Has It Come To This?

Has it come to this? Have my children finally stepped over to the dark side? The one where all I hear is English, English, English all day long?

My children still speak German with me and my husband. I can revel in that joy (thank goodness) but that is about where it ends. Outside of the Mama-Papa sphere, English has taken over my children like an annoying virus.

My oldest insists that knights only speak English and therefore feels it is important to speak English when he is being a knight (which is pretty much 24/7 these days). My husband responds with a clearly worded (German) defense about how the shows my son has watched or books that he has read about knights have been translated from German or French or Spanish (etc.) into English. HAH, isn't my husband a tricky guy? He argues that the true language of knights are not English and therefore my son is not being completely authentic.

Ok, let's stop here to accept the fact that my husband is completely tinkering with the mind of our 6 year old - all in the name of language preservation! What will my son say to himself later down the road when he reads about all of those English-speaking knights in the British Isles? Will he turn to my husband and say, "Papa, I have lost all respect. It is over. I will never trust you again. You lied to me when I was 6 and you will forever have to bear the pain of that lie." Or will he simply throw it into the pile with the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy (we have yet to add her to our repertoire of fantasy figures who will one day be dispelled) once he learns the truth about them?

Aside from the fact that my husband told a blatant lie to my son to encourage him to speak German, it still didn't work. My son doesn't buy into that kind of weak argument. He is 6 years old and wants proof. We do have ONE book in German about knights which could be used as some kind of proof but what's the point, the English books win out 100 to 1 every time.

My husband feels frustrated and deflated. Course, that is what he gets for trying to win a battle of wits with his own 6 year old son!

I, on the other hand, focus on that age-old method of encouragement: when I hear English spoken between the kids, I call out "Hey, what about German?" Or, "Wouldn't it be fun to also play together in German?" But what is the use? To obtain the desired effect, my kids first have to hear me (HAH, like that will ever happen) and then I have to capture their hearts with my loving appeal which is hard to accomplish since they are still in the "what will I get out of it" stage of life.

The truth is, this is where our best laid out plans go their own merry way and we can't really do much about it other than try to steer things in a general direction.

For example, I insist that they speak with me in German by simply not responding when they speak to me in English (which is extremely rare so I can still go about it in a humorous, fun way). And I still continue to speak German with them (although, I do have to admit that I mix in a good amount of English words when I don't know the German equivalent).

I also know that in the end it is about enjoying the ride.

My husband and I are on the next stage of the roller coaster ride... things aren't as bumpy as before but we are still reminded that we haven't made it back to the platform either. We gotta keep our hands on the rail but other than that, wow, isn't this fun!? Wheeee!

Your Children Are My Children

When the Dalai Lama spoke of fostering compassion at the Seeds of Compassion events in Seattle, he brought up a concept which we often speak of but rarely practice with consistency (myself included). It is a concept which most of us don't even know HOW to foster on a daily basis.

This concept is caring for other children as we care for our own.

When we care for our own children, we want the best for them, no matter how they are behaving. We want to foster kindness in our children and self-esteem. We want them to wake up each morning full of joyful anticipation and snuggle into bed at night overflowing with feelings of safety and comfort. When our children grow older and get into trouble at school or engage in activities which harm them, we still love them with all of our hearts and want nothing more than to help them find their way in life again.

The Dalai Lama asks whether we can learn to feel a similar level of care for children other than our own who come into in our lives. Could we learn to feel a similar sense of responsibility and love for the children in our neighborhood, our children's school buddies, the children of our family friends as we do our own children?

I can't imagine that the Dalai Lama would expect us to have exactly the same degree of attentiveness. The point isn't to exhaust ourselves by focusing on the needs of every child with which we come into contact. If it is possible, then fabulous!

From listening to the Dalai Lama, my understanding is that he believes that we DO have the capacity to experience this level of care for ALL children in our lives. And if we continually fostered this level of care and concern every day of our lives, our world would be filled with a far greater level of compassion on a global scale. Remember: he says that when we give others true compassion, we ultimately foster compassion in the world as a whole.

