Always open to surprises

Over a year ago, I enrolled my son in Karate classes. I would have probably done this in the States without much of a second thought, but in this environment, I wanted to be very careful that he wasn't learning to fight and was learning more of the personal and spiritual principles of the martial arts. At the recommendation of several friends, I enrolled him at one of the bigger studios in Ramallah where the staff and teachers always greet the students and parents with smiles and a warm welcome. A friend cautioned me that I might witness a little more "contact" than what they'd probably allow in the States, but that the teachers also spend quite a bit of time lecturing on principles. Near the end of the first class that I observed, the teachers took a pair of similar-sized students, secured head masks/helmets on them, and the kids would be free to "fight." After three brief rounds, a winner would be declared. Even after a year, I wince every time I see this part of class.

Until recently, my son has had little interest in volunteering for these fights, and I've always breathed a sigh of relief. Last week however, he felt a sudden spark of boldness and was begging the teacher to choose him for the fight. The teacher finally chose him and when he rose to his feet, I noticed that the student he would be paired up with was going to be a girl. I'm sure there was an audible groan that escaped my throat as I thought, "Oh no, if he loses against a girl he is going to be devastated." Well, my son kicked and chopped valiantly, but alas, after three rounds, the girl was declared the winner. I noticed the dejected look on his face and was curious to watch how his 7 year old emotional maturity was going to handle it. He sat back down on the floor with the group, his face turned downward to the floor. The teacher gave him a pat on the back, and demonstrated how his kicks needed to be higher. After the teacher returned to the center of the room, the girl came over and said something to him. I assumed it was a taunting remark but in retrospect, I'm not so sure. Then, a few seconds later, I see the older boys circle around him on the floor, and start patting him on the back and talking to him. My son raised his head and smiled.

I was completely surprised at what I had witnessed. Here in Palestine, my son is subjected to uninterrupted taunting, teasing and bullying at school and on the playground. Not to mention on the street (last week, a teenager passing him on the street made a swipe at him with a metal pole – I was walking about 5 feet away from him and was just shocked!). I didn't think children were taught how to be sympathetic or how to take even the smallest action of kindness towards another child. It lightened my spirit and gave me a small sense of hope that maybe there is the potential for a different future here for the children of Palestine.

Peace Unto You

The weather has turned cold here, and while I've certainly lived in much colder climates, the houses and buildings are so poorly built that they have no capacity to insulate against the outdoor temperatures. Some days I feel like I have a permanent chill in my bones. I finally figured out the heating system in my house, resulting in relative equilibrium in the temperature between the first and second floor of the apartment. But due to the absence of thermostats and the very high heating oil prices, I can only really run the heat for 3-4 hours per day – an hour in the morning and a few in the evening before bedtime. Flannel pjs and sheets, and extra blankets are de rigueur in this house during the winter. And otherwise, I've been trying to fill my body with warm teas and soups, and other ayurveda appropriate foods. After a month long hiatus, I got out my yoga mat to see if that would help build some heat as well especially to start my day in the chilly morning.

I didn't immediately realize how much my body needed that morning routine. True, something was off – not only was I suffering from the cold, but I was snapping at my son and colleagues, I was going to bed early and waking up in the middle of the night. I figured travel is quite disruptive so I just needed some time to re-adjust. Then on the third day of re-launching my yoga practice, I kicked up into a handstand and when I came back down, I felt this incredible calm and silence in my heart. I couldn't move, I did not want to move. The sense of peace was full.

When I was young, my favorite part of Sunday mass at the Catholic Church I attended with my family was the kiss of peace. Everybody would turn to their neighbors, shake hands and wish them, "Peace be with you." In saying this, I always imagined that peace was something that would come externally from a person, and settle onto their shoulders. And then all their worries would somehow disappear and they would be filled with peace. However, I realized recently that peace is not something that comes from the outside to "be with you." It is something that comes from the inside. It's an inner sense in which fear, worry, anger, sadness are not present. Peace is not something somebody can give you, or make for your, or even, I start to think "negotiate"?

