Hindsight is sometimes a dark place to look back on my healing journey from the traumatic experience I had birthing Bodhi. But it can also be a lovely, lofty place that allows me clarity and perspective.

One thing I can  see in hindsight is a clear journey. Whilst it has not always felt clear, from the present moment, I can see the path that has unfolded for me, like a lotus flower gently opening until it reaches full bloom (the exciting thing being, I don’t believe I have reached “full bloom” yet).

Within this path, I can see stages and milestones that I have passed. I haven’t always realised it at the time, but there have been shifts in my focus, behavior, cognitions and feelings during the journey, that have resulted in a shift in psyche affecting my whole life and self.

The first stage was that of “support”. This was the first six or so weeks after the birth. I was heavily traumatised, moving from numbness and defeatedness to high anxiety. I needed assistance to carry out not only mothering activities that were new to me, but even basic daily tasks. I desperately searched for support  where ever I could get it, and sadly not always found it. It was an incredibly isolating time. So support not only refers to the predominant need I had, but also to the major task I had in this stage.

Finding the support- by convincing my husband just how broken I was, from a child and family health nurse, from some friends, and most importantly, my mother (I had very rarely confided in her on this level and the trust it took me to do this was immense considering the trust in others that had been broken by the birth event). Having surrounded myself with support, I was able to move onto healing in the security that others were with me.

That one was a palpable shift: having told my mother about the PTSD, and having been accepted and nurtured, I felt my self releeeeeeeeeaaaaaase all the anxiety and feel safe and a little understood for the first time in weeks. It was a much lighter feeling, and restful, and peaceful. The pain was still there; but I wasn’t alone.

The healing stage was less defined. This and the next stage- growth- ran separate at times, together at times, and wove together in a strong and vibrant way. However, I wasn’t able to grow until I started to heal.

In some ways, I am still healing. The pain and trauma comes and goes, and mainly I manage it well. It was learning to manage it well that was my task here, to express all the hurt and anger and guilt in an adaptive and productive way, and to seek a wider perspective on my experience. I was no longer immobilised by my trauma, and this was the stage that all the painful, hard, messy work was done.

This was the stage of counselling sessions, of many many debriefing talks with my husband, for a focus on bonding with my precious little child, and for surrounding myself in the stories of others, too. It was working with and through the pain. During this time I founded Birth Healing, and that too was an outlet for my pain. It started with absolutist, black and white feeling, and ended with being able to see shades of grey.

I started to see colours when I reached the growth stage. This was when I was able to take what had happened to me and turn it into something positive. I created Birth Healing, and invited other women to be nurtured and heal and grow, though perhaps I didn’t understand it all at that point. I came to see that Bodhi’s birth gifted me with a ferociousness of spirit, of strength, of a deeper self love and need for self nurture. I no longer needed to separate myself and my trauma. I was able to integrate this experience into my self, and as such, grew into the ‘completeless’ of me in the moment. I continue to ‘grow complete’ with each day, and without the traumatic experience of Bodhi’s birth, I would lack a vital part of my identity. There were many positives to be found, and coming across each of them has been a delight and a special gift from the universe. The pain is still there, but it doesn’t rule me. I rule it, and use it.

The fourth stage- my predominant one at the moment- is action. Despite the gifts my particular experience has given me, I can see that so much of the pain I experienced can be avoided. I see fundamental flaws in the way birthing is seen in our society- not only in the medicalisation of birth, but also the lack of understanding of what women and birth need, and importantly, how to support a birthing woman and baby in birth and babymoon, and I want to be part of the groundswell to bring birth into a more revered and respected place. I can feel so much energy related to birth, humming in the earth, in mamas and families worldwide, and this energy sustains me and all other birth activists (whether they are lobbying for birth reform, or more importantly, choosing peaceful birth options) and will eventually see birth overtake us all and be that revered, natural, wonderful ritual that we have lost.

I thought this stage would be full of anger, but it hasn’t been. Every time I uncover a new bit of information, a new perspective, a wise woman with lessons, or am surrounded by other birth-nurturers, I am filled with peace and inspiration and new determination. Sometimes I am angry, but it is an energetic anger directed at bringing about a powerful and wonderful goal.

These stages are not, as I have already said, mutually exclusive. I have experienced them all, have jumped back and forth between them, been in two or more of them at once. It’s a piece of art in itself. I do, however, belive I had to experience support before healing, healing before growth, and growth before action.

One goal I have, is to investigate whether other women have a similar pattern of recovery after traumatic birth experiences. Or, more accurately, I would like to help others be able to look back on thier journey (on the path, for it is a path we will always walk) and be able to see the beautiful tapestry behind them, to hold their pain, bless it, and walk on.


What makes a home?

January 29, 2009

I considered the above question this morning, whilst standing on the verandah looking over our rather bedraggled but much loved vegie garden. Bodhi was wandering around eating a tomato that we had freshly picked for him, and I realised that, whilst transitory, I am going to miss this place when we move to Bellingen.

Over my life, I have lived in twelve different places. I have lived in every type of situation, from multiple occupancy farms, to share houses, to boarding, in huts, in apartments, in large houses, in a refuge, by myself, with partners, with friends, and with enemies. I have rented and owned. I even spent four miserable but healing months in a mouldy, old caravan.