What I have been doing lately is giving a truly conscious effort to see the good and precious and sacred in every child that crosses my path. Sometimes it isn't easy but I think it is less because I don't feel compassion but that I simply don't have the same natural level of connection that I do with my own children. It takes making an actual effort.

Of course, there are some kids that just drive me up the wall. They grate on my nerves and sometimes even intimidate me. Finding compassion for them can take more concentrated effort! However, they too receive a compassionate attentiveness from me. In fact, what I found is that once I give the effort to truly see these children and foster a care for them, I often end up experiencing an even deeper sense of compassion. It is possible to see the reasons that make them act the way that they do, and how can we not be compassionate for that!

How does the Dalai Lama expect us to get to the point where we can experience this sense of universal compassion for children in our hearts? How do we find what he calls unbiased or unlimited compassion?

He encourages us to perform a kind of contemplate meditation: to give deep thought about what it means to feel compassion toward all children. He firmly believes that it IS possible for each and every one of us to reach this point of compassion. Isn't that an absolutely decadent concept? The richness of a world filled with compassion and the desire for mutual understanding.

All that having been said...

Tonight I'm working hard to experience that abundance of pure and natural compassion for (1) my 4-year-old son who just threw a fit because he couldn't play the Sendung mit der Maus online games because it is way past bedtime, (2) my 6-year-old son who was supposed to be getting ready for bed but instead came into the livingroom with some kind of messy goop all over his foot and cried out, "Hey, look at my new shoe! HAH!" and (3) my 3-year-old daughter who received a sticker for this evening's homeschooling work but in the last 5 minutes has changed her mind about which sticker she wants at least ten times (each time crumpling the current sticker in her hand).

Ahhhh, the joys of finding compassion for our own children. Maybe the Dalai Lama had it all backwards? Could it be that the true task is to learn to have as much compassion for our own children as our sweet, kind, perfect, lovely neighbor children? Hmmm, next time I have the chance I'll ask him.

Either way, I'm sure the Dalai Lama would say to me: "Compassion begins at home!"

Why Should I Speak It If You Don't?

My husband and I often speak English with one another. In fact, we speak English with one another most of the time. It comes naturally since that was the language we spoke when we met 16 years ago on the Emerald Isle of Ireland, in Mary Ryan's Hostel in Galway. Wow, 16 years!!

I didn't speak a word of German at the time and my future husband was in Ireland to speak English - so it all worked out well. Of course, he wasn't looking for a future American wife and I wasn't looking for a future German husband. We were there to meet the Irish! Not other foreigners!

Well, be it as it may, we fell in love and I ended up taking a leave of absence from my studies to spend two years in Germany with my future husband where we finally tied the knot and moved to Seattle, Washington.

While in Germany I spent grueling hours at the Volkshochschule followed by even more grueling hours at the university in Kiel learning German. Textwiedergabe - I remember that word clearly and it can still bring dread up my spine and fear into my heart. The ultimate of torture touted as "learning German." Ugh, I can still remember sitting there with my pencil poised for the moment of truth.

That coupled with trying to pronounce the letters ä, ö and ü while a kind-hearted teacher squishes your mouth into place was enough to make me want to fall to the floor and plead for mercy. "Try saying "eee" while rounding your lips like this," the teacher would say. "Ok, yea, I get it but now how do I remember all of that while trying to use that sound in the middle of a word which is in the middle of a sentence!?" would be my exasperated reply.

In any case, tonight my 6-year-old son heard my husband and I speaking English with one another and promptly said to us (in German), "Why are us kids supposed to speak German together while you two speak English with one another?" My husband and I looked at one another and and said (in German), "You are right! We should be speaking German. Ok, here is the deal, we'll speak German with one another from now on and you'll agree to speak more German with your siblings, ok?" Our son pursed his lips to think about the deal. He clearly smelled something rotten. And then I quickly added, "And you stop calling me Corey and just call me Mama from now on, ok?" Our son started to look at us with clear suspicion while my husband topped it off with, "And you will always call me Papa, ok?"

Well, let's just say that we all eventually shook on it and agreed to the terms. Whether my son has any idea of what he really agreed to will be seen soon enough. I think he would have agreed to anything just to get the heck away from his crazy, begging, pleading parents.

