On Friendship

Many questions that we were asked early on in our unschooling journey have now either stopped surfacing so much or have taken on a different form. But there is one which seems to fall into the permanent category, because it never seems to go away nor want to take another form :)

Yes, it is the question about social skills and friendship. One that I am kind of tired of answering, but still want to, because it has been one of the areas (the other one being food) that has completely changed my thinking and where my learning curve has been the steepest. And as is the case with everything else, my dear son has been my Guru. And I see this question as an opportunity for me to share what I have learned from him with others.

So here are some of the questions I have been asked countless times! -

Does he have friends?
Does he like to play with other children?
Does he miss being around other children? 
Do you have a community or a group that meets often?
You must be creating opportunities for him to meet other people and other children that would stimulate him...
and so many more that seem to have the same shade as these questions!

In the beginning, I did struggle with these questions, because I did not know what I was doing myself. But over the years, and with frequent, deep conversations with my son, where I simply shared all my fears and doubts without any holding back, my understanding and way of seeing this whole aspect of life has transformed. 

In some ways i think unschooling has worked for us beautifully because of the way the three of us are as people. My husband, my son and myself - all like our own company. Not that we don't like being with people. My husband loves meeting new people, while my son and me would much rather be home and invest our time and energy into nurturing few but deep friendships. But we have just stopped going out of our way to seek company.....simply because we love being by ourselves, with ourselves and we have come to trust Life to give us what we need at any given point in time.

So the need for being with other children was hardly ever there for my son, and when it came up, it was not a need that he wanted desperately to be fulfilled. The early years of our journey was all about 'nesting' - it was a time to de-stress ourselves from all the stress of having to conform to systems that we just could not be a part of; it was a time to simply be home and learn more about ourselves and each other without any other distractions; it was a time when we learned how beautiful and empowering it was to truly be alone with ourselves.

Of course, the fear of not having children to play with everyday or even once in a while was there, and it still keeps coming up, especially when I think of our age and what would happen when we are not around. But it doesn't worry me so much anymore. There is this deep trust that the Universe will take care somehow and that he will get what he needs. This is not a helpless resignation of sorts to destiny or a giving up of one's power to create. It is rather about owning our power by believing in what we are doing and the path we have chosen to take.

So whenever this fear came up, and even now, if it comes up, I just tell my son that I need to talk to him and share whatever I am going through in a way that I think he will understand. 'When in doubt, simply ask' - has been my motto of sorts. And it has helped immensely. A week ago, this fear came up again and I asked him how he was feeling about not being able to meet his old friends, about not having any friends and kids to play with where we stay now, whether he missed his friends or children, and what he would like me to do about it, or what he would like to do about it.

"Why do you keep asking me this question amma?" was the first thing he asked me. And so I told him why.

"I do miss my friends, but I don't want to go back to where we were staying, or even close by. I am happy where we are now. i love the place, the nature around; it is quiet, peaceful and there is so much more space around.....it's ok if I cannot meet them.....I am happy by myself. I don't need to play with children everyday. It is fine now the way it is," he added.

I was much relieved and said this to him:"So will you let me know when you want to do something about this? Maybe then we will find a way together....So I won't ask you this anymore? And you will tell me when you want to be with other children?"

"Yes. I will. Don't worry," he said nonchalantly.

A few days later, he expressed a desire to play Minecraft with someone. He wanted to play it 'live', and not online. So I did the best I could. I put out a request on the FB group for our gated community, asking if anyone would like to play or learn Minecraft or Lego. I got a response from the mother of a 3 year old girl. When I shared that with Raghav, he said:" Ya, that's fine! I can teach her. Age does not matter for friendship!" :)

How true! Don't we all have friends or people we relate to, of different ages in our circles? Then why do we want to make kids get into chicken coops when it comes to friends?

Why do we also have this manic need to 'make friends' and 'keep friends' at any cost?

Yes, we are social beings. But 'social' encompasses a whole range, a whole spectrum of needs doesn't it? We are not all social or sociable all the time. We go through phases and cycles in everything, including our friendships.

Then why do we see kids differently?
Do we think that is the only way we can allay our fears - of being different, of being alone?
Do we think friendships will make them feel good about themselves?
Do we think that will help them cope with boredom?
Do we think that will keep them occupied and less depressed or aloof?
Do we look at that as a way of us getting time for ourselves?
Is it our need or their need?
Why do we really want them to make friends?

I often feel that the answers to all our challenges and our fears lie in the questions themselves, if only we hold and stay with those questions long enough, instead of rushing in to 'sort' them out. All we need is that precious pause......

My tryst with working with kids and adults with special needs, especially autism, and knowing someone with autism, quite closely, including wondering initially if my son had any 'difficulties', has stirred up many questions. Hard questions that I asked myself repeatedly over the years. Yeah....it is funny that when we know that a kid has a 'special need' or a 'disability', we are immediately able to discount their behaviour towards us. We are immediately more accepting of them, more compassionate towards them. We at least pause for a moment and wonder why he/she might be doing or saying something. But we don't react the same way to kids who we think are 'normal'. What IS 'normal' anyway?