I have felt a strong affinity to some places, and never felt at home with others. Strangely enough, I never really felt at home with the place Zai and I owned. Having said that, I believe that a place never belongs to you- you belong to a place, and as such, and having lived that experientially, home ownership is not a goal of mine anymore, except in maybe a convenience sense.

What has lead me to feel connected to a place- like I belong?

To answer this I will reflect on the places I have lived with a sense of connection to a strong degree. Those places are the MO I grew up on- an old hut in the middle of a thousand acres outside a small rural town; my first flat out of home; the caravan, an apartment at Flynn’s Beach,  and this place.

The farm gave me roots. I lived there for fifteen years, so shared a considerable history with it. The land was my solace, the cradle of my imagination, a classroom far more interesting and relevant than any I went through in the school system.

In childhood, being somewhat socially isolated, I found a lot of what I was searching for in the land. In my cubbies in the forest, I created additions to my family of mum and I- many brothers and sisters. I had a whole imaginary life supplementing my real one. I had a complex and comforting narrative wrapped up in the land, and all my special secret spots and beautiful places.

We were evicted when I was fifteen, as the owners were selling the property, and that is the loss I probably still feel most keenly to date.

So, from this place, what makes a home? Shared history. Personal meaning that no one else shares.

The memories of my first little apartment are predominantly really fun. It felt so liberating to be out of home, to do my own thing in my own way, if daunting. I think we had a party every weekend, and I soon had two flatmates and two cats living with me in an area the size of an average lounge room (or, at least it felt like it sometimes!). Somehow we managed about eight months there before we were evicted, when one of us left a tap on and flooded the downstairs garage.

What do I take from this? A place of fun and joy, but also of finding and affirming my self.

The caravan was a sanctuary after a nasty breakup. I had very little money, very few options, and just about no self esteem. I was hurting badly, but at the same time had a keen instinct to heal.

It was again a time of finding myself, but this time, not discovering who I was, but reinventing myself, examining what I liked, and enhancing it, and discarding what no longer served me.

The apartment at Flynn’s was in some ways the opposite. Having come through that time, rebuilding my self esteem, options and bank account, I rented this beautiful penthouse. The first morning I woke up there, I had a wonderful feeling of space and lightness all around me.

That flat was testament to my journey in life, my material and spiritual progress. It was karmic, I think.

From that place, I found my belonging in a reflection of my journey.

The house we now live in is filled with joy because of the people. Mainly my beautiful little boy. When I think about this house, I think about Bodhi running around eating home grown tomatoes. I think of Zai and I sitting on the verandah at midnight drinking chai and talking about social issues. I think of the way the dawn light streaming in the window looks as I feed my child.

So from this place, I learn family. But also, it’s a mutually beneficial relationship we have with this house. We tend it’s gardens, look after the land, and it provides us with food. We cleanse the space, and it provides us with peace. We sow in love, and we are surrounded by love.

So in a small way, we are dependant on each other. Interdependency is what it has taught us.

To summarise, connectedness and belonging come from shared history and personal meaning, fun and joy, connecting and affirming the self, a sanctuary but at the same time reflecting the life journey, but mostly, a sense of love and interdependence.

In five months, we make the move to our soul town. We take with us not only possessions, but these lessons, and I look forward to finding my home I knwo is already there, waiting for me, just like it always has.

Harvesting Anger

January 15, 2009

Anger is so often seen as a negative emotion. The immediate mental image I elicit, when I think ‘anger’ is a loss of control, violence, and being swept away.

The more enlightened of us will know, there is no such thing as “good” and “bad”, or “positive” and “negative”; not in a truly universal, existential sense anyway. “Good”, “bad” and all those kinds of words are labels, and simplistic ones that deny the complexity of any situation at that. They deny the natural duality, continuum and changeability of the universe and anything that exists within it. Secondly, they are firmly and often unconsciously based on our perspectives- our unique constructs of the world, built not from reality, but from experience, contemplation and the values and beliefs we have taken on from the world around us.

Keeping this in mind, I let go of the need to see anger as a negative or destructive emotion. Of course, it can be, but to label it as either of those things, to box it in, is cutting me off from the opportunity that it may present me.

A duality of anger is this: it can be constructive, or destructive. Destructive anger fuels violence, prejudice and danger. Perhaps it stems from a lack of full contemplation of the situation (which is, of course, a challenge in the heat of the moment!). Also, it can be indicative of an overly powerful id, (or in lay terms, instinctual drive), or perhaps the insufficient completion of an earlier life stage of controlling instincts and channelling them into socially acceptable ways (although, given again the duality of things, there probably are times that unrestrained, public anger is appropriate, and certainly, from a therapeutic sense, it can be useful to appropriately express these kinds of emotions in a safe environment…but I digress).

To an activist, constructive anger is a valuable tool. Activism stems from a sense of injustice, and that sense of injustice, among other things, will commonly elicit anger.

Without anger, there would be no activism, no Movements, no social justice.

Anger gives us the energy to step outside our comfort zones and speak out about our beliefs. It helps us to keep campaigning and educating when morale is low and positive change seems unlikely. It helps us connect with those who are most primarily affected by the issue, whether it be a deep sense of centeredness and grounding in our own place in the world, or a nameless identity on the other side of the world.

Anger provokes us to consider our world, to engage in it, and to debate and consider how it can be improved. Given this consciousness, it shows us how to act.

All of this, makes anger a gift from the universe, to us, and ultimately to itself.