Is this what a bilingual family has come down to? Making language deals over the dinner table? Well, if it works it is worth it right? I guess I had better remember to speak German with my husband from now on! I mean, a deal IS a deal, right?

Stop Calling Me That!

My children have developed a bilingual habit which is starting to drive me crazy!

At the beginning, when my children first started speaking, they called me "Mama." I identified myself to them as Mama and so they followed suit. This all came very naturally and easily and I gave it very little thought.

Me=Mama and their father=Papa.

That was until I started noticing that my children were saying "Corey" much of the time. I noticed it most when they were speaking to one another (vs. speaking to me) and figured it was just a cute way for them to identify me by my given name. Little did I realize that it was going to start driving me crazy with frustration.

It wasn't until recently that I noticed that they were saying Corey when in conversation with one another in English. And that they were even calling out to me saying Corey rather than Mama! For example, if they were playing in the living room in English and wanted to get my attention, they'd call out, "Corey!" And if an English-speaking person was around with whom they were speaking, they would use the name Corey when talking about me to them!

Everyone we know thinks it is absolutely adorable. "How cute that they call you Corey!" they say.

And what about me? What do I think about it? It is making me want to sit those little bilinguals down and give them a long lesson in linguistics.

Instead, I started by asking them (calmly) why they call me Corey instead of Mama. They clearly identified the situation by stating matter-of-factly that when they speak English they say Corey and when they speak German they say Mama. "Mama is German, Corey is English," they tell me full of conviction. As if they were teaching me the translation of my name in each language!

After a while I started bugging them about it. "I wish you'd just call me Mama all of the time. I am still your Mama whether you are speaking English or German." They looked at me with a questionable look and said, "We'll think about it."

Ah, so, is that where things have progressed? They get to decide what they want to call me after a joint bilingual sibling consultation? Am I to have no say in the matter? I'm their Mama for goodness sakes!

As of today, they still call me Corey in English and Mama in German. They have not been convinced by my explanations and pleading in the least.

But little do they know that I have raised the stakes (or lowered my pride) and I now shamelessly complain to them in nothing less than a childish manner. "It makes me so sad when you call me Corey. Don't call me that anymore, ok? Just call me Mama all of the time!" I am delighted to say that I did stop short of bribery: "If you only call me Mama from now on I'll give you some candy!"

In the end, I realize that I have little say in the matter. My 6, 4 and 3 year olds are bilinguals destined to make language choices based on nothing but what makes most sense to them. That is their right to use language as they see fit, isn't it?

I can go blue in the face complaining, begging and insisting but I fear that when push comes to shove, I'll forever be half Mama and half Corey in the eyes of my little bilinguals. I guess there are worse things to worry about! At least they are still speaking German with me.

Seeds of Compassion: The Roving Reporter (or not)

Sorry for the delay in posting about the Dalai Lama. Talk about poor reporting etiquette!

It isn't that I didn't want to continue blogging about this tremendous event. It was simply the fact that when it comes down to it, I am only part roving reporter and mainly a mom of three kids, an employee for a software company and a wife to a busy parent. First things first.

However, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed my few days of being the roving reporter: chasing the story as it unfolds, capturing photos which embody each event, taking copious notes, driving from event to event, packing my camera bag each night with only essentials (digital SLR, video camera, pad of paper and pen, press passes, two apples for moments of hunger, and numerous forms of identification) knowing that I'd have to be ready to act quickly: living the lean and mean life of a reporter.

Well, let's say, I enjoyed IMAGINING that I was the lean and mean roving reporter. The reality is I ended up promptly coming down with a cold (sore throat, cough, runny nose and head ache). I believe it was because rather than being the "mean and lean roving reporter," of my imagination, I am, in reality, the "stress-case, worried, anxious roving reporter." I'm sure in time I'd work out all of these stress-related reporter kinks but it didn't happen in the last week, that's for sure, and took its toll on my health.

