Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly
A Matter of Change
Imagine changing your mind. To do that would be to make the world we see become the cause, rather than the effect of our experience. That sure would put the pressure on us. Whenever we’d have a negative thought, we’d have no one to blame but ourselves for the outcome of our feelings, and the resulting circumstances. We seem to find it much easier to just blame another whenever we are upset.
When Change Becomes Chaotic
Once they’re in the house, you can’t really change your mind about having kids, although the temptation might arise from time to time. There are, however, many opportunities to change one’s mind as you raise them.
A parent could shift from despair to chuckles in a matter of minutes on any old day if they were willing to let go of being the director; the judge of how things should be rather than the way things are in the moment. I think my skull got a bit flattened from slapping my forehead so many times as I seemed to rush from one crisis to another, trying to organise the family into a semblance of respectability. I could have changed my mind and chosen more often to step away in wonder and embrace the bizarre moments that a little gang can create. There were many such moments.
When I was in the middle of the chaos, writing became a lifeline for me. The kids would do and say something silly and I’d just write it down because something told me I’d forget that treasured moment. Of course, that forgetfulness might have been the result of a slightly flattened head, or more likely just plain mental overload. However those silly antics were a reminder to choose laughter when I could instead of anger. It was a matter of changing my mind, and changing the outcome.
Memories Matter
I recently read the following from my diary, written in 1995 when our young family was decorating the walls of our lives.
“ I write because I believe in laughter; that laughter springing from happiness which wells first in the silent heart, and then overflows in sound. And because its origin is the heart, there is always love where laughter is. I think there is a lot of laughter in heaven.
Laughter is a kind of medicine for the soul. When I feel I am losing it, getting frustrated with the kids, if I can only see some shred of humour in the situation, it is like a balm spread upon me. I can manage. I can manage. I can manage to laugh, to get above it and see it for what it really is- bits and pieces of life smooshed together – sometimes too close and fast, but pieces all the same, and smooshed by very loveable, and often very funny little folks. They are all little comedians in their own individual ways.”
Rising Above
I’m a grandmother now, and despite living far from our grandchildren, or perhaps because of it, I can sometimes find a bit of that angel dust that helps me lighten up so that when life veers off course, I might rise above, change my mind and choose a chuckle. Like when our grand daughter was determined to go to school in a pink tutu and cowboy hat. Do we try to change that determined little tyke, or do we savour the moment and the smile that it brought?
Choose Laughter