The important issue is how the anger is used. Anger, used creatively, and constructively engages people, involves them and assists us all, cooperatively to make a fairer world. Destructive and violent anger (not only is physical violence, but verbal and emotional and any other way) alienates people, and creates not cooperation, but delineation. By it’s own definitions, it cuts itself off from meeting it’s own goals.

The trick is a matter of control. Does the anger control you, or do you control your anger? It’s ‘your’ anger, to use as benefit to you, and not as is often seen, to undermine you. Own it, and allow it to serve you, and your world.


January 8, 2009

Something I have struggled as a parent is my ability to play. Writing it even seems a little absurd to me, what indeed is ‘ability to play?’  By this, I mean the ability to engage Bodhi, and be present with Bodhi, as he explores his world through toys and objects (for of course, play isn’t limited to toys!).

It’s not that I don’t understand the importance of play to someone of his age. I remember reading somewhere that play is a child’s work; and it is through play that he will develop cognitive, social, physical and all kinds of skills.

So knowing this, I think perhaps I put a lot of pressure on myself to be a ‘good playmate’ to Bodhi. At times I have felt guilty, or perhaps neglectful, because of my inability to connect well in this way.

And it’s not all the time that I can’t be present through him with play (and that I need to acknowledge to myself). But the trend is, that I have difficulty disengaging from the adult, task orientated and distracted mindset, to that of a child, who is purely connected to the moment and experiencing things, if not for the first time, then with freshness and vigour.

It makes me sad that I am so wrapped up in my world, and my experience of the world, that I can’t let go of it without much effort and be open to the opportunity of play. I consider myself a primarily task orientated person, and the playful side of me has always been in the shadow of my more dominant persona, which has always been a source of dissatisfaction, but more recently, has been greater in magnitude due to the frustration and disconnection it entails. Often, I just can’t reach where Bodhi is on that level, and I don’t like being an outsider in that.

However, having given the feelings and experience above room to voice themselves, I now forgive myself and allow myself to be open to new experience without limiting myself. The ability to do this came from an insight I had the other day.

Play is, of course, not the only way I have to connect with my son. We connect in lots of ways- through breastfeeding, co-sleeping, reading books together and discussing the world (as well as infinite moments just shared in spur of the moment things). But I have recently discovered another way that we have been sharing presence- and that’s through the day to day tasks of living.

I had misgivings about ‘routine’ from day one as a parent. From my initial perspective, routine for me seemed more about parental convenience- having a predictable baby (maybe that’s what people mean when they ask me if I have a ‘good’ baby??) that fits well into the lives of his or her parents. And from the benefit of hindsight, whilst this may be true for some families- most often unintentionally so, and simply a matter of lack of awareness that other options exist and are beneficial- I now think I allowed myself to be indoctrinated a little.

In the natural/attachment/connection parenting circles- like with any other social group there is- there are a small number  who are fundamental and unforgiving. And these are the sources from which I took on the belief that all routine is bad, that helping my baby to sleep by having a predictable, gentle bedtime routine (even if it takes two hours some nights!) is ignoring the fact that the baby will sleep when it’s tired, so no ‘bedtime’ is needed, and in fact, this is simply a way of manipulating my child to meet my adult needs. Or other such things, like having meals at regular times and so on.

So generally, Bodhi would fall asleep anywhere between 9pm and 1am, I make him meals when he communicated he was hungry, and he might have had one or two or three naps a day anywhere between twenty minutes and three hours long. Whilst I was connected to him and tuned into his needs at all times, there was a small part of me that felt scattered and needed to reassert myself and my needs (in a mutually beneficial way) and even a little resentful. And I think Bodhi picked up on that, and because of this, and the general lack of predictability, I believe it heightened his wariness of the world that resulted from the birth trauma.

However, after my mother had the stroke, and came to live with us, I knew things had to change. Managing the needs of myself and a one-year-old, as well as Zai to some extent, was hard enough, let alone with caring for someone who had recently had a very serious illness, and whose health habits (such as only eating one meal a day) needed to be changed.

And so I started to incorporate a bit of rhythm into our lives. Some things were non negotiably outside the boundaries of routine- such as breastfeeding on Bodhi’s cues, and not forcing Bodhi to sleep through the night. But other things, such as having regular meal times; a bedtime routine where we brush our teeth, have a feed, put all the toys to bed and then read stories; and making sure there is a balance of outside and inside time and active and restful time throughout the day, have become part of our repertoire.

I believe I have balanced all of our family’s needs, allowing the things that are important not to be constrained, such as feeding to be done when needed, whilst providing a respectful, gentle framework to the day that allows everyone a sense of comfort and wellbeing.

Bodhi’s Steiner playgroup teacher explained it well to me the other week- having a predictable environment allows the child the confidence and security to go out and explore the world. And of course, the feeling of security is vital to the psychological development of a child of this age!

The surprising thing about all this, though- and here I finally come to my point!- is that I have found myself becoming more present to Bodhi within these rhythms. Stirring a pot together, eating morning tea on a blanket in the garden, cuddling each toy one by one as they go to bed- these have become our precious shared moments that I felt I was missing out on in play.

Being able to say, “Let’s go read stories now,” or “It’s time for a bath”, and seeing his face light up and watching him patter off down the hall to the book room or the bathroom has been a delight. I have become so much more anchored in the moment, and with him. I have also noticed that he is more stable in his emotions, and that joy pervades everything he does. It has also allowed me the ability to meet my needs within the family- mum and I can share parenting duties so I can study, or if I’ve had a wakeful night with him I can nap during the day. Having that framework that everyone is familiar with allows Bodhi to connect not only with me but his father and Nana as well.