Here are some roving reporter highlights:

I was annoyed to no end for having to pay $25 to park in the Qwest field parking garage on the 6th floor (the press entry was there) and for not having found alternative parking ahead of time. Other reporters were annoyed as well but just laughed and said, "Ah well, at least we can expense it." A clear difference between me the little freelance reporter (where expensing means adding it to her tax return somewhere) and those who work for someone else who takes care of all of the tax details.

I was constantly worried that I'd get stuck in traffic and miss something (anyone who lives in Seattle will know what I mean: traffic is either great or suddenly horrible stop-and-go for miles and miles).

"Did I remember my press passes?" I'd ask myself a few times each morning. Then I'd wonder, "Did I recharge the camera battery?" or "Where did I put my keys again?"

Being that I wanted to do it all (take great photos, write up the most important highlights of the event, video tape just the right bits, interview some insightful people, purchase just a few pieces of memorabilia) I was always a little frantic. I'm sure those around me started feeling freaked out just watching me!

For goodness sakes, I was there to see and listen to the Dalai Lama and here I was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted - all from my own silly desire to do it all.

However, not all was lost on my frenetic silliness.

There were moments when I just put my photographic equipment away, breathed a sigh and let the moment fill me with awesome joy. Yes, there were moments when I even became teary-eyed and couldn't imagine being happier and more content. It wasn't always just from the words of the Dalai Lama. It was from looking around and seeing the faces of others caught up in the moment. It was from the rawness of the moment - people letting themselves feel vulnerable and open, teary-eyed and connected on a deep level.

Which brings me to my difficult relationship with groups: On the one hand I love being a part of them but on the other hand I feel confined and defensive. I often have a hard time letting go and losing myself when in a group of people. Someone is talking a few rows back, the speaker's voice grates on my nerves a bit, the sound system lacks in quality. I tend to prefer letting go and finding enlightenment alone on my own terms.

Yet on the other hand, I delight just being part of something large and all-consuming. When I looked around the stadium at each event I was captured by the fact that so many people were all sitting in one place at the same time hearing the same words and seeing the same images as me. For that it doesn't really matter whether someone is sitting right next to the Dalai Lama or on the other side of the stadium. The feel of the weight of the moment is powerful regardless.

Therefore, I am not quite sure what to say in terms of "reporting" on the Dalai Lama event. What can I say that can truly capture the event?

This is what I have taken from the series of events which I attended:

Find out what works for you. Compassion is not necessarily about any religion in particular, it isn't even about spirituality if viewing it through that lens turns you off. It is about finding what works for you so that you can go from understanding and conceptualizing compassion to acting on it to make the world a better place for our children (and ourselves). If that is through a religious context then that is wonderful, if it isn't, then that is wonderful too.

The Dalai Lama encourages a kind of contemplative, analytical meditation for creating compassion in our lives. It is an engaging task, not something in which we sit on the sidelines and watch. How we go about this analytical meditation is again based on our personality. Perhaps we need to set aside an hour each day for contemplation? Or maybe we can at least commit to turning off the radio in the car during our commute and spending that time on contemplation? Or maybe we should put on some soothing music for half and hour and spend that time contemplating our lives and how we can foster more compassion? The key is simply taking the time to focus on this rather than assuming it will just magically happen.

This kind of analytical contemplation is an interactive one. It may mean we need to start by looking at our lives and asking some hard questions (and then acting on changing things for the better). What is holding us up from finding true compassion for ourselves and others in our lives? Are there things in our lives which are straining our nerves and causing us to have a short fuse with others? What can we do to solve this?

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the Dalai Lama discusses two different kinds of compassion: the biased=limited one and the unbiased=unlimited one. We need to strive to imbue our lives with the unbiased=unlimited one. This kind of compassion is about being able to understand another person, country, custom, event even if we aren't in agreement. It isn't about condoning actions but about understanding where others are coming from via their perspective and moving toward them from that standpoint. This isn't easy without giving it some effort and concentration.

Action is key. We can think about compassion, feel compassionate and want to be compassionate with others but then we need to actually do something about it. This starts with ourselves, then our children and spouses, then our mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers, then out to other family and friends, communities, neighborhoods and as wide as possible. We make sure to spend alone time to reflect and recharge. We take the time to be truly present with our children and spouse. We join with our communities to renovate parks and collect donations for the poor. We volunteer at local food banks and volunteer at events. We find things which fit with our personalities (some people aren't as out-going so maybe they can volunteer behind the scenes rather out front with the public).

