Urban Organica

presence for my painter

  I watch this littlest one pulling out his daily "supplies:" an oilcloth, waterglass, rags, paints, brushes & sponges.  He requests water, new rags, glue, paper, blocks.  If we're too busy, he finds his own mediums & I can count on a new set of acrylic-stained clothes, which is fine, since this is what he does.  He's a painter.  Apparently.  I gave him an apron, & he painted it.  He's 2, & he has a vocation!  Okay, it's not all that deep.  But the point is, I see that he loves it.

And I think, someone who already knows what he loves doesn't need any presents. 

Because I hail from Filipinos, People of the Cheesy Word-Play-Joke, my next thought is, What he may need, what we all may need, is Presence. 

So, here then is my list of things we can make or find that will presence his love, on-goingly:

-Recycled jam jars for water glasses.  A set of 6 with different colored yarn bows will look just lovely.

-Stacks of rags in interesting materials.  The boys can cut their old shirts & jeans with pinking shears & tie them up with ribbon.

-Old blocks in a basket with a tag that says, "for painting"

-A cloth-covered cardboard box packed with old frames, squares of cardboard, felt & stiff cloth to paint.

-Brushes from mama's supply.

-A totebag with a plastic tub nestled into the bottom, for painting-to-go.

-Another apron, or two.

-A little painting cloth.  The oilcloths are my personal favorite floor-protectant, but I can't help but wish they were padded for those sweet little knees of his.  Maybe I'll just take what we have & layer them with a bit of cloth & batting.

If he's called to the painting shelf, then we're going to load up that painting shelf.  Because it may be a vocation, at the end of the day.  Bliss is bliss.

going forward...

tool, Patuxet Village, Plimouth Plantation

It's time to head forward to school.  Yes, school.  Sure we could go back, since we were there,  March-through-June.  Going "back to school" is exciting, an adventure into the daily faces of friends & beloved teachers, a chance to tackle new & interesting material.  That happens, & would be the case for us.  

As life-learners, we are looking at this Fall as a totally new experience, & it is.  We've never done something like this, walked into a class of kids a bit older, but still all about the same age with the same general developmental needs.  It's interesting!  And I think each Fall will be new, with new faces on the same people, new interests, new capacities.  Let us always go forward, why don't we.

Are we still homeschoolers?  Yeah, we are.  We call it the "long class" each morning.  We still belong to our local homeschooling bookclub, though it takes place during "school hours."  We will faithfully continue our "family curriculum" of cooking, marketing, growing, making, finding, drawing, tasting, discovering, dancing, assembling, dismantling, field-tripping, music-making & whatever else falls our way. 

And the Waldorf curriculum is one of those things.  I had always intended on homeschooling the boys when they were older.  When our oldest was one,  I found our local Waldorf school during a year-long Early Childhood Training at Rudolf Steiner College.  We fell in love with it & with the Early Childhood teacher.  Not so much with the kindergarten & now we have found a great 3rd-grade community.  The teacher also has three boys, is a farmer & a nurse, & she homebirthed & homeschooled, as well.  So we have much in common, & she's an elder I can learn from.  And learning is the commitment for us.  That, & surrounding our children with people who have diverse values - but values that support life.

 leather "lacrosse" for catching on sticks

There's been issues, nothing to go back about.  Like hyper-competitive parents.  Bullying.  Kids thinking they can only play with one age, or only one gender.  But these are not issues in the grand scheme of things.  I'm so grateful that every moment is a chance to move forward towards more connections.

 
 beautiful 

 "score!"

 

*****

Speaking of making connections...

This village, Patuxet, is one of the first Native villages where no one made it, due to diseases introduced by colonists.  I have so many questions I want to ask some of the folks I saw there, but they are  personal ones, & we are advised not to ask those.  But coming from a colonized culture myself, & a community of community servants, I'm so curious: "Do you consider yourself an activist?" "Does being here during the day shift how you live at home?"  "How do you feel about the colonists given that you work in partnership with the recreated colonial village?"

But we aren't to ask questions like, "What percentage Native are you?"  I understand that.  Although people ask me that kind of question at least once a month.

We can't go backwards, & a part of me wants to.  Everything there is a great reminder of the possibility- the past, present & future great possibility of letting our product - what we make - be the wellbeing of our communities.  Imagine.  More chances to forward connections.