So the thing I was perhaps most scared of- not meeting Bodhi’s needs- has actually turned out to be one of the things best met by our rhythm. All it takes is a little awareness.

Many of you will know about the recent “Hey, Facebook, breastfeeding is not obscene!” protest that happened on the social networking site recently. The following are the words of one Facebbok account holder, who had her account, and numerous valuable items deleted from the internet last week.
PLEASE feel free to copy and paste, and SPREAD THE WORD, via your blog, or other mothering groups you may belong to.



My name is Emma Kwasnica. I am a 30-year-old Canadian tandem-nursing mother living in Montréal, whose Facebook account has now been entirely disabled over the breastfeeding photos controversy (http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1869128,00.html). The official petition group on Facebook is called Hey Facebook, breastfeeding is NOT obscene! (http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2517126532). I am reaching out because I think you might be interested in the Facebook fiasco over breastfeeding images, and them being classified as “obscene, sexually explicit and pornographic”. Yes, I said *breastfeeding*. The most loving, selfless act on Earth.

For the record, my entire Facebook account has now been deleted, with no explanation from the administrators of Facebook. While they have not confirmed the reason for disabling my account, I can only suspect it stems from the fact that, in the days leading up to the disabling of my account, I had photos of me breastfeeding my daughters deleted, and was given a “warning” for having had uploaded “obscene” content that renders Facebook “unsafe for children”.

Given the amount of obscene, pornographic, and truly disturbing photos, applications and groups that proliferate across Facebook, I am stunned that this has happened to me. I am an aspiring midwife/Childbirth Educator/ Breastfeeding Counselor; I run a lively discussion group on Facebook called ‘Informed Choice : Birth and Beyond’ (http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=21515708855), and have been sharing all of my summarised research, studies, links regarding pregnancy, birth and motherhood with a group of nearly three hundred people, since July 2008. And now, everything that I ever wrote, all my photos, all of my midwifery-related research, has been deleted –right off the face of Facebook. Furthermore, this does not concern me alone, as many (over a hundred ?) other Facebook users had their posts deleted, too, since whole discussion threads were deleted into oblivion, if it was indeed me who began the thread (and 80% of the time, it *was* me who had started the threads, since this was my group, me sharing the most recent research relevant to the childbearing/-rearing woman).

Facebook has not responded to my e-mails politely enquiring why my account has been disabled. They remain faceless. Hence the reason why I am now reaching out and going public with my situation. I am desperate to get my words back, and most importantly, the general North American public needs to be made aware of Facebook’s disgusting double standards regarding “decency”. I am revolted to report that Facebook allows the likes of a group called “Dead Babies Make Me Laugh”, and yet, someone such as myself, who wants nothing but to inspire and help women on their journey to birthing healthy, vibrant babies, has her whole account deleted.

I have now done radio station interviews (a Sakatoon one, as well as Montréal’s 98.5 FM), and was interviewed for ‘La Presse’ newspaper here in Montréal, the article for which appeared in yesterday’s edition of ‘La Presse’ (http://technaute.cyberpresse.ca/nouvelles/internet/200901/04/01-814622-des-meres-en-croisade-contre-facebook.php), the English translation for which you will find below. I may be doing another one-hour long segment on the same Saskatoon radio station at some point this week.

There is a Canadian slant to this whole Facebook fiasco, in that the tireless organisor of the original online protest (http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=39521488436) is from Ottawa (Stephanie Muir), the TERA site that is currently the “safe haven” for breastfeeding photos which have been deleted by Facebook is a Canadian one (http://www.tera.ca/photos6.html), and is coordinated by Paul Rapoport of Hamilton, Ontario… and now, the only (known) person so far to have had their Facebook acount fully disabled over this issue –me, a Montreal mother.

Please help me by spreading the word of Facebook’s appalling actions (such as by posting this to your blog), and consider this an official plea to get the word out ! For the sake of the next generation of babies, people everywhere need to understand that the larger issue of normalising breastfeeding is deeply important here. In 2009, it is unacceptable that women feel shamed, or are sexualised, while providing the most normal, the most physiologically appropriate food for their babies : breastmilk.

Sincerely yours,
-Emma Kwasnica, Montréal

PS Here you will find the full-page newspaper article/image from Le Journal de Montréal (http://picasaweb.google.ca/emma.kwasnica/20081011BreastfeedingChallenge#5261616556288520402), in which I am breastfeeding my daughters. This is particularly relevant as Facebook has said that no major newspaper in North America would publish the type of breastfeeding photos that they have deleted. This simply isn’t true – this newspaper image (from October 2008) is living proof ! If Montreal, a city of over 3.5 million, can handle seeing this image in a daily newspaper, then why can’t Facebook ?


Daphné Cameron, La Presse
January 04, 2009

“Cover up this breast that I do not want to see.”

Even though it was written in the 17th century, Molière’s famous refrain is still à la mode for those who run Facebook’s networking site.

For several months now, photographs of mothers breastfeeding their children have been being deleted. The restriction has provoked anger in women all over the globe. In protest, 11,000 women replaced their profile picture with the image of a breastfeeding mother.

This online protest was organized for December 27th by Stephanie Muir, an Ottawa mother outraged by the website policy, that says that no “pornographic or sexually explicit” material may be uploaded to the site.

