Coffee's Back On

I just read the title of the last post I put on here and it made me chuckle, as I reached for my mug of warm coffee.

I was off coffee. For quite some time. And then I started drinking it again. And I like it.

What else is new? Let's see...

I'm working more with Kat Mills at offering yoga trainings in a modular fashion so they are accessible to people financially, and time-wise, as well as curricularly, if that's a word. Nope, it's not as indicated by the red underlining in my "word processor." What I mean by "curricularly" is that you may just want to learn a bit more about yoga and not sign up for a whole bunch of yoga teachings. For whatever reason. So with that, you can sign up for all or parts of 200 Hour or 500 Hour teacher training programs.

I'll list them all on the right so you can see what is coming up.

Also, it's March Break and I'm taking my daughter off to Montreal for the day where we will traipse through the campuses of some, gulp, universities, she may like to be attending the future. I'm just telling myself we're going for lunch. Maybe a trip to Simons, which we don't have here in Ottawa, and that's why we're all the way over in Quebec. That's what I might tell myself...

They Grow Up So Fast

I remember when I was pregnant with my daughter, someone told me "they grow up so fast." I'm sure many people told me that along the way but I do remember one time when it just stood out and I took it in.

I know they grow up fast. I know I can stay present so it doesn't feel like it's going by so fast. And then sometimes - bam - it feels like it's happening so fast.

At first it was the little things - when she liked to eat - then that would change. Or what she liked to wear. What her favourite colour was. Just when I thought I had it down, it would change. Just as I got used to her being little, she grew. As soon as I got used to her knowing this much, she showed me she was aware of so much more.

I knew she was getting on a plane today - I bought her the ticket for heaven's sake - but I didn't realize that I wasn't ready for her to go away for two weeks. I know it's not a long time. I know I'll see her down at Omega in two weeks. But knowing that didn't take away the surprise pang of missing I felt when she got in her dad's car this morning to go to the airport.

She even said, "Mom, do you want to come to the airport?" and I said no. I'd already made up my mind I wasn't going this morning. I have other things to do. And I do. But that sweet surprise feeling of "Wait! Don't go! You're my daughter and I'll miss you for two weeks," just sort of jumped out of nowhere.

I know this is a preview of her leaving many, many times in the future. There will be so many goodbyes and hellos I expect. This one just caught me off guard. I love her so much and I love being her mom. What a great relationship that is. I guess sometimes I take it for granted because it's always just there - the fighting and hugging and challenging and joking - and this morning I have a little taste of that being not there. Loving a teenager - it's an awesome challenge and I love it! Sniff!

(Update: she's cleared Customs and I have permission to use this picture from last week.)
(Update #2: she wanted to read the post and the picture below is of the text she sent me. Sniff!)

Practising Non-Attachment as a Parent

I remember learning about attachment before I became a parent. I didn't quite get it. I was young. I thought Buddha maybe just had a bad attitude and if he could shift his perspective, he'd see that suffering really was optional. Oh dear.

Then I became a mother. Now I know what attachment is. And let me tell you, not all attachment is bad. In fact, I used to say that if I wasn't attached to my daughter, I'm not sure how I would have kept taking care of her. So it serves a purpose...

So there I was, a practising non-attacher, having a kid, wanting her to be great, but not because I was forcing or pushing her, but because she was just turning out that way, through you know, her nature.

While she was little, we enrolled her in Suzuki violin. One of our yoga students was a Suzuki teacher and it made a lot of sense. I figured I'd be fighting, I mean interacting, with my daughter about something like dance or gymnastics classes, so it might as well be playing the violin. At least parents are involved and there's good communication and it's a pretty wholesome activity.

So my daughter was a "musician." She had an instrument and we had a purpose. We invested in lessons and music camp and pretty note drop earrings. We sat through hours of lessons and many more hours of practising at home in addition to arguing about practising and getting ready to go and spending time in traffic getting to, violin lessons. We did this for years.

I didn't realize how attached I'd become to being a parent of a little musician until one day she stopped playing. "What do you mean you're not going to play the violin anymore? We've spent thousands of dollars on this activity. What will you do instead? Don't you know that kids who are in the orchestra don't wind up in trouble at school?"

I kept the paraphernalia in a drawer and on shelves. The music books. Music stand. Extra shoulder and chin rests. Resin. Little things. And sort of let go of my attachment to my daughter being a musician. She dabbled in the bass and that was cool but she didn't really get back into it. Oh well. She used to be a musician. Now she just sits on the couch and plays on the computer. Oh well. She was probably too structured in the past. Oh well.

Years pass. She picks up modelling. The fashion kind. That freaked me out and I watched my attachment to her not being a model show up. "Just let it go. Pay for the photos. It's an activity. It's good she's doing something. Her hair looks really nice now and her make up sure is pretty. Allow her to be herself..."

Then I get the strangest text out of the blue last month. "Should I start doing violin again" was what it said. "Ok" was the reply and "it'll give me something to do after school." Wow. I contacted her most recent old teacher (not my yoga student) who said he had room and after a bumpy start, we're back at it. Saw her old teacher for the first time in years and it was like no time had passed. She even picked up sort of where she'd left off. His handwriting was still in the books and he could see where she'd ended a few years ago. This time it's so different though. She practises with her own initiation. She suggests it and asks me to be there but if I'm not, she still plays. Her sound is great and it's really nice to hear live music in the house again.

It's not finished but I'm just enjoying the bobbing of the waves. Up and down. Life. Parenting. It's wonderful.