments on our deconstructed, metal, modern “tree.” Singing songs, watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas, and exchanging a few gifts. The celebration will continue into January where I plan to light a fire in our fire pit to brings us luck in the New Year for Sankranti. The Hinjew holiday has begun! Happy New Year! I continue the journey in 2012.
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