“It is unthinkable that in 2008, such a loving image, one of a mother breastfeeding her baby, can be perceived as sexual or offensive,” she said. “It’s because we stigmatise women in this way, that mothers make the choice not to breastfeed, or breastfeed for a shorter length of time.”

In additon to the web protest, a few dozen women assembled in front of the Facebook headquarters in California, and nursed their babies there.

The response by Facebook administrators was immediate. According to Stephanie Muir, accounts of several protestors were disabled.

This is the case of Montrealer Emma Kwasnica, who no longer has access to her personal account, since January 1st.

“Facebook began deleting photos of me breastfeeding my daughters on December 28th”, stated the 30-year-old who is studying to become a midwife. “A few days later, the administrators disabled my account with the only explanation being that I had uploaded obscene content. Breastfeeding is the most beautiful thing in the world. How does one automatically associate that with sex ?”

The protest organised by Stephanie Muir has provoked a media frenzy in the United States. Facebook reacted by publishing a press release that specified that only photos showing nipple or areola are banned.

Facebook reiterated that it is a private company which has the right to decide which content it hosts on its site.

My hopes for the year

January 1, 2009

Being the first day of a brand new year full of promise and hope, I thought I would record what I would like to see happen in my life over the next twelve months, so I can reflect on it this time next year.

In the area of self actualisation and renewal, I would like to see myself slow down. I want to embrace mindfulness and the vibrancy that lies within. I want to find a greater balance between being and doing, to live in the moment with the same veracity that Bodhi does. Becoming more aware of my sense of connectedness with the collective consciousness, planet and people is a big theme for me. I’d like to be able to harness energy in a different way, Reiki would be a great skill to learn. I want to get to the end of my healing path, cultivate empathy and be able to say that non-violent communication comes to me naturally and as a default state. I want to feel more grounded in my life.

In the area of wellbeing, I want to wean myself of the medication I currently take, as the last major chemical I put into my body except for food. I would love to sleep better, but that all depends on my little one, and frankly, his sleep-and-waking rhythm is more important to me right now! I’d like to take the step from being a pescatarian to vegetarian, both for moral and environmental reasons. I’d like to develop a bit more of a style. I need to exercise more regularly- Pilate’s and yoga for my back, chakra dance for body and soul wellbeing, and walking and perhaps swimming for cardiovascular health. I would like to return to my pre-pregnancy weight, and then shed some more.  Most of all, I want to be a good role model for Bodhi in the way that I nourish my body, and I cannot say that I do that a sufficient amount of the time now. This I need to do with urgency.

In the area of mothering, I want to continue to explore and celebrate this most sacred of my roles. My focus right now is helping Bodhi learn about his emotions, also setting boundaries that allow him to feel safe and secure. He is also discovering his autonomy, and I want to walk with him in this too. I look forward to a full year of Steiner playgroup and the beginning of our involvement with Chrysalis Steiner School. Perhaps, by the end of the year, we will be looking at having another baby, but perhaps not as well.

In the area of activism and community involvement, my major goal is to expand and direct Birth Healing so it can meet the goal of making birth a more peaceful event for all concerned. I would like to become more involved in peace and human rights issues, and be active in the Greens as well as the ABA. Another urgent issue for me is to become more sustainable in the way I live my life- take the big steps needed to be a wise and just planetary custodian.

This year is going to be a big one for my career. I am in the process of applying for accreditation with the Australian Counselling Association, and am looking at opening up a private practice soon, with both generalist and birth trauma related counselling. I look forward to finishing my last field placement and modules, and finally finally completing my course. My next step in my academic path will either be the final four modules to complete the degree in Applied Social Science, or a childbirth education course.

In terms of writing, I aim to finish the novel I am working on, to a stage where the manuscript is being sent to assessment services, agents and publishers. I also aim to self publish a book on birth trauma, and publish many articles on the issue on Birth Healing. Helping effect positive social change is something I aim to incorporate within everything I write, and I hope this may continue throughout the year.

For pure fun and enjoyment, I would like to continue to learn djembe and fire poi, and I would also like to learn to Belly Dance. I would like to travel more- Woodford Folk Festival is my ultimate, and I also fervently look forward to the East Coast Blues and Roots Festival.

In the area of home, this year will be especially significant. In six months we will be moving to Bellingen and setting down roots there. Having a gentle, rhythmic and peaceful home life is a priority and a sanctuary.

I’d like to extend our social network in Bellingen over the coming months, whilst still nurturing our friendships we have here. I want to learn to become a more skillful conversationalist, and be able to derive more energy from connecting with people. I would like to continue to have a vibrant relationship with Zai, based on the ability to strongly engage each other, create a greater sense of respect, playfulness, intimacy and connection and also to continue and deepen our tantric connection. I look forward to seeing my mother continue to recover, and embrace the gifts of closeness her illness has brought to us.

I amuse myself somewhat with my high ideals, and the amount I believe I can achieve in a year. However, indulgent as this is, it’s the spirit being it all that means to most to me. If this time next year, I can say I’ve lived a peaceful, creative, living life within my tribe, following my intuition, acting consciously and deepening my wisdom, I will feel it is a year truly lived.


December 25, 2008

This week, after two years absence, my menstrual flow returned.

Having such a long time without it gave me time to reflect on menstruation as a process and an event, and I now welcome it back with joy.

