In "Rhythm and Discipline in Home Life," Rahima Baldwin Dancy reminds us that we will find ourselves tuned up to guide our children once we release our (false) expectation that they will remember our (ostensibly) wisdom tomorrow. Rather than, "Why do you always slam the door? I tell you every day not to!" we might make it a (spiritual) practice to be present at the door like a zen master ready to help our child close the door gently. Sharifa Oppenheimer gives this analogy: anytime we have to direct our children in an incendiary moment, we soothe our children and shift their vibrations if we can offer our words with the same inflection we might say to a guest, "Here's the towel."
I remember uttering (out loud!) "Here's the towel" to girls in an explosive conflict over a doll. Strangeness disarmed them. They paused, descried their weird teacher, and flowed into collaborative and imaginative play they were both wanting so much.
Andrea Gambardella, the teacher who launched me into nursery and parent & child teaching in Baltimore, a teacher who drips with erudition and integrity and warmth, encourages us to find metaphors that work for us. She pictured herself as a sturdy oak, able to stand no matter what winds or storms blew by it.
Recently I took my first Bikram Yoga class. Glorious. 90 minutes at 105 degrees. This intensity tasted like the wee little bear's porridge to me: I opened, expanded, released. I adored the teachers. This was Seattle. Classes had about 30 to 50 students. The poses are difficult. Teachers need to correct us constantly. They need to correct sometimes one student. Sometimes they have to give generic feedback that will help everyone without causing one or a few students to overcompensate. The four teachers I've witnessed seemed a master at giving this necessary and almost constant feedback in a supportive and nonjudgmental tone. I never once felt my worthiness in question.
Eureka. I had a vibrant, living, refreshed metaphor for my teaching. While I would not talk constantly in an early childhood classroom, I did wonder if I could carry this attitude of giving feedback with such equanimity, something I know we are supposed to do--yet it is so easy to slide into the slough of despair and exasperation. Could I guide that child about to strike another child with a stick (important for me to intervene) with the same calmness and freedom from judgment my yoga instructors treat me with when I can't touch my forehead to the floor while having my knees locked? I could! And did. And it helped the children realize that they did not have to be stuck in their same patterns. These things actually work!
We want to feel well. We want to flow. We want to expand. We want to be free. We want to lift others. And it is so easy to fall into unconscious habits that take us out of the present moment, that bring in doubt, judgment. It is such a blessing when a new experience can help to wake us up yet again and remind us that we can step back into a place of presence, free from resistance, full of allowing, knowing, seeing, loving, helping, nurturing, soothing, sweating. Here's the towel to dry off your sweat when you find your practice.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
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