But we also have this idea of 'being sociable and social' so deeply ingrained in us I feel, that we want to 'fix' that in kids who aren't; we want to make them learn how to cope and adjust to the world, and so we 'expect' and 'teach' them social skills. Of course there may be some who want to interact but don't know how to, but there may also be some who simply don't want to, because they don't feel a need to. Are we really 'listening' to them? Each one of them? Are we giving them the space that they want and need, to be themselves? Sometimes I wonder if we do.

So yes, my son still screams when he is frustrated or has reached his threshold of tolerance for noise or something else, he will scream irrespective of who is or isn't around - at home, outside, anywhere;  he can look through people as if they did not exist at all, he can be so completely lost in his world that he wouldn't even remember to greet someone; and at the same time he can be most understanding and 'friendly' and be chatty with people - even complete strangers. When he needs some time by himself, or is tired, he shares that openly with his friends, and asks if they could play on their own for a while. Those who know him, understand him and give him that space. Those who don't, simply don't, and he is okay with that. And so are we.

Of course, we have had numerous conversations about how others would feel. He has himself asked me to remind him to greet or say 'thank you' to others only because they expect that. With some people, I explain to them the beauty of waiting for that to emerge on its own. With some others, we have mutually agreed to just 'please' them, as long as he feels okay about doing that in that moment.

We have stayed for extended periods of time alone with ourselves at home, hardly meeting anyone for months and years. In that period we have come to understand and love ourselves a little more. Now, when we get an opportunity to go out and be with or do things with people, we are more ready and willing to explore new ground, and feel more ease in doing that without any fears. This I think has been the fruit of our long, often challenging and arduous journey of being with our own selves.

Here are some things that I have learned from my son and our journey so far:

• I need to first be my own best friend. I need to love all parts of me. Then, it is easier for me to be friends with others and for others to be friends with me. Then, you are not dependent in an unhealthy way on people outside of yourself.
• If I am bored, I am bored. I don't need friends or 'stimulation' to fill up that boredom. I need to figure out for myself what I can do or not in that boredom.
• Be Yourself. Don't change yourself just because you want people to like you. When you are yourself, the right people will love the real you. Just be prepared to wait for them,however long it takes! 
• One needs to love oneself pretty well to be able to take 'unsociable' comments from others. And most often, the children who we think of as 'unsociable' are the ones who are mirroring what we need to look at more deeply in our own selves. I have gone through some extremely embarrassing moments when my son was 'rude', 'misbehaving' and most 'unsociable' - both in my own eyes and in the eyes of people around me. But those moments were the ones which told me how much more I needed to look within myself really, and ask myself some tough questions.
• We each need to be given space to be able to interact on our own terms. That is the basis of true friendship and understanding.
• Everything rests in the 'seeing' - how we choose to see what is playing out before our eyes. We can choose to see something as 'rude' and also see the same thing as an expression of someone's sensitivity to something. The way we see it moulds our response.

Yesterday, I was at the 30th anniversary function of Vidya Sagar, an organisation which works with children and adults with multiple disabilities and their families. While a few of us were chatting about old times, 30year old A, who was on the wheelchair, suddenly grabbed hold of another parent's saree and it tore. She adjusted it while this man's mother apologised for her son's behaviour. The parent however smiled, asked if he wanted her to come closer and talk to him, offered him something to eat which he refused, and then bent over and chatted with him. He was then fine. It was a beautiful, poignant moment of connection.

I feel deeply now that the way we choose to see a behaviour like this depends on the space we are in in that moment, and how we choose to see it. Can we share how we feel honestly and vulnerably, while also listening to ourselves in the other? What is that voice inside us saying? Why are we getting triggered or hurt? Perhaps if we stop and look more deeply into that space, we will know why and respond accordingly. Perhaps then we will be more inclusive, more accepting of our own selves and therefore the other. Perhaps then we will know the meaning of real friendship.

And I believe that our children are here showing us the way.....little lanterns lighting up the road less travelled....into a new world with countless, unimaginable possibilities that could be a far-cry from what we know today as 'friendship' or anything else for that matter.

Free to Be Myself

I am realising more and more each day that when I free myself, I free my son....or rather, when I feel free to be myself, I free my son to be himself too. Of late, all the things that have been happening in my life, only seem to be sending me this message : 'Say yes to yourself and life!' 

And so, I have been saying more 'yeses' to myself and to Life. To me, saying 'yes' is about opening up to the flow of Life.....to trust myself and Life and her ways....and that can happen only when I am comfortable with everything that I feel I am now. To know that everything in me is valuable and there for a reason. To look at myself with keen eyes, and be aware of all that's being revealed - all my feelings, judgements, failings, fears, all of it. And to free myself to 'be' like this, has been a challenging yet enriching little journey of a few weeks.

There has been a huge shift within me of late, and I am learning slowly to love more parts of myself, and so feeling more at ease with myself.....and I am somehow feeling that this is in some way being transmitted to my son too. I don't know how though. But how he is responding now to things and situations that have come up earlier, seem to be telling me just that.