Before I fell pregnant, menstruation was all such an inconvenience to me at best, and draining, painful and uncomfortable at worst. I saw it as a hassle, something to be managed, a burden. It was embarrassing and a bit disgusting.

The universe has thrown at me many lessons concerning my body and my femininity since falling pregnant. Many of them, I can apply as wisdom to my flow (I use the word flow, as it sounds creative, positive and abundant).

I have learnt that nothing that happens in a woman’s (and indeed a man’s) body is anything less than miraculous, and charged with divinity.

I have learnt to not only trust in my body, but celebrate it, revel in it, and am constantly in awe of it.

I have learnt that “being” is as important in life as “doing”, and that self renewal is a vitally important task we all need to embrace more, for the health of ourselves, and of our global community.

My knowledge has been crystallised that we are, as women and as humans, simply animals, another part of the endlessly beautiful, diverse and divine family of Mother Earth. And I have learnt, given the space and time needed, our bodies and souls carry out their path in an equally divine and beautiful way.

I learnt the impact that modernisation and the need to “manage” natural bodily processes can have a traumatising effect on the self, and that through these attitudes, we can find ourselves far from where nature intended us to be.

I learnt to trust in my body, intuition and wisdom, if only in hindsight.

So as my flow returns, so do I return to it. And by return to it, I mean in a sense of returning to the wisdom and beauty in it that other and past cultures have held for it, for I regret to say I personally have never held reverence for it as a process, except in a purely biological, reproductive way.

And as wonderful as the gifts of biological ability and reproduction are, there are psychosocial aspects to menstruation as well, and these are not embraced, or even acknowledged in our culture.

Menstruation allows us to reconnect with the collectivity of the planet. Michelle Royce, in her book Moon Rites, states: “The moon’s constant journey through the heavens is most closely linked with the cycles of menstruation. It echoes the swelling belly of a pregnant woman and the cycle of nature itself, as seeds as planted, growing to fruitfulness, then withering and decaying, leaving new seeds in the dark soil to be reborn. As women were the first observable givers of life, and experienced lunar tides within their bodies, it is not surprising that the moon was generally seen as female.”

I think I have written previously about life being all about rhythm. This monthly cycle- of physicality, thoughts and feelings, and the vibrancy or darkness of soul- is one more deep, thrumming rhythm in the beautiful cacophony of life.

Royce goes on to say: “For the whole month, you may be caught up in your busy life of work, study or family duties. Once a month, however, your body gives a signal that it is time to take a few moments to consider yourself, your dreams, hopes and goals. You may choose this time to focus on cleansing yourself of negative thoughts and feelings, to create or celebrate something, or simply reflect on the past month.”

In some cultures, menstruating women stayed in areas apart from the rest of the tribe- the “red tent” concept- as menstruation was seen as such a potent and vital time, not just for the individual woman, but for the whole community. With respect given to the woman and the menstrual flow as a time of wisdom, she was able to tap into this universal consciousness and had dreams and insights that benefited the whole tribe and assisted and directed it’s path.

I just adore this idea, and it resonates with me as true wisdom and womanliness. I have attempted to incorporate these attitudes into my daily life during my flow- allowing more quiet time for reflection, meditating, and enjoying some solitude when I can.

I am also delighted (but perhaps not surprised) to find the “symptoms” of menstruation to be so much gentler now. Whilst I was almost incapacitated with pain before pregnancy, I have experienced little pain at all, and that which I have experienced, I have paused, sat with it, and been a part of the pain, rather than fighting it. I believe my attitudinal changes, and returning what I believe to be an attitude more in line with the universal intention, has helped make the physicality of it gentle and soft.

When thinking up this post in my head, I had considered writing a disclaimer at the top along the lines of “Stop! Do not read if you find womanly functions cringe worthy!” I chose not to, as that would have been going against the intention of the post. So if you have read this far, thank you. I hope it has brought you wisdom, or that you have wisdom you can share by commenting. Menstruation is just one more thing we could celebrate and share as community, and I would invite you do do this when you are next blessed with your flow.

(Michelle Royce’s book Moon Rites is published by Moon Diary Products-bbok celebrating her, and can be purchased at http://www.moondiary.com.au/sacred-rites-book.html )

I have been mostly satisfied with the Rudd Labour Government so far in their term. The long overdue signing of the Kyoto Protocol (even if it is arbitrary and non-binding) and the Apology to the Stolen Generations made me feel proud to be an Australian, which sadly, I often didn’t during the Howard years.

This week, though, Kevin Rudd has shown his leadership- and his action- to be lacking. Hugely lacking, in a way that will impact us all.

Rudd has announced a weak target of 5% reduction in carbon emissions by 2020 as part of the action taken to protect our environment. According to Christine Milne, National Spokesperson for the Greens, “Scientists agree that developed countries need to reduce their emissions by between 25 and 40 per cent by 2020 to avoid catastrophic climate change. Australia’s high per capita emissions and our relatively cheap emissions reduction potential means we need to be at the top of that range, not doing less than everyone else.”

Ray Nias, Australian Director of WWF said :”It commits Australia to long-term dangerous climate change [and] it will make Australia’s ability to negotiate global agreements very, very difficult.” The consequences of the weak targets are likely to include the death of the Great Barrier Reef, Kakadu and the Murray Darling River system in our grand children’s generation.

The 5% target, which may increase to a maximum of 15% if the world signs up to an effective climate pact, are a global embarrassment. However, with Australia’s position as a high polluter, and lack of appropriate action in this area, the chances of an “effective climate pact” are weakened as well.

John Conner, CEO of the Climate Institute, stated ”We’re ripping the heart out of momentum for a strong global deal.”

The plan, in addition to targets not substantial enough to avert environmental catastrophe, has many other flaws.

The emissions target is based on 1990 figures, and therefore nearly twenty years out of date.

The plan favours big business that impact heavily on the country’s emissions levels. Milne says “Only three per cent of funds will actually go to reducing emissions. Half of all the money raised by auctioning permits will go to big polluters. Not a single cent will be spent on helping householders reduce their energy use and emissions.”

Furthermore, individuals and small organisations trying to make a positive impact on climate change are undermined in the plan. The less emissions from individual households- say by putting up a solar panel- simply mean more permits are available in the system to others, including the major polluters.

Of the $12 billion dollar package, $10 billion will go to compensation and free permits to the business sector. Additionally, emissions from the logging industry will not be included, and neither will petrol for the first three years of the scheme and agriculture for the first five years.

To me, the package seems ludicrous. If it wasn’t so dire, I would find the ineptness of it all amusing. It appears, in our consumerist culture, that the planet is just another disposable item.

Learning and Growing

December 4, 2008

First and foremost, I believe learning and growing is not only a life long process, but also one of our most (if not the most) important psychosocial tasks we will undertake. To grow, to develop, is human. I have an image in my mind of the seed of a fig tree, slowly enveloping and enmeshing itself into the world around it, becoming the world around it, until it is something of beauty and strength. Our life paths are much like that.

Given the weight I place on learning therefore, it is not surprising that Bodhi’s education is something I have given much consideration to. Education is not something that will be limited to the thirteen or so years he will attend school (if he chooses too), but will be a part of everything he does, especially in his vital childhood years. So it was important to Zai and myself to find a framework in which Bodhi can develop to his full potential, whilst still having a strong sense of individuality and self.

Initially I did consider opting out of the education system altogether. Like any institution, schooling can place more emphasis on arbitrary outcomes and limited focus, rather than the individual needs and path of the incarnating child. I certainly felt dissatisfied with my experience with the public schooling system. At times I felt pigeon-holed into a two dimension version of myself- labelled as “a nerd”, the “star pupil” and the person to “bludge answers off” due to my ability to retain information deemed important. This had two main outcomes- firstly, I felt driven to achieve more and more and to never get less than excellent marks, as my worth as a person in school was judged my ability to sustain good marks. The second outcome was that it stifled my creative and potentially lively mind to question not only the education system but the whole world, and have a far wider and deeper learning journey. I was just too busy trying to meet (sometimes totally irrelevant) academic outcomes (I had long ago given up on the sporting side of school as it didn’t serve to sustain the two dimensional cutout of myself).

And so, for a while, we considered home schooling and unschooling approaches. I was able to look past the usual criticisms of these approaches: for example, that  are socially well adjusted (I think that some homeschooled children would fare better than those from schools where antisocial and behavioural problems are big issues- being surrounded by more people does not necessarily mean better social skills); or that homeschooled children cannot go on university (I have many friends who have). I had confidence in my ability to homeschool and let Bodhi direct his own learning.

My mother supplemented my own learning with home schooling during my primary school years, and it has helped me come to my belief that education is not, and should not, be solely the responsibility of the schooling system.

However, my heart was always with Steiner for Bodhi’s schooling. Even if I did home school, it would be with a Steiner approach.

Having made the decision to move to Bellingen last month, I rang the Chrysalis School for Steiner Education last week. I made the call so early, as I have had friends who have been on the waiting list for another Steiner school for a while, and also as I want Bodhi to experience the full scope of Steiner education from early childhood (he attends a lovely playgroup annexed by the Manning River Steiner School currently) onwards.

The Chrysalis School is tucked away in the Bellingen Hinterland, surrounded by communities and forest. What a perfect, beautiful setting to learn in! I love the name of the school, the images of being cocooned in the experience of discovering the world and the deeper self is so evocative for me. It offers pre-kindy (“little kindy”) to Year 8 and architecturally, is such a gorgeous and earthy place. It has a lot of good energy.

As phone calls go, I was immensely satisfied with the way the call went. The staff member spent quite a long time with me, talking me through the approach of that particular school. I didn’t feel processed at all, I felt important as the custodian of my child’s education, and I felt respected (something I did not always experience during my own schooling).

I sat out on the verandah next to the hibiscus bush, chatting about my dissatisfactions with the public school system and what drew me to Steiner. It was a sunny spring morning and I felt a strong sense of peace and journey in the moment.

Early this week we received the Chrysalis School prospectus in the mail. It was like recieving a present I was eager to open, and it just so happened that I had to drive for half an hour to pick up Mum before I could sit down and immerse myself in it.

Zai and I are now assured of our decision. Having this extra material, presently so positively and beautifully, cemented our view of Steiner and the Chrysalis School in particular as the most ideal partner in Bodhi’s growth and learning with us, and most importantly, Bodhi himself.

What draws me to the approach? The idea that resonates most with me is the education of the whole child, not just the parts of the child that are academic, or play a limited number of sports. There are many, many facets to an individual that can be elicited and nurtured during a lifetime, and the Steiner philosophy respects this and acts as a responsible custodian to that concept. A far greater emphasis is given to creativity in this ideology, and from my previous posts it is obvious that this is important to me. Community and personal responsibility are valued.