Compassion feeds the soul. The Dalai Lama reminds us that through such compassionate actions, we will be feeding our soul, our heart, our minds, our spirits. Whatever we want to call it, through compassionate acts we get in touch with our true selves and find that warmth inside. It is the most satisfying food we can feed ourselves. It is ironic in some ways but through true acts of compassion, we gain the greatest benefits! How very selfish in some delightful way.

Viewed historically, the primary concepts about which the Dalai Lama speaks are really nothing new. People have been discussing such things for hundreds and hundreds of years. However, having the Dalai Lama come to town (or other such spiritual leaders) is a kind of reminder for us all. A wake-up call even. His words remind me that as a country, I feel the United States has become very cynical. Getting in touch with the more raw and vulnerable bits of ourselves is seen as weakness, and weakness is not a good quality in the "home of the free." Praiseworthy are often qualities such as wealthy, cool, popular, busy, efficient, tireless, reliable. Sure, we don't necessarily admit this but these traits come up as praiseworthy in casual conversations all of the time. And our children watch and learn this from us. They learn that making a lot of money is something to strive toward, that being number one and at the top is what we should all strive toward, that having lots of friends is better than knowing only a few people.

To end, I apologize for this not being a traditional report about the Dalai Lama's visit to Seattle. I find that since each of his events are available via the Seeds of Compassion website, that my personal reflections inspired by his visit may also have some value here. I know that many of you are reading my blog and I appreciate your emails! They are full of wonderful insights, thoughts and reflections!

Finally, I leave you with a comment from a baggy-pants teenager after the Monday event. I listened as he and his buddies chatted on the way out:

"I couldn't understand a thing that guy said. But he was really cute, wasn't he? A really nice, funny guy."

I'm sure the Dalai Lama would have loved the reference to himself as "that guy" and that what was remembered was that he was cute, nice and funny.

Seeds of Compassion, Day 3: Bringing the Children Together

What a crowd today! What happens when thousands of school-age children come together in one stadium to see the Dalai Lama? You get an excitement and energy like none other!

Today the Key Arena in Seattle was filled with children bussed in from all around the Seattle area. It was hard to even get into the media entrance with so many chattering and excited children and teachers waiting in masses outside! I'm sure much of the fun for everyone there was getting out of the classroom on a Monday!

Inside the stadium was teeming with a buzzing of voices, laughter, shouting and noise. During the event, children were cheering from their seats, clapping after every presentation and deafened the stadium when the 7th grade international children's ambassador went onto the stage and spoke to the crowd. Perhaps this is what happens when you get a bunch of children together: fun! Is it as the Dalai Lama says: children are simply more honest about what is in their hearts.

What was most inspiring about having the Dalai Lama here in Seattle was the permission he gave us to be open, fragile, vulnerable and, yes, compassionate. I do believe we need to give ourselves permission to experience what it feels like to be compassionate - to allow our hearts to fill with love (rather than cynicism), to fill with joy (rather than fear), to fill with forgiveness (rather than competition). We have to make a conscious effort to push away everything which tells us that financial success and economic accomplishment the most important. It can be extremely hard to consider that those statements are actually off track - I feel the pull of it every day around me!

What happened to allowing ourselves to be human? Perhaps when we allow ourselves to be full human beings (wise, fragile, intelligent, insecure, alive) we will automatically remember what compassion is all about? I'm not sure but I sometimes believe that when I let down my guard and throw off all of the weights of society pushing me down that I am instantly able to be compassionate again (and in turn to be a better member of society). Sometimes I think it is so easy: just let go and let myself fall into the direction my soul is taking me.

I have a bunch of photos but haven't yet got around to sorting through them. I'm not sure how to present them: Should I do a photo blog or just add them back into the previous blogs.?I'll have to think about how to best go about it. Until then I'll leave everyone with the link to today's amazing event: www.seedsofcompassion.net/webcast/index.html (go to the Children & Youth Day event).

Kind thoughts to every one of you out there!