(The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight has wonderful ideas on how to integrate the past & the present in a way that supports our global home & community.)

Moving on...

 

 longhouse

 dolls, canoe, games

 burned-out canoe, paddles, fish-drying station

 grinding maize

 an elder messing with the kids & showing off her bear

 inside a longhouse

women-made mats as walls

!! help !!

I am trapped in a life full of boys & men. 

They are, individually, perfect.  Nothing wrong there.  However.  I am not handling it well lately.

I do not know what I am doing.  In case I've misled you.  There are so many good days.  Miracle moments are a frequent event.  And I am emotional. I cry easily.  Which makes them think I am devastated.  I look to connect, which makes them think I am invasive.  I pad my home with soft things to keep them comfy & safe.  They respond with backflips & leaps from the window sill. 

Because men have opinions, based on their calculations + their thoughts.  This is also known as preferences.  And in their logical minds, it is very appropriate to empower others with this information. They want to me to be happy & to fulfill on my intention to please.  They trust me to handle whatever they have to say with unconditional love & acceptance.  It's sweet of them, really.  

But...Do daughters do this?   We appreciate a graciousness environment.  Women come to the table with their feelings.  And, as a female, I happen to know that feelings are important to acknowledge, not to be taken as law.  It doesn't seem to be the same with preferences. 

I am inundated with preferences in 4 sizes.  I am looking for a mantra to repeat while I live with this ever-so-temporary-phenomena.  Not the preferences.  The current state of my brain. 

Serve.  Stop.  Listen.  Oh.  Hmm.  I see.  You want what?  How about thank you?   I just...  Okay.  Hmm.  Well why don't you...  Because you can...  I tell you what...  Well.  Tell me what... No scratch that.  Let me tell you what...   Smile. (Not for them.  For me.)  Now. What.  Was I Going to Tell Me?

I'll let you know when I sort it out.

Candy Math

Oh, darn!  I've been told I HAVE to remove the picture of the homemade candy store + inventory graph.  Apparently, it's private.  Of course.

There seems to be no end to the sugar-inspired moments around here.  From toddlers sneaking up on the counter to Candy Land, I think they've caught the sugarbug.  Oh, how I long for the days before that first Pinata.  But I am for sure the model for all this, because although the Great Pumpkin came & traded their sweets for "Newer, Favorit-er Candies," I have hidden myself a hefty stash of Twix, Reese's, & Kit Kats.  Let's just call that, "Confessions of a full-out-mama."  I am consuming no less than 7 pieces a day.

Meanwhile we have a "candy shop," inspired by both Pippi Longstocking's shopping spree & Wonka's factory.  (They are begging me to take them to the C&H Sugar Factory.)  The shop is selling a mix of boy-made treats consisting of coffee-filter bon-bons, Wonka Bars & my favorite, turtle-fabric-covered "turtles," as well as family favorites like Organic Lollipops, Sunspire Chocolate-Covered Sun Seeds, Fair Trade Dark Chocolate Bits, PEELU Dental Gum & Bach Rescue Remedy Pastilles.  I have no shame in the natural foods department, obviously.  But it goes like this.   

Free steals 5 little cocoa bars from his up-high basket.  I catch him & hand him a glass of water & suggest a piece of dental gum.  Within 10 minutes he starts a screaming tug-o-war with his little brother. I offer them both a Rescue Remedy aka, "Medicine Takes," as they call them.  Peace ensues.   They ask for more candy & I direct them to True, who is selling safer candies on the stairwell.  He divies up the treats, charges them for their goods & takes inventory on his mandatory graph.  Every once in a while someone finds a hidden Sunspire "M&M" in those play candies, at which point everyone jumps around singing, "I've got a golden ticket! dadadadadada-dah!"

cloth produce bags :: how-to

A pile of fat quarters = overjoyed grocery cart

Hardly a tutorial, this is Free & True's straight-stitch practice.  And Real's yes-you-can-stay-in-my-lap-don't touch-the-machine-practice.  It bothers me each & every time I touch a plastic bag.  So, no more!  This is the most addictive instant-gratification sewing project we've ever done.  Oh, & who am I kidding about the "no-defined-instructions-thing?"  I trust everyone to make things how they want them...

