This is Edie.
This is Edie with soul fever. Luckily it doesn’t appear to be too contagious. Kale’s still in that happy go lucky baby phase immune to the emotional eruptions that seem to occur out of the blue around him at times but as you can read in his eyes the touch of concern; “What’s up with Edie?” And; “We’re still getting a pumpkin, right?”
Soul fevers are topic at hand in my Simplicity Parenting Leader training this week. When Cheech and I did our intimate book club of two over the phone so long ago I remember sharing that this chapter has been especially helpful to me because when I would be completely exasperated with my firey little Scorpio girl – What could possibly be the problem? Look around, we’re surrounded by glorious pumpkins! Think Cinderella. What’s there to be pouty about? – the concept of holding her close, just as if an actual physical fever were present, has lent me a tool of compassion toward my big baby girl when soul fever erupts; which tend to occur during times of transition as was pointed out by our training leader.
Transition. Hmmm… she has been losing her teeth, we’re introducing new numbers or letters almost everyday and we’re definitely feeling a chill in the air, and dang, it’s dark when we wake up!
The suggestion for these times of less than savoury moments is to, of course, simplify. Such as with an illness, halt any outside activities, bring on the clean, simple foods, keep the kid close to home, cut down on screen time and maybe, just for kicks, stay in pajamas for the day.
Another tool that was introduced in the training that I found pretty profound was the Compassionate Resonse meditation. (From here on in I’m going to use a female reference to children everywhere because during this transitional period I can’t seem to get my female offspring out of my head as the ultimate example). During the meditation you hold a dual image of your child; one with her experiencing a ‘golden moment’: with that deliciously silly, blissed out with childhood look on her face that would be snatched up by talent agents looking for little hams to star in TV commercials ( if they still had such things), and an image of your child in her more, what’s a delicate word here…, challenging moments. Holding these two opposing versions of your dear offspring, which in fact make up the whole gamut of who she is, begin to draw in the not so cute version closer to your heart as you release the “don’t you just want to eat her?” image away. Yes, it seems backwards doesn’t it? But I typed this out correctly. Savoury out. Not so savoury in; closer to your heart. Closer to your centre it will be easier to carry her weight. Kind of like baby slinging again, no?
This practice I have to say was pretty powerful with many opportunities recently to put it to test. To be fair, the morning after these pictures were taken she fell sick. But with this image of holding pouty Edie closer, deep toward my heart, I feel like I have the leverage to attend to both the bug that’s been invading her tummy and the bug that has been challenging her spirits; reminding her that growing up can be at times hard but no matter what your mama will always be there to hold you close through it all.
Kale's like; "You two just have your moment. Cuddle away. Take your sweet time. No rush. Halloween's just in a few days. Still need a pumpkin. No biggie."
And on that note: