Age Does Not Dictate Wisdom

In our family some of the best conversations are at the supper table or when the house is quiet for the night, the reading lamps are lit, and the pages of books are opened.  The conversations usually start with me saying something entirely inappropriate, but that tends to break down any guards that may be up and allow for an opportunity to talk openly.

The lessons in our home basically happen informally with the rhythm of the day.  One of the recurring lessons has been to empower my kids with with simple knowledge that they have a voice to speak and, even though they don't have the years of age behind them, they hold truths that even grownups need to hear. 

In a simple, less wordy version, I tell my kids, 

"Sometimes adults get it wrong and kids are our best teachers."

This simple truth was found on my sons school bulletin board outside his wonderful teacher's classroom.  I would like to share with you what he wrote.  Proof that, at his age, he can be a teacher of the aged.

blue-voids

The Best Part of Me!

My heart allows me to live.  It is pumping blood through every vein in my body.  I write from my strong heart.  My heart is filled with joy, sadness and every other emotion!  You may not be able to see my heart (not with out an X-ray at least) but you can tell it's there by me simply being present in reality.  Not present in a book, or a video game.  My heart allows me to be me.  That is why my beautiful and powerful heart is the best part of me!

Guest Blogger: Kaden Harrison, Age 10

Glass Ceiling

This is not the first time I lay under the pressure of the glass ceiling.  I lay on the ground that holds me, steadies me and gaze up to the ceiling that has been with me.  The glass holds my story, my journey - it has been cracked, shattered, and destroyed only to be built back again.  

At every build, there is a greater precision in how it is crafted, a depth of beauty from merging all the shattered pieces into a magnificent mosaic.

There has been a steady pressure again, one that at first has brought a depth of smallness, of helplessness, of sorrow.  This pressure was an invader at first, unwelcomed. 

Time still marches on and the pressure on my glass ceiling is not alleviating.  I’m able to hold it steady, because I have slowly learned to welcome it in, I have learned to cushion the pressure - in a way I don’t want to let the pressure go.  It has been with me for a long time.  It is the pain that reminds me that I love deeply, It reminds me that I am small, life is short, hold onto love, speak and live from the honest place of your heart .

I watch the glass ceiling.  I know it will break, come crashing in on me.  Its going to cut deep; its going to puncture me.

I lay under my ceiling, I study the beauty of its structure, it somehow has become more transparent, it illuminates my view.

Photo by: Bing Wright

But it will break.

At times I find myself laying on the ground under the weight of my glass ceiling, with all my limbs extended in the air as if trying to hold the ceiling up, trying to help it not crack, but knowing it is fragile.  That the pressure of my hands and feet has to be precise but gentle.

It’s going to break.

When the glass begins to weaken under the pressure, it will come crashing down, in it's weight and jagged edges.  I will welcome it  - because I have loved.  It will pierce, because I have loved.

I will have scars from the glass that cuts, but those scars will not be unwelcomed. I will not see them as a flaw, but I will see them as love.

I will build the glass ceiling again.  It always gets rebuilt in time, the time that marches.  With every build, the merging of the freshly shattered edges together causes the light to shine in the room from new angles, and allows for me to see things through a new perspective.

Image from Cloud Nodes

I will rebuild my ceiling and I will hold this new depth of love that has been growing in me, teaching me.

The pressure  -  was Love all along.


Nikki

We all have a story

We all have a story.

I feel like I owe it to you to fill you in on my past two years to explain the present.  Or for that matter to fill you in on the last decade, because I can’t have this story that is unfolding without the one that brought me to this threshold of the current.  All of which has transformed me, changed me.  But for today’s purpose I will start with the present.

And like a good conversation the past will find its way into my story.

At this present moment I find myself envisioning a room that I will work in.  I see how the lighting will be, the color of the fabrics, the layout of the room. But more then just the physical room I see it's purpose.

I have been stuck, stuck in routine, stuck in roles, stuck in my lack of wonder.  And these last two years have been . . . . . .long pause . . . . .Hard . . . . . the only word I could come up with.  

But the feeling I feel for these last two years, these hard years, is a stillness, is a reverence, there is a deep quite in me, emotions are waiting to be given permission to move, there is a burning in my heart, an excitement because even though these past two years have been years of fear and grief they have exposed a deep innate desire to LIVE. 

To not settle, to not put limits on myself, to not put limits on my observation of this universe.

I have a few mantras that I have been breathing in:

"Why not you"?   &  "You are More"!   

It is these simple phrases that started the ripple of shifting and change. 

Change seems to be the lead character of my story. 

I feel a fight of the old and new contending for space.  The shifting of thoughts and beliefs. There is a vibration and an excitement for what lies ahead. 

I only have fragments of words and images that have yet to be placed on their pages. 

In what order they land . . . 

Well, that is the wonder of the story!   

Nikki