Cloth Produce Bags

For each bag, take one fat quarter.  Fold in half.  If you fold it length-wise, you get a baguette bag, or something for your celery or those giant zuccs in your yard.  If you fold it width-wise, than you get your standard produce/bulk foods bag.  Using a 1/2" seam allowance, stitch down the open side & along the bottom.  Make sure to back stitch well at the beginning & end.  Turn inside-out.  Walla! I like to leave the frayed top, but you could also hem it or place the selvedge there.   

chuck to shuck

There is one thing we are up to above all.  Being "time-rich."  No more working for work's sake or money or status or obligation.  Chucking the old so we can really celebrate.  Every second.  Organizing our lives, our values & our priorities to be together, to move slowly.  To have choice in the moment.  Because it's still possible to prep supper with the neighbors, outside.

To take the time to dress appropriately for dinner.  To learn such skills from a master & to laugh at the sticky/beautiful/oh-so-interesting corn silk.

To enjoy the cocktail hour.  To be surprised by your guests.  To experience generosity.

To squish together for an adventure.  To be a family of families.  To borrow each other's space without boundaries or pride.

To be shiny, happy & alive.  To be safely scared & to scream & to encourage madly, right out loud.

To sing "taps" as the sun sets, with hand motions & everything.  To hear the loon's slightly insane call.  To feel a full day's accomplishments, frustrations, love, sadness & wear melt into a quiet hope.

To enjoy cooking sans gadgets.  With 10 year-old clothespins & century-old saucepans.  To smell the food as it simmers over the course of an hour, or three.

To go to sleep after an honest-to-goodness spontaneous recital.  Or many.  One night after the next, each musician, each instrument in turn.

Being "time*rich" means being there for our lives.  Oh, how much life  I've missed for so many silly reasons! The world has slowed down, it's had to.  I'm part of the movement, of those catching our breaths, slowing the cycles of buying & accumulating while deferring our best hopes for ourselves.  Some of us are looking anew, letting go of our old dreams, goals & wants.  Seeing what's here.  Feeling grateful.

Will you join us?  Please email me!  Love, Thyme

to make a damsel fly

Happy Birthday Nay!

Thank you for always being up to something ~ many things.  Things that are interesting & exciting, that will make a difference for people & add beauty to our world.

Thank you for my life.  For My Brothers who are so Perfect & Amazing.  For being the Lola that the boys talk to & share with every single night in their sleeps.  For all of it.  

For always telling us that 

"'We were made in God's image' doesn't mean 'we have 2 hands, 2 eyes, 2 ears & a nose.'  It means you have a head of your own, can think your own thoughts & make your own decisions."

Thank you for reminding me that to think & grow is a divine act.  That it's good to change our minds & our actions.  It's important to question.  For being such a whole example of a woman, a community leader, an entrepreneur, a wife, a working mother, a healer, a gardner, a chef & an artist.

It would be a lot to live up to, but you never made that an option I'd have to deal with.  You always made sure to let us be ourselves, trying out systems & abandoning anything that was irrelevant.  

Thank you for making sure we were always loved, that we always knew it.  We do know it.  It's in our every cell.  I love you.  Me

cornhole vs organic family life

I am under a lot of pressure.  I know it doesn't look like it.  But it's true.  May I answer a couple of questions here?  (This has to do with the fact that there have been 7 NFL or college coaches & their wives on this island, 2 of them in my family.  I'll explain more in a minute). 

This island is obsessed with cornhole.  Cornhole.  On the dock.  In the woods.  Grown adults, college students, kids, toddlers, interior designers.  All throwing tube socks, filled with corn, into little holes.  Morning, noon & night.  It is very, very competitive.  Folks sit at the dining room table with their beers, dental floss, sewing needles & Sharpies, stitching regulation-approved bean bags. Really.  We mark them, Red.  Blue.  These bean bags have uniform colors.

The only person who can keep score is my truly brainiac brother-in-law, one of the aforementioned coaches.  The other ones sit at the sidelines, using their famous chicken-scratch to take field notes.  Hilariously, he's really the only one genius enough & confident enough to know the score at any given moment.  But I swear the rules change with the amount of alcohol consumed. 

With Dad & Grandpa watching this closely, my little guy takes on these bean bags with utmost reverence.

It is a metaphor for the over-all sense of competition here.  They compete in their sleep, gently, roughly, lovingly, seriously & lightly.  They do it with nudges, pushes, yelling, whispering, under their breath, as they give hugs & as they serve dinner.  It's great fun, because they are all deeply loving & encouraging, as well.

