Archives for June 2013

Landing to Hugs

You little ones got up at 5:40 this morning, and we spent some time playing, and hanging out on a hammock in the back yard. After a pancake brunch when mom finally got up closer to 9 AM, we all went to Tiger mountain.  It was your first time there.  The point, of course, was so that you could see the paragliders, including me when I went flying.

Conditions were fantastic, but after about 45 minutes in the sky, the batteries in my vario died, so I turned around to fly over the park where you were playing.  I had my phone set up so I could call you by voice control, since my hands were busy flying.

Mom put the phone on speaker and Anna, you wanted to know if I was “winning” and didn’t get that it was not a competition.  Lucas, you wanted me to wave, so I waved my legs, then did some asymmetric spirals overhead.  I came down to land with you in the park, rather than the traditional LZ.

Touching the ground, followed by you two little ones running out in the field to give me a hug made it the best flight ever.

Cookie Monster

Over the weekend, we made cookies together. You are almost 4, but this was actually the first time you participated in the process. It took a bit longer, but you both enjoyed it, taking turns with the blender and measuring.

This evening, Lucas, you had to get up a couple times from the table to go potty. I know you really had to go, because you even left part of your cookie on your plate, and said “Make sure nobody eats my cookie.”

However, when we were not looking, Anna, you decided to eat it. Worse, when I asked you about it, you said that you didn’t do it. I told you to go off to your room in a time-out, and you threw a tantrum. When I let you out, I let you know you needed to apologize to Lucas, which you did, then added that you were pretending to be the Cookie Monster.

A bit later, when we were sitting on the back porch, you said on your own “Lucas… do you forgive me for eating your cookie?” It was such a formal and yet honest question from you that I was surprised. So I let Lucas know the proper response.

A while back, Anna, you had asked what “temptation” and “trespasses” are from the Lord’s Prayer. So now we had a fresh example… that cookie on Lucas’ plate was the temptation. When you ate it, that was a trespass. And you asked Lucas to forgive you, which he did. It was all a matter-of-fact conversation, not at all punitive, and at least in appearance, you actually appeared to get it.

Liquored Up

Usually, I’m “on” when you two wake up on Saturday morning, and Mom gets to sleep in. Today, we spent most of the morning playing in the back yard with paper airplanes. They were terrible, good only for spiraling downward off the deck, but apparently you did not know or have expectations that they should actually fly straight, so we had a blast.

We watched one episode of “Sid the Science Kid” about melting and freezing, so I gave you both an ice cube in a tupperware sandwich container and let you figure out how ice worked. Anna, you took yours into the bathroom and melted it under the water. Lucas, you decided to eat yours.

Later, we went out for a walk around the neighborhood, through a field, and into a forest. The field had a large area covered in white tufts of fur, but I don’t know what kind of animal they were from. I said it was from bunnies, and that was good enough for the two of you.

There was a drainage gully, and you both knew that it was for where water ran off. There was a bottle of malt liquor in there, which I picked up to recycle. But during our walk, all three of us were getting tired. You two were tired because it was close to nap time. I was tired because I had been up with you since 5am, and I wanted to take a nap too.

I seriously considered having all three of us just take a nap out in the field together, save for two concerns. First would be that I would sleep more soundly than either of you, who would wander off before I woke up. Second would be that we would all be asleep, but somebody would walk by and see me with my two children, all three of us passed out, with an empty bottle of malt liquor at my side, and then call child-protective-services.

So we made our way back home, and as it was now around 12:30 PM, Mom was up and about. I told her “You’re on” in typical tag-team parenting style, then I went to bed as she then managed to put the two of you down.

Tree and Sparrow

I am a tree.  I do not struggle to reconnect with the ground, for it is always connected to me, and if ever that were not the case, I would cease to be.  Nor do I struggle in my efforts to be seen, to grow, to bring forth my life into the world.  Growing ever larger, stronger, and more powerful is my nature, and in so doing I contribute to the life of everything around me.

There may be times when I grow more, and times when I grow less, but even in the cold, dark, dormancy of winter, I remain connected to the ground, ready, waiting, silent and still, yet remaining true to my purpose of life.  When the conditions are right, I will awake.  While they are not, I will be still and focused.

But you, young sparrow, have flown from branch to branch, from tree to tree, from hillside to mountain to rocky crag, always sure that you had a purpose, but not heading the call of what that is and what it holds for you.  You have known the wind as your friend and played with it when present, but have yet to fully extend your wings and see that you can fly to great heights on you OWN power.

You have feared that to fly too high would put you too far from the ground that supports you, when nothing could be further from the truth.  The ground is always available to you, and the higher that you fly, the more ground that comes within your view.  The farther you see, the more possibilities open up for you on where to land —  for a moment, a day, or a lifetime.  Your home will always be on the ground, but your life and destiny are to be in the sky.

Look at my branches, reaching in all directions, each one offering a gift of shade, of food, of berries, of shelter or support to you.  Look at my bark, offering a home to the smallest of creatures that climb up my trunk.  We are sisters,  you and I.  And while you take shelter in my strength and stability, I take delight in your power and flight.

Listen to the wind… Do you hear it?  No, you do not.  Instead, what you hear is the sound of me and my brothers as the wind flows through our branches.  That is the sound of two worlds joining together; the threshold between the world of the earth and the world of the sky.

My dearest sparrow, you must fly.  Not just physically, but metaphorically, for only you can reach the heights of your destiny, to live your life of freedom, of purpose, of certainty, of care, of love, of delight, of power, of brilliance, of leadership, of discernment, and of LIFE.

Only then can you return to my branches and share with me your stories.  Only then can you return to the other creatures of the earth and tell them of the beauty of far away lands.  Only then can you inspire and lead others to begin their journey of greatness, whatever that may be.  You can chirp of your dreams as loud as your lungs will allow, but it is only when others see you in flight that they are inspired to reach for their dreams as well.

And so, young sparrow, take flight not of fancy, but of purpose – your purpose – a flight of greatness so that you may return and show others their way.  My branches will be here upon your return, and you can tell me great tales of where you have been, and of renewed purpose for where you will go next.  But fly you must.  The tallest of my branches is but the ground from which you launch.  Go forth into the sky and experience the world as yet unknown to you.  Go.  Go.  Go in peace, and love.

The theme of this post continues, 2 years later, with Sparrow Returns