A friend sent me a card a few years back with this quote on it, "Peace is not the absence of noise, trouble or hard work. It is to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart." It is actually kind of nice not to be in the States at this time of year where the mad Christmas rush is all about noise, noise, noise. Here, Christmas can only be what you decide to make of it. The pace at work has slowed which is a nice change to what I experienced in October and November. Our Christmas tree is up, and my son eagerly jumps out of bed each morning to open one more door of his advent calendar to reveal some small piece of chocolate shaped into a seasonal object. I experience a small sense of joy in seeing that wondrous smile on his face every morning, even if the motivator is chocolate. In the evenings, we wrap ourselves into layers of blankets, sit on the couch in front of our Christmas tree and giggle our way through another children's book. Feigning the lagging of the flu I experienced when I returned from France, I convince him to read the book to me, and I feel such a sense of inner peace, that I start to giggle at the silliness of the children's story. The giggle is contagious and my son and I are soon wrapped in peals of laughter. When the book ends I realize that I feel warm, cozy and completely at peace.

Remaking or Remade?

We're in the midst of an office move again. I don't know if it's unique to the organization I work for, but over the past 5 years, I have averaged an office move every 6 months. A year ago I was put into this beautiful corner office which overlooks a flower garden. A few months back, my office mate resigned and I have since had the office space to myself. I find little ways each day to make it my own. I've played with the desk configuration and the window blinds. I have been rewarded by a wonderful, soft sunlight that hits the office at all hours of the day, which seems so important during these short, gray, rain-filled winter months. When the latest round of office moves was announced I was pleasantly surprised to see no change in my current office status. When one of my favorite colleagues came in yesterday morning asking me if I would consider changing offices so her three staff members could sit in one room, I didn't even have a moment to think before the answer flew out of my mouth, "No." Of course its sounds a little melodramatic to insist on keeping the office because of the sunlight, so I told her that I would not stand in the way or fight any decisions which were made to change this decision. Truth be told, I've managed to be productive in so many other office set-ups (including open cubicle space where 5 other colleagues would be talking simultaneously on overseas phone lines) that I can manage to find productivity in just about any space. But I'm not really mentally ready to re-make my office environment at this point.

I find there are several trends that seem to rear up in my life continuously as if they are presented to me as learning opportunities to improve some immeasurable life skill. The ability to face and manage change is certainly one of them. I feel that I've almost reached the level of Zen on that one – colleagues resign (check!), friends get sick (check!), people get divorced (check!). I think there is a bigger wave of change coming towards me on the horizon and I am trying to brace myself in anticipation; anticipation of some seasickness, a lot of discomfort, mixed with a good dose of anxiety, but to conclude with a greater sense of self and peace.

A friend I see not so often asked me for the second time in 2 years, "Do you ever consider that it is time to put some effort into remaking your life since the divorce?" The first time, I thought I misheard her and just kind of mumbled some (probably joking) reply. This most recent time she asked me, I stopped, took a deep breath, looked her straight in the eye and said, "That is what I'm doing, I mean, what I've done." She didn't have much of a reply and I wasn't sure if we were on the same planet.

Maybe it is my own selfish self-reflection, but the energy and effort it took on my part (not to mention the help and support of so many people around me) to manage to continue to build my career, provide for my son, maintain custody of my son, maintain ownership and care of my house, and basically…LIVE….was no small feat in the ashes of the divorce. I already Remade my life in my mind. From friend's perspective, though, I think she sees my life as still "unmade" without a partner in my life to share it with. Funny how this is just the internal debate I have with myself on a daily basis. For somebody, albeit a friend, to express this verbally to me felt like a slap in the face. This whole, "I don't need a man in my life to consider it remade" thing had finally begun to ring true for me, and now I am back tracking to try to determine if this is just another learning opportunity that I have to re-face, or if in fact I need to completely re-visit this belief once again.

Can I not allow for some imperfect or undone or unfinished part of my life to exist without saying it is still a "remade" life? If I made my bed this morning, but there are still some wrinkles in the sheets, do I consider the bed unmade?