My days are filled primarily with two things. Sitting in meetings and sitting at a computer writing plans and responding to messages. I would say my work is pretty important and that I have accomplished something meaningful in the last 10-12 years. I work at a public Canadian University and when I started out there was no formal sustainability program there. Sustainability wasn’t integrated into the governance structure, policies or culture of the institution. Very few people considered the link between the environment, society and the economy (sustainability) in their jobs at the University.
I have always dreamed of having a big piece of property full of fruit trees, gardens, and open spaces. A place where my children and their imaginations could run free. Perhaps a part of this is the small taste that I had of this as a child on Lasqueti Island where for a brief time we spent our days on a 25 acre piece of wild land that was ours to explore.
This morning I passed the 9 1/2 meditation hour mark. Six weeks of daily quiet. With the exception of the occasional day missed I have begun to weave this practice into my daily life. I feel its absence when it is not there. I notice the impact of a day made naked without the protective blanket that meditation has begun to wrap me. I no longer practice because I know it is good for me. I practice because I can no longer not practice.
I am beginning to rest more firmly into my intuition. I feel more confident in my own skin and in my own path. Because the air is clearer between my ears I can listen more easily to my gut and notice more readily my emotions and interactions with the world. I feel like I am standing on a stronger foundation and the beginnings of a formidable oak tree is taking root at my base and slowly but surely growing upward forming a firm but flexible inner core.
Parenting for me has been a journey of self discovery. Never have I questioned myself so much or wanted to be more of a better person than since my son was born. He has taught me a great deal about life and about how truly selfless and selfish I can often be.
I was originally going to write this post about how my husband and I are such great models of slow parenting. We have both dedicated time away from work to be with him, I nursed him for 2 1/2 years (a major badge of pride and an unfortunate fate for my breasts), we make a lot of our food from scratch with organic local ingredients etc., and blah blah blah. You would be so proud. Or, even likelier, sick from all the self congratulation.
Instead, I’d like to tell a story about how my little boy has taught me the greatest wisdom I have learned in all my life. All the things I think I have given him are actually lessons he has taught me.
How to live sustainably is often framed as an exercise in subtraction. We are admonished to reduce here, lower there, and do with less. I have long struggled with this negative approach. It is based on a language and culture of sacrifice and depends on the ongoing goodwill and self discipline of the individual. It is not particularly motivating to always be taking things away. Also, I have read that we each only have so much willpower each day. Each time we say “no” to something the next no gets that much harder.
A similar approach is used to encourage people to eat healthy diets. Take away the fat, take away the carbs, take away the sugar…minus, minus, minus. What happens when you are not allowed to eat potato chips? Do you think about them constantly? Do you crave them more intensely than you ever would if you were allowed to have them? I do.
Anxiety and fear have ruled me my whole life. Both have been my mantra, my direction, and in some moments my savior. But, living in a state of fear and anxiety rots the soul, and the body, and spreads that rot to all who come into contact with it. I was given the gift of facing death in the last five years. Looking directly at your own mortality is like looking into the vastness of space. It gives you perspective.
There are few things that bring me more joy than making from scratch something that is super yummy, super healthy and super respectful of the place and people that the ingredients come from.
On a daily basis I cannot achieve all three things but I try. I really try and when I come close I feel at peace. When my son eats what I have made and says “yummy mommy!” this is the description of pure bliss.
I made granola last night and miraculously it turned out to be a thumbs up breakfast this morning. Granola always seems a bit of a naughty cereal in our house because it has loads of sugar in it even if it isn’t the refined kind. Usually its just plain cereal like Cheerios and milk/soy milk. The sweet and crunchy combo is quite a delight for us weekday breakfast puritans.