About ten days ago, I attended a talk on de-schooling, which raked up some old and new questions related to community and what it means to me now. I wrote down some of those thoughts and questions, which I want to share in this post, as it seems so connected and relevant here:

Community is the ecosystem that helps me not only survive but also thrive.

And to know that what I feel is 'my community' today exists and thrives only because of all the communities that I am not a physical part of or feel I don't 'belong' to.

I feel a true sense of community only where I feel that I can 'belong' to myself....first.

Is any kind of family a community? Or is it something larger?
Do we have to define community in a particular way?
By defining what it is or not, are we narrowing our choices down, and limiting our possibilities?
What would community mean to an ant, a tusker, a polar bear, a bird?
What would community mean to a person with autism or certain sensitivities?
Is our need for community based on a deep fear of survival or a need for sharing and learning and loving?
What is it that a community gives me that I cannot find in or give to myself?
Is the community fulfilling a need in me that is rooted in a fear of something? 
Or is it a space where I simply give without expecting anything in return for what I have to offer?

My community until today has been in many ways just my family - me, my husband, Raghav, his grandparents and my sister and her family. These are the people I interact with the most or most often, and who I know will be there for me, no matter what. Of course there are some friends who I look up to as family (or more) in this way, but those interactions are mostly online. Even the homeschooling community I interact with is mostly online. So when people speak about community, all those questions come up, because somewhere I feel that their definition and reality is different from mine, and wonder if the 'community' that they speak of is truly inclusive, when they seem to have boxed it in with a definition that doesn't seem to really change or evolve.

For a large part of our unschooling journey, we have been by ourselves, with no real community of like-minded people around us for support or sharing learning or simply doing things together. Yes, there have been and are supportive neighbours and friends, and that was perhaps all that we needed. Raghav needed a safe nest - home - where he could rest his tired, battered soul perhaps (after his difficult years at school), where he could find himself again, and where he could love himself completely. And because that was what he needed to feel safe, we re-evaluated our needs, and put some of them on the back burner. We stopped calling people over, we stopped socializing with friends and family, we stopped going out except when we really needed to. They were some of the most challenging years, because it meant letting go of many of our needs and sticking very much to the four walls of our house, for days and months on end, with every outing becoming an ordeal, with an argument before almost every outing and extreme tiredness after each, with each outing stretching to hours, simply because Raghav would take forever to just get ready and move!

There were so many days when I felt I was going crazy. I felt lonely, completely disconnected, depressed, angry and even wondered if I had made the right choice in choosing unschooling. So many times we used force to get the simplest of things done - like going shopping, paying bills etc., and every time, it left us all with a bad after taste and so much negative energy. But we had to just stay with it all. Some of those things had to be done. There was no other way that we knew of. That was our path. Painful, thorny, but our own unique one, the gifts of which we are opening only today.

Every time someone spoke about 'community' and 'togetherness' and 'belonging', I cringed, I hurt, and felt like an outcast. Every time someone spoke of 'solitude' and 'aloneness' I felt good, because that was what I could resonate with. That was my reality because of the choices I had made. This whole idea of community (the way most people seemed to see it) seemed like an unreachable place for me....an Eden I could only dream of, if at all, but never be a part of. We had made an effort to be a part of different communities, but somehow never felt comfortable, because Raghav was rarely comfortable. And so then, we gave up making that effort. We then gave in to Life and her ways and found peace in that. We made our own little cozy nest, filling it with all the space that each of us needed to get more comfortable in our own skins.

There were many friends and family who told me and reminded me, that I had to make that effort, that I had to look after my needs, that I had to feel fulfilled if my son had to feel good about himself. So many words of advice, all well-meaning, but completely useless for me. For that path was not my path, not our path, at least then. I knew this deep down, but had no way of expressing it to anyone, including my own family. I guess people must have thought us to be the weirdest family around for digging up and getting into our own little rabbit hole :)

But those challenges brought us so many gifts that we would not have perhaps got otherwise. We took time to 'build' our nest, feel safe and at home in it, after years of distress and agony. We took time to understand ourselves and each other more intimately - our needs, our fears, sensitivities, etc. We saw the best and the worst versions of each other. We  learned to fight and love...to love it all! We learned what was essential to us and what was inconsequential. And much more.

And yes, we are opening some of those gifts even today. After years of being at home mostly and not attending any gatherings or events, I was telling Raghav about two events that were coming up this month - one was a talk that I wanted to attend at the organic store we go to every week (a place that he loves going to) and the other was a homeschoolers' gathering. I was quite surprised when Raghav agreed instantly to attend both! And what shocked me even more was that he on his own told me that he would go without his iPad!

So yes, we went for the talk on 'Transition Towns'. He sat in a corner and read the books he had carried with him, while I sat and listened to the talk. We were there for more than an hour, which was an achievement in itself for the first time. His feeling comfortable was infectious, or was it the other way around ? :) I wonder if I will ever know. But yes, for the first time, I was completely at ease too - inside, outside and with him in tow.

