vicariously through him

The subject matter is taekwondo. The best form of discipline for any student, but especially my student. An art that teaches the respectful use of the bodies strongest muscle, the brain. A class that sends my son's focus into new profound levels of intensity. A reminder to live life like a lion, be strong like a tree, and to never melt like a candle. The kick is round, side, and front. The punch is followed by a kiyah, and the stance is horse or jumbi. But today, the student's eyes wonder, as a new boy enters the room. The new kid is distracting, and not at all interested in respecting the teacher or it's brilliant students. He is running around the room and rolling all over the floor, telling the teacher "No", and "I'm tired". I am watching this little piece of distruction make havoc of this usually sharply orchestrated class, trying not to let the others see steam rising out of my head. He is disrupting the vibe of that which is taekwondo, nonetheless waisting my money as the teacher now focuses all of his energy on the rebel in the corner. Finally, it is my favorite part of class, judo sweep tournament has begun. My son is paired with four different students, gloriously defeating them all one by one. As each student drops to the mat with the sweep of my son's leg, they are picked back up by his helping hand to make sure that they are okay. The new kid now decides he would like a turn at this, as if he is at pre-school accepting a paint brush to now paint a picture. He foolishly wiggles over to my son, rolling his eyes with his tongue out, giggling like a joke. I'm not sure what's about to happen, but I know deep down inside what I would like the outcome to be. It is time for this kid to rule out child's play and practice respect. Time for him to get judo sweeped like lint on the floor and open his eyes to wax on, wax off. Instructor says, "Judo sweep, GO". And BAM. My son wraps his leg under his and sends the kids' body 3 feet into the air with a THUD for a landing. A quiet before the storm fills the air. I look far far away from the mother of this child. I am stoked my son is such a stud, with a kind heart. With no intentions of malicious defeat, my son is not boastful or proud. Just playing his role as a resilient student. Perhaps tomorrow the new kid will show up to class walking taller, showing respect to both teacher and student, interested in a new way of learning. Or perhaps not, and I will have to cruelly think of other ways he can be put into his place. (Ouch. Did I just make that thought public?)

knot comes loose

"Can't you see that I'm smiling?
Can't you see there's a part of me that 's brand new?
Used to be, was a part of me felt like hiding
but now it comes through.

Deep in my heart, that's where the knot comes loose.
Deep in my heart, I will remember you.

All my lovely life I've been waiting,
hot heels aniticipating.
Another love I found, not to let it down."

-Jim James

this blue house

I like the smell of my new town when I go out for a walk. Not too far up the road, past the first farm, sits fields of country calmly tucked away in the views of dusted mountains. The scents are different now, it's a whiff that brings me back to my childhood. From a small handful of visits to the stock show and to the barn where my mom took care of her cousins horses when I was a kid, I feel settled in the hearty smell of hay and horse droppings that shelter the meadows tucked behind old gates. On a cold, cloudy, and drizzling day, you can inhale the smell of bathed, oraganic, Earth as it steams off of the mud. There's something natural about being here. I am growing fond of this new place called home that gives me constant vibes of down to earth wholesomeness. Everyone deserves a piece of that...

consumed

When you look at a child, what do you see? If I am graced with such presence, the rest of the world and everything in view peacefully disappears and all I see is the innocent and mysterious life that stands in front of me. Being a mother has given me the gift of empathy. While I've always had a sensitive soul, more often than not I ponder that root. I've recently been reading a book about teaching tolerance to children about the world's differences as well as being empathetic to any child's background. But can empathy be taught? I definitely feel that a person is born with a leveled amount of compassion and empathy, but through life circumstances that trait either grows or fades. Empathy can come in many forms. It is silent by the way someone feels deep in thier heart. It is loud by the way someone acts and creates awareness through beliefs, that untimately, are driven by a persons true empathy. The more I dig deep, the more I realize that children are the true divine root of all empathy in the world. As children ourselves at one point in our lives, we were young and innocently blinded to the world's prejudice's. We were interested in people's differences whether it be color, shapes, or sizes. Curious in a way that demonstrated compassion and empathy. Unconditional love shined as little children, when we wanted to understand when someone was hurt or sad, and not judge them. A time when we wanted the whole Universe to be on our same page, and if they weren't, it was up to us to make them feel welcome, as if everyone belonged. I see it happen everyday. As I recently was given the amazing opportunity to teach, being an early educator has opened my eyes even more. As an example, the children don't see color as a form of labeling, but more as a fact and a trait to be recognized. When asked to color in thier traced hands on paper the color of their skin, they came up with genuine colors such as red, gray, and 'dark'. I think the best thing to take away from a child's view on the world is their freedom. The freedom and excuse to be curious and compassionate as young, empathetic, beings. Questioning everything, then on a quest to understand.

my story about Lucy

She was the backbone of all tradition in our family. Memories will never fade of walking up to her iron cast door when I was small, and entering a small house made to fit 8 filled with 30. The smell of tamles, green chile, and my favorite smell to this day, frijoles in the crockpot. All the women in the kitchen, elbow to elbow helping my Auntie pull dishes out of one of her ovens, setting tables and eating merrily in between to feed the hungry men and kids waiting in the dining room. When it was time to eat, it wasn't just a meal, it was an all night event. The dining room was a vision and smell I will never forget. A long table like the last supper, furry carpet, cabintes filled with glasses and fine china we never used. The buffet table showcasing all my Aunties hard days work was at least 12 feet long (at least in my childhood memory), with enough food to feed an army, or at least to last through night. To this day, one of my cherished treasures is a concept, not an item. The beauty of leaving the spread out all night long, to tastfully go back for more to sit down and eat again, stuffing myself with food and great consversations with my Auntie Lucy and Uncle Ernie. Even as a little girl, it's been in my blood to eat, a lot. When the Silva family came together with food, there was no messing around. It was the way to hand out love. Either in the form of bizcochos and cans of pepsi when you just stopped by, or huge plates of heavy sinful mexican delights oozing out of saran wrap on plastic plates to be re-visited later that night when we got home. Auntie never had judgement, always had love. The builder of family values and unconditional love in my heart. Like a mother of my father, and truly the host with the most. The parties and celebrations will live on forever. I strive to be just half of what an amazing family woman she was. I will continue to open my door with handouts of love and food, never to be put away. Rest in Peace Auntie Lucy. It breaks my heart to have been loved by someone like you, because your presence can never be replaced.

quote of the day

"Boys have a penis. Girls have a lasagna."

Oasis

He's 5, not 4 anymore.

He's tall enough to reach the sink,

He's able to understand love, I think.

He's everything I want to be,

presently engaged with the world at his fingertips.

Loved unconditionley by those he touches.

Emmeresed in life, questions unfold with each wonder.

He picks out his own shirts.

He's going to tie his own converse, determined at first.

He teaches me things about myself that runs deep,

He'll never know his effect on me.

Through his amazing chocolate eyes, life I see.

From the moment we met, I'd give my life for him.

As he grows into a little man I'll nudge him to stand on the limb,

To be the man his dad has been to me,

To be the way my dad constantly loves me.