I love cornhole.  And I am non-competitive.  I'm no good at it.  I always end up jumping up & down, clapping & cheering on the others.  Even when I make the finals & lose at the last second.  I'm happy for them.   I can't get into it when folks are crushed over a loss.  Furious about a mistake.  Devastated over a game.  Winning or losing never affected my family paycheck, the mood in my home or where we moved next.  I try to be as compassionate as I can.  And I'm always ready to party when we win.

I've been asked a few questions up here in several different ways.

 Let me just answer...

~We are California natives.  We live in a community where "organic living" comes easy.  It is first nature & everything from the bikepaths to the grocery stores to the rec pool support our lifestyle.  Where we live, it is not extreme, far-fetched or difficult for our marriage.

~I birthed my babies at home, one with an MD who was equal partners with his midwives & 2 with midwives of over 30 years.  At all 3 births, those attendants were totally hands-off (with the exception of back rubs & loving words).  2 were born in the water & swam the first moments they were born.  One was born in my studio.  I worked, studied & visualized like an athlete before hand to have those births.  They were co-created with my boys, who were full participants in their births. 

~I am clear we are very lucky to have had those births.  There are folks we love who were even more intentional about their births. Mostly they went as planned, & sometimes they did not.  And they were the right births for those children, with meaning & gifts that showed up later.  

~I have been nursing or pregnant for over 8 years, with a break of 11 months.  I wear them constantly for the first 6 months. It helps me to know what their needs are & how they communicate, it let's them practice being resourceful & trusting the world, as I am their main resource then.  I tandem nursed the younger two.  I admit, it's difficult. I recommend that if it feels right.  But I hold that time in my heart, & those boys hold it in their smile & their swagger.  

~They have their own room, their own beds they use & they have a forever spot in our bed. 

~We are 100% organic in our home, from our mascara to our risotto.  And when we eat out, or with others, we are not.  Our chemical-free lifestyle is part of our healthcare.  

~We are clear that the vaccine decision is 12 different decisions.  That every parent needs to do their own research & come to their own right choice.  We are very informed on this subject, from what they are made of to the statistical, unbiased differences in the perceived dangers of aluminum vs. mercury.    That those who believe parents who opt out of certain vaccinations are "leaches," might first understand the history & purpose of each shot to make sure they are consistent & up-to-date with theirs, as well!  Our specific choices for each vaccine are personal, but let's just say that we nurse long enough & have our children home enough that most vaccines do not even apply to us from both a personal health & the public health perspective, according to the American Medical Association!!  www.thevaccinebook.com

~My son is a vegetarian/pescatarian.  D & Free eat organic, free-range, grass-fed bison & beef.  I eat organic, free-range chicken.  And we actually pray for "animal angels," bred or harvested specifically to help nourish our bodies & planet.  We did this after a decade as vegetarians.  We are a gluten-free family.  Are diets will shift as we shift.

~We are project-based "life-learners."  I was a homeschooler.  That feels healthy & right to me. The problems I have are problems that arise out of my larger commitments.  Worthwhile problems.  I start everything from the idea that any resource is available, any skill can be acquired.  We want this for our kids.  We support public schools & are part of a public charter created for homeschoolers.  They pay us to homeschool.

~We bike everywhere as our main source of transportation.  Our whole town does.

~I identify as a Filipino-American.  I am Pinay, I come from a huge & amazing tribe.  We belong to a culture based in an entirely different country, with 7,007 islands of it's own.

Whew!  

That's a long list of answers up there.  I don't walk around with a list or use my lifestyle as an ongoing conversation topic.  I expect differences.  However, I'm expected to use those differences to compete. On my sensitive soul, it often feels like I'm being asked to explain myself.  So.  This is my explanation. 

I have made examined choices.  I hope everyone does.  I feel empowered in those choices.  They are not better than anyone else's, & I may change my mind.  I can't compare my mothering, marriage or eating to others.   The rest is spilled milk.

heaven is how you speak it

Sometimes there's a perfect tree in the scrappiest neighborhood.  We went to Union City for some real-deal Filipino breakfast & There It Was: 

Overgrown.  Perfectly balanced.  Alive, vital, with creamy apple-blossom sprays & pomegranate-pink buds.  It's trunk split into an open palm, "come on.  climb me.  i'll hold you." 