It was such a fulfilling little journey that I had been on with my son, the seeds of which were sown so many years ago, when we (my husband and I) decided to give him the space he needed to blossom and value his choices and needs, as they impacted our lives, as much as they impacted his.

A week later, was the second event - a local homeschoolers' gathering, which also he wanted to attend as much as I did. Again, he decided he would not take his iPad along. The only 'deal' we made was this - that he would tell me when he wanted to leave, and that we would leave soon after. He surprised me with many things that he did there, and I guess the surprise for me was simply because I was holding on to an image that I already had of him, based on my earlier experiences. :)

The group was already together and people were introducing themselves. Even kids joined in. I asked Raghav if he wanted to introduce himself. He nodded and watched the others. Soon after I introduced myself, he introduced himself: "I am Raghav and I am nine years old." What a huge moment that was for me! Then, as the discussion moved on to questions about homeschooling etc., he got himself a book, sat close to me and immersed himself in reading.  After a point, when he got tired of sitting in one place, he asked me to go out with him. 

We went out into the garden where some children were chatting and playing. He wanted to join in but did not know how. I supported him and made the first contact with the kids, asking them their names, what they were playing etc. Soon, he jumped in and they played 'catch' together. Then, he came up with an obstacle race, which he explained to another twelve year old boy, who became his friend for the evening. I learned so much from being with the two of them - how they listened to each other, how they saw what the other shared through their own eyes, how they disagreed with each other and took it in their stride, how they adapted the flow of the course so that both their needs were met and ideas taken and valued. 

And my role was to merely reflect one to the other! It was beautiful to be a mirror between two beautiful children! And my greatest learning from being with children off and on is the importance they give to the process rather than the outcome. Like here, it was not as important for them to get down to playing and doing the obstacle course, as it was to understand each other, listen to each other and value each others' points of view and ideas.

Then, we went back in to join the group, which was just getting into the groove of playing a small game called 'passing the clap'. It was fun! Someone started a clap, which was passed on in a circle, keeping to the rhythm and tempo, and then the clap was passed randomly to anyone in the circle. Raghav wanted to join in and made an effort to understand and play it. He was one of the few kids who joined in with the adults. And it was funny to see how every time it came to him, the tempo would change and slow down! :) There were calls to keep to the tempo, but it wouldn't work when it came to him! :) Perhaps that's why we have kids in our midst....to slow us down, to not take things for granted, to not get swept away by the crowd, to stay present and grounded and continue to be ourselves.....to be a part, and yet stand apart.....that for me is also what 'inclusion' is all about.

Soon, he wanted to leave, and I kept my promise by not tarrying to catch people's attention and say bye. We just got up and left, waving to the person who looked up at us. It was so beautiful and not contrived... and made me feel so much at ease. I hope the others felt the same way too, and if they didn't I hope they understood why we did that. And if they didn't understand still, well, that's just too bad! :)

As usual, on the way back, we got talking and I asked Raghav how he felt about being there.
"I loved being there....I made a new friend....I joined in the games...I liked those," he said.
"Why did you choose to come this time? Was it because I told you how much I wanted to go and you did not want me to feel bad?," I asked, sharing everything that was bubbling up inside.
"No....it was not because of that. I wanted to come this time. I myself felt that I was getting too much into the iPad and staying at home, and wanted to do something about it. That's why I came. That's why I didn't want to bring my iPad along," he added. 
I smiled quietly, enjoying the nakedness that was being displayed. There was no question of being 'honest' or 'open', because there was simply no other way to be for him. He was simply being himself.
"So what made you want to do this today, which you did not want to do earlier?" I prodded on.
"I am just more comfortable being myself...." was his prompt reply.

That said it all. Yes, the same was true for me. I was also more comfortable being myself....and yes, it has taken me just so many more years. But I guess it pays to be late, because with Life there is really nothing like 'late' or 'early'....everything just happens in its own time, in the best possible way for each one.

Here is a FB post that I shared later about how I felt after this gathering.....it sums up all that we've been through together and the joy that we are feeling just being ourselves....

I have 'waited without waiting'  (I don't know how to explain that waiting in any other way) for so many years now, for Raghav to 'want' to come with me for some gatherings, especially when it involves meeting people....and I am today basking in the joy that comes with that waiting...two trips in one week - one to attend a talk and the other to meet up with homeschoolers....it seems too good to be true!

It truly is a gift to watch a flower blooming slowly and surely, and that's how I feel about him today....it gives me goosebumps to think that I followed my heart and listened to my son, 'knowing' deeply that he needed this time and space (years actually and looong periods of not wanting to step out of the house at all), despite all the voices around me that questioned that and also became my own voice sometimes :) 

Also remembering a dear friend's sharing of a story, and the few hours I spent at a learning space in Bangalore, called 'Bhavya', where I learned the importance of giving time and space to children....not as much as what YOU think they need, but as much as THEY think they need. Grateful for those little-big lessons that Life brought me when I most needed it.

