More Like Kuan Yin

From a free write linking yoga to writing teaching/practice at a conference. Next entry will be the paper I presented about my own teaching, very much related to these thoughts about power and letting go:

Prompt by Pema Chodron, The Power of Patience: "There's a slogan that says, 'one at the beginning and one at the end.' That means that when you wake up in the morning you make your resolve, and at the end of the day you review with a careful and gentle attitude , how you have done. The path of developing loving-kindness and compassion is to be patient with the fact that you are human and that you make mistakes. That's more important than getting it right. And, interestingly enough, that adds up to something: it adds up to loving kindness for yourself and for others."

This is also a response to my post from last night (boy that was a creepy movie)

I like the idea of being gentle with myself. I like the idea of being gentle with my students. I like the idea of being gentle with my child, realizing that he, too, has to make mistakes in order to grow. I need to realize that I am asking him to understand very complex and adult ideas that make automatic sense to me because I am acculturated to the rules of our society; he is not yet. For instance, why can't he paint on the wall? Why can he write with chalk on the wall painted with chalkboard paint, but not on the other walls? What if it looks nicer after he paints it? What if the chalk just rubs off? Why? Why not?

How can I apply yoga (and humor) to all of these things? How can I be compassionate for myself, and extend that to those just beginning to know how to be and create in a new world (for my son, the world of middle class American culture. for my students, the world of reading, writing, and critical thinking. actually, they are all learning to think critically). What would Super Nanny say to such an approach? How do you make something hard go easier, as in yoga when you relax into the pose? How do I make my pose of teacher/mother better, more elegant by relaxing into it? Both positions seem utterly un-relaxing. How do you breathe into a tantrum or a sentence with no verb? Is it just a matter of keeping my cool? I don't think it's a matter of giving into everything or accepting chaos. How do I keep from getting angry/frustrated? How do I deliver loving-kindness to these other people? How do I make it happen for myself?

I think part of my sadness about Dylan is the separation necessary in our relationship right now. It's the good, productive kind of tension that will help him develop his independence. Joey brings me such joy because we are symbiotic right now - and I mean biologically through nursing. She is my little leech.

I didn't even notice Dylan's new independence until Larry pointed out that he was helping himself to something in the fridge. That's scary for me. It's hard to let go of the control of him asking for something, just as it is hard to let my students discover new modes and voices on their own. But it is good. I recognize that, even if I have to cover my mouth and sit on my hands. It is nice to sit back and watch him; my students, too, when they have a new interpretation or slant on language. How do I prevent myself from reflecting myself onto them? How to allow them the space to create their own identities as people and writers. And then, how do I trust that it won't all fall into chaos? Well, trust, maybe, just as I trust being upside down in handstand, literally accepting an inverted view of the world. Sometimes it is good to leave off your own perspective and see things with inverted eyes.