I am one of those people who is totally moved by this kinda thing.

Because I really believe that it's all here.  The magic.  The perfect.  The divine.  It's all here, it's not hiding, but very-much-in-between the cups of coffee & the waiting rooms & the lists.  And we ignore it most of the time.  Spirit is right here & for some reason we act like it's not worth gasping over.  But it is.  Things like this tree are shocking.

I want it to be shocking for my children, too.

What if we were all caught off guard by such simple perfection?  Would we all be rolling on the ground, laughing & overjoyed at being alive?

Even with all the scarcity & the fear, the dread & the pain that's out there, Earth is still in full-tilt production. I look.  More seeds than can ever be planted.  More blossoms than can ever smelled.  More branches than can ever be climbed.  More.  More.  More.  The natural state of all things is one of abundance.

The nature of Spirit is not one of recession, economic stimulus, hard breaks, luck, loss, tough times, being isolated, figuring, strategizing & financial tragedy.  Those are things that people talk about, & when enough of us talk about them, they become (nearly irrevocably) real.

We may be out of balance.  But we may also be just standing on top of a very thin wall, leaning in the direction of everyone else's sad.  What if we leaned in the other direction?  Where all is well, where heaven is here?  What if we got committed to staying there?  

I'm not saying there aren't very real circumstances that hurt.  In my family, my cousins are like my siblings, all 100 of them.  We start & end every conversation with "I love you."  Some of them can't feed their kids right now.  One will have to have his legs removed soon.  In my own life there have been times I could have helped them in a major way.  Written checks that would have made all the difference.  And I can't do that today.  I'm working to keep my house, recovering from the loss of our dream company, 24-hours past my 16 month-old in surgery.  It sucks, right?  But the family emails are ones of gratitude.  Of love  & appreciation, of requests for help & prayers & admissions of fear.  They are so courageous & we're all feeling the miracle of community.  

There's so many chances to get Present.  There's so many opportunities to Be Blessed, right now.  We are alive.  There are apple trees.  Spirit offers moments of reprieve.

In our family we've gotten committed to staying in Heaven.  Not to being "positive" or having a "Good Attitude."  But to really working to see what's amazing, right now.  To Seeing What's Amazing.  Right Now.

(Sleeping boys.  My love, snoring.  Warm blankets.  The sound of the freeway.  People going, living their lives.  Being small in the world.  A day spent completely outside.  A quiet house.  Bag of library books.  Gluten free pie crust.  Audrey B's family tea napkins.  A lightbulb at 1am)

I'm thinking of my dad, who always says things like, "I was startled!" This is very amusing because he is the most even-keel, goatee-wearing, beatnick-acting, mellow-kool San Francisco-cat around.  He doesn't startle.  My brothers, who are martial artists, use to sneak up on him in public & attack him from weird angles.  Dad would just block them, totally un-phased, as though he was expecting to see them all along.  But I know what he means.   My dad is a Fan, with a capital F.  While relaxed on the outside, inside he's filled with non-stop awe & a constant state of "Wow!"  He uses words like Mythic, Legendary, Masterful, Hero, & Epic on an hourly basis.  He has a language to support his life of wonder.

I'm interested in creating language that supports my life of joy.

Sweet.  Thank you.  Yes.  I love you.  Forgive me.  I'm sorry.  I'm grateful.  Partnership.  Friend.  Outside.  Oh. My.  Beloveds.  Let's Dance.

unpinned:: kid's work aprons

I love sewing as long as I don't have to pin or iron.  I've used the same technique as a fashion designer that I use with my kids ~ make it up!  I call it going unpinned, but someone else might call it break-the-rules sewing.

Usually I'd call this an unschooler-style pattern, but I learned a new word today: Earthschooling.  Check it out.  She has an interview with some new-to-me homeschooling stats I'm excited about here.

And while you're at it, business-minded families will LOVE the Four Hour Workweek.  It could easily be called The Corporate Liberation Handbook: How to Quit Work & Get a Real Life & Education.  This goes down as the 2nd most practical-hands on life-changing book I've ever read.  After the Teenage Liberation Handbook.

The first one made me resource-rich.  This one has made me time-rich.  

I read/watch his blog constantly.