Today, on our way back home, when I asked Raghav as to what had made him 'want' to do this, he said: "I am just more comfortable being myself....and I myself felt that I was getting too much into the iPad and wanted to do something about it.....I enjoyed myself today....I made a new friend and met so many people."

Yes, this is HUGE for him and for us.....to want to step out of the house to meet people and to be okay to not take his 'best friend' (the iPad) along...of course, we could not stay for the whole time, and of course this may not happen every single time.....but it happened today, and that is all that matters, and I share my joy with all of you...

To see what we don't want to see....

We were just leaving to go home, after spending the whole day at my parents' place with my sister and little nephews. Raghav was packing all his stuff into his bags. My little nephew was trying to help him, and picked up Raghav's new Lego creation - a train that he had just finished building over two days. As he was carrying and moving it to the bag, it fell from his hand and parts of it came off. Raghav screamed - his eyes closed tight, his hands fisted, his teeth grit hard, his whole body taut with anger. My little nephew looked a bit rattled and upset as he clung to my father, hugging him tight while sitting on his lap. He didn't budge from there for the rest of the time that we were there.

Soon, there were more screams from Raghav (when Raghav screams, he really SCREAMS!!) as he picked up the pieces and figured out that one piece was actually broken. Six adults (each with their own thoughts), one bewildered little baby, one kid who was like a mini volcano erupting, and another little kid who seemed confused and upset.

Raghav ran away screaming into another room. I went with him. For the first time I think, Raghav allowed me to go near him and hold him. Usually he needs and would ask for his space (to be physically away) when he was going through some strong emotions. I held him and asked if he was feeling angry. "I am really really very angry!!!....with A!!", he screamed, bursting into tears. "That piece is broken.....it cannot be fixed! he should not hold it that way...he must carry it with two hands!", he cried.

I understood how he felt. This was a new set that we had got him for Christmas, after many many months. Both my nephew and Raghav had sat down to build with their new sets today. Raghav was heartbroken that the set he had wanted for so long, what he had waited to get and build for so long, was broken. It was a little piece that was broken. But it was not only a little piece.

My husband and I sat down to try and figure out with Raghav as to which piece had broken. Everyone else was around watching us.
My mother added: " What do you get out of screaming? Is it going to get fixed?"
Raghav replied vehemently, screaming even more:"I can't help it! I am angry!"
And I added quietly: "He is very angry and so wants to scream."

My husband picked up the train and examined it. Raghav showed him where it had broken. We realised that it could not be fixed, nor could it be stuck with strong glue, as that part would then become immobile. But the train could still move on tracks. My husband showed that to him. We suggested that he could remember to carry that part separately in his hand, every time he was carrying the train, so that it would not fall off again. Raghav agreed. He then tried to fix the other parts that had come off. But they weren't fixing properly as he was already very irritated. We heard a few more screams as he tried to fix them again and again. My husband suggested that he put everything in the bag as they were and go home and try and fix them, as he would be in a better space - calmer and less angry. "No, I won't be calmer!", Raghav screamed.

All he was looking for was for us to stay with him and his anger in that moment. He was not asking for it to be fixed or wished away. "I am very angry. Can you all just listen to that and accept that? Can you stop telling me how to make it go away?" Those were his words without words. I am not sure how many of us really 'listened' to that.

I looked at my nephew. I wanted to hug them both. But realised that both were not in a space to receive that. I asked him if he was trying to help Raghav, when he carried the train. He nodded and said yes. I turned to Raghav and shared with him how A was trying to help him, but that it probably slipped from his hand and fell. "That's not the way he should carry it", said Raghav. "I know, but A didn't know that," I added. And we left it at that.

Soon enough, he finished fixing the parts that he had been trying to fix through his anger, and was ready to leave. I went over to my little nephew, rubbed his back gently and whispered to him that Raghav was now very angry, but that he would probably be okay tomorrow. I told him we would meet tomorrow and we said our byes to leave to go home. My husband whispered to Raghav, asking if he would like to go and give A a hug and say something to him. Raghav shook his head vehemently, refusing to do that. We said bye to everyone and left quietly.

Later that night, just before getting ready to sleep, I asked Raghav how he was feeling.
"I feel better now. I am not angry," he said with a little smile.
I told him how I had spoken to my sister and that they were planning to come over to our place tomorrow.
"Ok....oh, then I have to remember to give those two red Lego pieces to A....his set doesn't have them, or he has lost them....I want to give two of mine to him, so he can finish off that car tomorrow. I have to help him finish that", he said. We both smiled, hugged each other and went to sleep.

So much had transpired in that little time. There was so much to learn for all of us. It wasn't about the children. It wasn't about what had happened. It was about a lot of other things....things to do with each of us and how we look at ourselves and our own thoughts and emotions. What was important to us? The process or the end? To sort things out and 'fix' them, or take things as they are, let things be and find their own levels in their own time?

This was my learning today....

Often we are so focused on the pattern we are creating or the stitches we are making, mostly focusing on trying to 'finish' the pattern or stitch, instead of watching how we are holding the cloth or needle, how we are moving it, and how it disappears into one hole and comes out through the other.

It is in these gaps between holes that the most important things happen.