Also valued is individuality. School does not pace the child, the child had far more freedom to explore life at his or her own pace, and academic concepts are not introduced before the child is ready to understand them. In this way, education is not forcefed. Instead, children are allowed to be respected as children and not as adults-to-be. They can fully embrace the wonder of being, and being a child.

Another vitally important facet of the approach is the role of nature. I personally often feel disconnected with nature, due to the norms of modern society, and I feel loss and grief in this (I also endevour to reconcile myself with nature whenever I can). In Steiner, nature is part of everything and is inherent in many of the processes and procedures. For example, at playgroup, we knead and bake bread every morning, acknowledging the process that has brought us the bread mix; the environment is gentle, with wooden chairs, pastel coloured decorations and no electronic media or toys; and the toys are made from natural materials (something I am in the process of emulating at home).

Knowing my little boy so much, I know how much he will flourish and grow in such an environment. He already is, being involved in playgroup and the Steiner philosohpies we have brought into our home life. It is this symbiosis of home and school- called, above all, “learning” that I look forwardly to joyously sharing with Bodhi, Zai, our future children, and the Manning River and Chrysalis School communities over the coming years.

After Symbiosis- What then?

November 27, 2008

Bodhi is now thirteen months old. A toddler, if you insist on labels. And I am quickly learning that this age comes with many challenges!

 One challenge is finding our places as two separate selves. Bodhi has moved on from the lovely cocooned infant stage where he saw himself and I as one. In fact, if you get down to it, I did too. Not physically, but on some spiritual or emotional level, that strong bond of mama and baby, where we slept, ate and played in the same rhythm, that was a kind of oneness.

Bodhi now realises that we are separate. And that scares him. He is experiencing intense separation anxiety at the moment. His emotional state is highly mercurial, changeable and forceful. Some of this is due to normal stage development, and some of it is due to birth trauma.

I took Bodhi to my kinesiologist this week to address these and other symptoms he has been experiencing, to work on them and to ascertain whether it was developmental issues or birth trauma related as I suspected. What we found was that it was trauma, some physical- in the areas of the heart chakra and throat chakra along the spine- and some emotional. Bodhi has a deep wariness of the world, and sadly, does not feel safe. Much of the time when he is upset it is due to fear, and my placations only pacify him- they do not help him feel more secure.

As a connected and attached parent, this is one of the biggest challenges I could be given. Coming also from a counselling background, I understand how important building trust and security is to a young soul, and how laying these foundations will aid healthy development in all other stages for the rest of his life (these ideas come from Bowlby and Erikson and make interesting and informative reading). This young age is so paramount to healthy psychology and knowing that he has this fundamental fear is distressing.

At this point I could berate and blame myself, but I have chosen not to do that. Not only does that not achieve anything, or help resolve the problem, but it takes away my power to rectify the problem with my child. I do, however, need to grieve for this lost sense of trust in some way, which I am sure we will do together over the coming weeks.

To look on a more positive aspect of the issue, I believe I have caught this issue early on. Bodhi has only been manifesting this intense and volatile emotionality for about three or four weeks. I think perhaps part of it may be related to Mum’s stroke, the interruption that had on our lives and rhythm, and a lessened emotional and practical availabiltyavailability to Bodhi. And also, his growing and learning we are two separate entities.

Having brought the issue to awareness early, I believe it will be healed more effectively, and with less resistance and complication, than if it had been left to fester for some time.

The question now, is how to instill that trust of the world, and of my place as his mother, again. Again, because I do feel we had that secure base at one point.

The most obvious answer is to make sure I am physically available to Bodhi as much as possible. Now is not the time to get a job, or put him into daycare, or undertake any demanding projects. I can continue bonding activities- breastfeeding, co sleeping and having him in arms- which I would have done anyway. I can attempt to have a consistent, gentle, predictable home rhythm and not throw any major curve balls his way for a little while.

They are the answers that come to mind immediately. I think it is important, with this issue as in any other, to look deeper and perhaps meditate on other things that might help.

When I do this, the answers that I am given extend. I need to slow down with life. Not just for him, but for me as well: to be more aware of the moment, what the experience of “now” feels like, and to embrace and immerse myself in it. Young children have such a wonderfully innate sersesense of mindfulness, and slowing down in this way will help connect me with his experience exponentially.

I need to ensure the way I relate to my son is positive and nurturing- see the “Communication Manifesto” post, and in that way I will be more firmly connected. I also need to protect him from influences that aren’t conducive to feeling safe again- such as not exposing him to overstimulating things like television and toys with all the bells, whistles and batteries, or people who do not understand the psychological needs of young children. Of course, I can not and should not protect him from these things at all times, but for now, he needs a little extra cocooning and  a mama bear that can be equally ferocious and cuddly.

I can also try to tap into my intuition and inner wisdom even more. It has served me well and is my best mothering tool- it’s got me this far and brought the issue to awareness.

So as I move into this new stage of his development, whilst we are effected by his birth trauma issues, the answer to “How do I deal with this age?’ is at the moment, to continue what I am doing, and, where possible, connect deeper, trust my intuition stronger, and be present consistently, gently and lovingly.

When he is ready, life will have new challenges for us. But for now, I thank the universe for allowing me the challenge to show my motherly love and devotion even more.