Yet, we often forget this and get lost in how we can get down to 'bridging' the gap between the holes.

This is what we mostly do with all our interactions. We are often so focused on finding solutions and managing the situation, rather than staying with the emotions and our humanness. We get caught in the 'product' instead of the 'process'.

A knitter only appears to be knitting yarn. 

Also being knitted are winks, mischief, sighs, 

fragrant possibilities, wild dreams. 

~Dr. SunWolf

I also want to add here, the lovely piece about ANGER, written by the poet David Whyte. I feel that it is quite a misunderstood emotion and one that is often wished away by most people.....

ANGER

is the deepest form of compassion, for another, for the world, for the self, for a life, for the body, for a family and for all our ideals, all vulnerable and all, possibly about to be hurt. Stripped of physical imprisonment and violent reaction, anger is the purest form of care, the internal living flame of anger always illuminates what we belong to, what we wish to protect and what we are willing to hazard ourselves for. What we usually call anger is only what is left of its essence when it reaches the lost surface of our mind or our body’s incapacity to hold it, or the limits of our understanding. What we name as anger is actually only the incoherent physical incapacity to sustain this deep form of care in our outer daily life; the unwillingness to be large enough and generous enough to hold what we love helplessly in our bodies or our mind with the clarity and breadth of our whole being.

What we have named as anger on the surface is the violent outer response to our own inner powerlessness, a powerlessness connected to such a profound sense of rawness and care that it can find no proper outer body or identity or voice, or way of life to hold it. What we call anger is often simply the unwillingness to live the full measure of our fears or of our not knowing, in the face of our love for a wife, in the depth of our caring for a son, in our wanting the best, in the face of simply being alive and loving those with whom we live.

Our anger breaks to the surface most often through our feeling there is something profoundly wrong with this powerlessness and vulnerability; anger too often finds its voice strangely, through our incoherence and through our inability to speak, but anger in its pure state is the measure of the way we are implicated in the world and made vulnerable through love in all its specifics: a daughter, a house, a family, an enterprise, a land or a colleague. 

Anger turns to violence and violent speech when the mind refuses to countenance the vulnerability of the body in its love for all these outer things - we are often abused or have been abused by those who love us but have no vehicle to carry its understanding, who have no outer emblems of their inner care or even their own wanting to be wanted. Lacking any outer vehicle for the expression of this inner rawness they are simply overwhelmed by the elemental nature of love’s vulnerability. In their helplessness they turn their violence on the very people who are the outer representation of this inner lack of control.

But anger truly felt at its center is the essential living flame of being fully alive and fully here, it is a quality to be followed to its source, to be prized, to be tended, and an invitation to finding a way to bring that source fully into the world through making the mind clearer and more generous, the heart more compassionate and the body larger and strong enough to hold it. What we call anger on the surface only serves to define its true underlying quality by being a complete and absolute mirror-opposite of its true internal essence.

©2014 David Whyte
Excerpted from ‘ANGER’ From CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words

What I don't like in myself is what I don't like in others

Conversations from this morning....

R woke up wanting to build a surprise for me out of his Lego blocks - for Christmas. He has been building little things because Christmas is his favourite festival. A little later, he came out of his room with a Lego creation of a little Santa on a sleigh with presents, pulled by Rudolph. Then we got talking about presents.
Me: What do you think is the best present/gift you have got?
R: You, appa and myself.
Me: So why do you feel that this is the best gift?
R: I don't know....I love you both a lot....and I love myself....I know it sounds a bit weird to say that 'I love myself'....to hear me saying it about myself...
Me: Why do you feel it is weird? Do you think it is wrong to feel and say that you love yourself?
R: No. I don't feel it is wrong. I just love myself. But it sounds weird.
Me: Is there anything that you don't like about yourself?
R: No. I like everything.
Me: Is there anything that you don't like about other people?
R: Yes. There is one thing I can think of. I don't like people getting angry with me.
Me: Do you like yourself getting angry?
R: No.
Me: Why?
R: I don't know. It is because of the way it makes me feel inside....And with other people, like with my friends, what I don't like about them comes through experience....what happens when I am with them. So if I like them 100 percent in the beginning, then if something happens that I don't like, then it comes down by say 1%.
Me: Ok...so you don't like people getting angry with you....and you don't like yourself getting angry?
R: Yes....What I don't like in myself is what I don't like in others.

Minecraft - Enemies and Friends!

I love the long conversations we have every morning, as soon as Raghav wakes up, even if they mostly focus on Minecraft  these days, about which I know very little! That time is precious, as of late it has been the only time in the day when Raghav gives me his complete attention and is away from the iPad, besides ofcourse the time we go cycling. And so, it is almost like a morning song for me. I love listening to his words with their characteristic cadence, his recent switch from a predominantly British accent to the new sing-song American accent, words rolling like marbles over his tongue, and his inimitable expressions that accompany them. I wouldn't want to exchange this time for anything else in the world! :)

A few days ago, Raghav and I were in the midst of one such morning conversation, that sometimes can last for more than an hour. He was wanting me to learn some of the characters in Minecraft (creepers, endermen, ghasts, zombies, etc.), what they do, how they can be destroyed and so on. He was explaining to me why they were enemies and how one could tame them and make them one's friends, so that they would help you against other enemies. It sounded interesting and I was all ears!

Here is what he said:

"Amma, they are your enemies, but you can tame them. To tame them, you have to destroy them or kill them first. Then, they will leave something behind, which you can take and use to tame them and make them your friends....and what they drop or leave behind is what is precious to them and they use to attack you sometimes...so if you pick that up when they get destroyed, and right click on that, you will see lot of hearts coming out, which means that you start loving them, and then they will become your minion and help you....so even though they were your enemies, you can make them your friends by loving them and by using their weapon to make them your friend."

What a wonderful life lesson learned through play! Yes, ultimately love is the only emotion that has the power to break a heart open to love isn't it?

I thought you were his sister!

Raghav and I were down today as usual, in the evening, to cycle round the block. It is a routine that both of us like now and have gotten into. We usually do a few rounds together, and then when Raghav needs a little break, I do some more while he times me. Then he does a few while I time him, after which I do a few more alone, and then we finish off together with a few more. Raghav loves this routine as it was created by him. And I love it because I am enjoying cycling after many years, and it nourishes my body, mind and soul with some happy hormones!

We had just done a couple of rounds, when a little boy on his cycle stopped me with his question.
"Excuse me....where are you going? Are you going to the park?", he asked me, with an endearing smile.
I smiled back, stopped in my track, and said," No....I am going cycling this way", and pointed the other way.
Raghav had meanwhile made a U turn and came back to see where I was. This little boy immediately asked if Raghav would come and play with him in the park. Raghav promised to play tomorrow with him.
I gently steered the conversation, asking him his name, and if he would like to cycle with us.
He immediately beamed and turned around to join us.

After the next round, Raghav wanted to take a break, and this little boy said he would wait with him. They got talking while I went on cycling. Suddenly, he ran up to me and said he wanted to race with me, and so we raced one round. As we were finishing and he was celebrating winning the race, I yelled out to him saying I was continuing my rounds of cycling. "Cheating! You're cheating!", he yelled back. I had no clue why he thought I was cheating, and smiled and rode on. He joined a little later and we went one more round. In the middle, he wanted to stop for a little break as he was tired. So we stopped. He asked me for the time, and when he realised that I had no watch on, he decided that it must be late, and told me he was going home. I waved and we decided to meet again tomorrow.

I finished my few rounds of cycling and joined Raghav, to find that there was a water bottle and a bag in Raghav's cycle basket. It belonged to that little boy. He had asked Raghav if he could leave it there and had forgotten. We only knew the name of the block that he lived in, not his flat number. So we decided to wait and see if he would come back in search of the bottle. He promptly did.

And we got talking a bit. We asked him (obviously) for his flat number. He promptly asked for mine and I told him. He then asked for Raghav's, and he told him.
"Oh! So you both live in the same flat?!"
"Yes, I am his mother!", I softly added.
His eyes opened wide and he beamed and said, "Oh! What? Mother??!"
He almost fell backwards in surprise and shock.
"What did you think?", I asked back.
" I thought you were ....what do I say?...his sister or something!", he exclaimed.
"How old are you then?", he asked.
When I told him my age, he almost fainted!
"My God! So old?!", he gasped.
And we all laughed! :)

This little boy made my day.

I realise that it does pay sometimes to go out and play with your kids like a kid. You make more friends who are young at heart and young in body :) And who also make you feel the same way! :)

Fun with Friends!

After many many months, Raghav spent a day each with two of his long-time friends, who came over. One of them is from the apartment complex we used to live in. The other is the son of a good friend of mine. He has known both of them for some years now.

It was interesting to watch how he played differently with both his friends. With J, he had absolutely no difficulties and arguments. There was complete understanding and acceptance from both sides. There was a trust that filled the spaces between them, and that was evident in the manner in which they played. Raghav was actually able to play with J for most parts of the day.

With A, it seemed more like parallel play. They were both in the same physical space, and interacting by talking and sharing, but each was doing his own thing! And when they decided to play something together, they needed me to play with them and be the go-between.

However, both friends were oodles of fun.....there was laughter, shouting, crying, screaming, jumping, running, quiet time and so much more that filled the house to the brim :)

There was Lego, Pictureka, Pictionary, car racing, pretend play with Lego and the Lego Movie characters (with detailed dialogues and sound effects), doing things on the iPad, playing with remote cars in the parking lot, chatting over lunch, playing outdoors and so much more!

Here are some photos of his fun times with both his friends!

Fun with Friends!

Two days with Raghav and his two friends was enough time for me to get more grounded in my trust in my son and in Life. Here is what I learned from this experience:

Children learn skills that they need, when they are ready and are inspired to learn them.

 Raghav got ready early on his own, to go and get his friend, who lives quite far away from where we are. They haven't met ever since we moved to our new place. He was all excited and so was his friend J, who also got ready early and even called me to check if Raghav had left to pick him up :)....the joy of sweet anticipation! Getting ready early in the morning and leaving the house on time, without arguments and delays is quite unheard of in Raghav's life :)

Raghav had already made some plans as to what to play with him. He put his two remote control cars on charge, and set an alarm to help him remember when to turn them off. He built a few things from the Lego Movie with his Lego, to play with his friend, and thought of other things he could do. It was pleasantly surprising to see him plan and organize his space and time, all on his own. I am convinced that these skills just come when they have to, all on their own, when they are ready for them. We don't need to do anything really, except watch and enjoy the slow unfolding, with wonder and joy.

  

When children are given the space to be themselves, they know what they need and how to set boundaries. 

Both his friends go to school, and so could come over only during their summer break. But Raghav was very clear that he could not manage to have both of them over on the same day to play. "After I play with J for one whole day, I need my space....I need one full day to myself before A can come over amma!", he said with certainty. I was amazed at the clarity he had of himself, his needs and his boundaries - something that I struggle with even today. 

When you are your best friend, you don't need to look outside of you all the time, to make new friends.

 

When you really need friends, your deep desire will get the universe to conspire and make it happen. You can wait in peace, for as long as it takes, until you are able to meet with the friends you hit it off with. And, more importantly, you do not always depend on another to fulfill your need for love and belonging.

When you love yourself enough, you are full, and also find ways to love everyone you meet.

Whenever I asked Raghav if he would like to make new friends in our new house, or if he needed help to make friends, he would dismiss it off with : "Amma, I don't need any new friends. I have my two or three friends, and they are enough. I can wait to play with them, even if I have to wait a long time." That said it all :) This time he had waited for almost 8 months. 

Enjoy the experience and the experiencing, and don't constantly seek (new) experiences just to feel good.

 

So Raghav can wait for months on end to play with his friends, and is okay with that, simply because I think he "fills" himself up with the experience and the "experiencing" of the experience, when it happens. He lives each of those moments fully; he feels the joy, excitement and the pain and sadness completely; and that "fullness" fills him up, until the next time. 

Children are inclusive by nature, as long as we get out of the way. 

J and Raghav have a perfect understanding. Raghav can play for a while, but then after that, he usually needs some space and time for himself. J understands that and chooses to play on his own for a while, with no further explanations needed. It was beautiful to watch them weave in time together and alone, through the day, almost like a little dance, with perfect understanding! This time around, Raghav made an effort to think about J and what he could play with, when he wanted his own quiet time. Whenever Raghav eats, he needs to watch something on the iPad. J knew that from earlier. He sat and ate next to Raghav, without asking Raghav once about it....there was a complete acceptance as they sat and ate together, yet alone! When J got bored of playing with something, Raghav was ready this time to try playing something else that both of them could enjoy. That was a huge first for him!   

When one is hungry, one just eats. It is we adults who attach emotions to even a simple task like eating. When his other friend A was hungry, he asked Raghav if he was going to have lunch. When Raghav told him that he had eaten breakfast late, and that he was not yet hungry, A said okay, and just sat down and ate by himself, while chatting with me and enlightening me about various birds over lunch :) Life is simple, until we get down to complicating it! 

Children who have had the space to be themselves and accepted with all their emotions, are able to give others space and accept their emotions. 

Don't assume anything with children, because you never know what's going on in their minds, until they tell you!

 

Raghav had been into playing board games over the last month, and so, when A and he were stuck with not knowing what to play after a while, we sat down and made a list of possible things to do. I suggested the car racing game, as I felt Raghav was okay now about winning or losing, as he had actually "helped" me win once and catch up, by flexing the rules, when the three of us played it. 

When A heard about the car racing game, he got all excited and wanted to play it with Raghav and me. After much coaxing, Raghav agreed to play. There was a time when A was unlucky and kept picking cards that asked him to miss a turn. Raghav promptly felt that was not fair, and got him to pick up a fresh card, until it was something that he could do. Everything was going on well, until A said something and pretended to move Raghav's car way behind, jokingly. Raghav got very upset and angry immediately and went off in a huff, screaming and crying and expressing his extreme displeasure. A watched him go and asked me if Raghav was angry. I said yes and went on to tell him to ask Raghav what had made him angry. When he went in, Raghav screamed to us to leave him alone. A immediately walked away from the room and told me :" I think he wants to be left alone. I think he is very angry. I think if we let him be for some time, he will feel better and then come on his own." I was moved by the ease with which he accepted Raghav for who he was. 

Later, after things settled down, Raghav came out and expressed how he had felt because of what A had done. A said that he was playing and that he would not do that again. They continued the game. All was well until A won the race and the game. Raghav could not take that and was in tears. He went away to be by himself again. Later, he told me that he could accept me or my husband winning, but not his friend or someone else who is not a part of our family. 

I realised then that one could not assume things with children (or with anyone for that matter). I had assumed, because of what had transpired over the last few weeks, that Raghav was now okay with winning and losing, when he was not. Not yet. Not completely. These generalisations happen in their own time. They cannot be forced or made to happen.