USA: Moving On – Taking Brain and Heart Along

USA: Moving On – Taking Brain and Heart Along

sophia-dad-reunionThe last time I saw my father was in March 1991. In July 2016, after 25 years and many more questions, I finally saw him again.

Leading up to the day he was coming, I kept wondering what it would be like to see him after so long. Would we both cry? Would I be happy, or mad, or something I didn’t yet know? So it was fairly perplexing to discover that I’d react as if I had just seen him the previous week.

My older brothers, my husband, my oldest niece and I picked him up along with my youngest brother, whom I hadn’t yet met. The airport was busy with people and taxi drivers bustling about, which made the experience kind of surreal, as if experiencing it from outside of myself with ‘Café sounds’ playing as mood music in the background.

We all hugged, got in our cars and drove to my mom’s house. I was really curious to see what my parents’ first in-person interaction in 25 years would be like. There were no fireworks and no war-like explosions; just hugs and excited happy voices.

I pulled my husband to the side later that evening and explained how weird it was to not feel anything extreme. How could I not want to cry from seeing my father and my youngest brother? How could I not want to yell in frustration for having so many questions left unanswered? In the end, I theorized that because I already knew that I wouldn’t be getting any answers, I was mentally and emotionally prepared for this very special encounter.

Although we were around one another here and there for about two weeks, it was only toward the end of my stay that my father and I had ‘the’ conversation. We were at the beach, and he was by the water, standing alone. I walked over to take a food order from him, and he said: “Listen, I am really sorry for not being in your life, but all that is in the past, and I hope we can move forward with a new life. Okay?”

I could see it was a difficult sentiment for him to get out, as he could barely look at me as he spoke. It seemed that he wanted to let me know how bad he felt, but he wasn’t going to get into it, whatever his reasons were.

All I could do, given where we were, was say “okay”, smile, and take his food order. On my way back to the restaurant at the beach I couldn’t help but analyze my response. I was a bit incredulous at myself, but I also knew this wasn’t the place to have ‘the’ conversation with my dad.

The sum of the experience, for me, was to learn that life presents us with a myriad situations in which innumerable people are involved. Sometimes we find the strength to ask questions to find closure, and sometimes we don’t. Sometimes we ask the questions and we get answers, and other times we don’t. What do we do then, when there are no answers but the answer-bearers are alive?

We can come up with as many solutions for this as there are people, but I found that my lesson was to let it go and agree that it’s all in the past.

Finding closure for yourself can be difficult, but if you pretend that there is no other way (for instance, if you wanted to ask Michael Jackson how many times he rehearsed The Man in the Mirror, you couldn’t do so, and you’d have to be at peace with that), then I believe you can put your mind to accepting that you can move on, taking your brain and your heart with you and have closure regardless.

What are some of your experiences in which you wanted closure but couldn’t get it? What did you do about it? Does it affect your parenting in any way?

This is an original post to World Moms Network by Sophia of ThinkSayBe. Photo credit to the author.

ThinkSayBe

I am a mom amongst some other titles life has fortunately given me. I love photography & the reward of someone being really happy about a photo I took of her/him. I work, I study, I try to pay attention to life. I like writing. I don't understand many things...especially why humans treat each other & other living & inanimate things so vilely sometimes. I like to be an idealist, but when most fails, I do my best to not be a pessimist: Life itself is entirely too beautiful, amazing & inspiring to forget that it is!

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INDONESIA: Moms, Stop Feeling Guilty

INDONESIA: Moms, Stop Feeling Guilty

indonesia - maureenBut I feel guilty…” she lowered her gazed and we all sensed how difficult it was for her to admit that.

Please don’t be.” One of the ladies chimed in.

Yes, please don’t feel bad. It is completely OK to getaway from motherhood for a bit.” Another adds their encouraging words.

As I sat there with 9 other women, all from different backgrounds; We got to learn, to understand and build more compassion towards others during the Joyful Living Retreat. I realized how many mothers feel that way too and how much I can relate to what the other ladies were sharing.

The guilt.

The guilt that weighs on mothers whenever they decide to do something for themselves; Where does it come from? Is it from unrealistic expectations we impose on ourselves? That we are the main caretakers, the one who holds the family together? There seems to be this invisible high bar we moms set ourselves up for.

Clean tidy home, Pinterest-worthy meals for the family, crafty fun for the kids, baby sign language, anyone?

I have been there before.

In the midst of juggling and keeping everything together, I sadly lost myself. I Lost my bearings. When I was still married, I was a helicopter mom who couldn’t leave my boy alone without feeling anxious and worried even when the ex-husband encouraged me to do so. I can’t understand that period, as it was quite hazy and blurry.

It’s easy for us moms to give and give and give even more. It all comes naturally with the territory of being a mother, isn’t it?

It took me quite a long time to shed that same guilt from my dictionary. Actually, it wasn’t until I became a single mom that I realized how important my “me-time” really is. For my own sanity and for my child’s happiness, it is crucial to have a sane mother. Don’t they say happy moms will have happy children?

Now, I make sure I refuel my love tank by doing what I love and knowing how healthy it is to do so sets me free from guilt. It is not selfish! It is healthy to make time for us to do what we love, to enjoy life. We really can’t pour from an empty cup and to fill that cup I recognized I must allow myself to be the woman I really am. For me, this started with working out, with having coffee with friends sans kids, to traveling out of town (and out of the country) without my son.

By nurturing the real Maureen, I am nurturing the mother of my child and I truly feel I am a much better mother when I am happy.

I’m not saying that you should ditch your children and travel the world – although you could – but start small, go for that line dance class you’ve been wanting to try or join that yoga class.

As the Joyful Living Retreat came to an end, I hugged that new friend of mine tightly and wished her well. She looked happy, lighter and relaxed which what I wish all of my mom friends would feel.

How about you, ladies? What do you do for “me time”? Did you feel guilty for taking the time away from your family?

This is an original article by World Mom Maureen Hitipeuw

Maureen

Founder of Single Moms Indonesia, community leader and builder. Deeply passionate about women empowerment.

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INDIA: Our Children make us into better people

INDIA: Our Children make us into better people

From the pages of a Mother’s Diary

“There are times when it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that my husband and I are blessed to have Abhishek as our child!” I recently said , to a close friend.

You might initially assume that these are the words of a proud parent and that the child is an achiever in the worldly sense of the term. Yes, every child is an achiever in their own way; but the special gifts that every child brings into the lives of their parents are much more meaningful than mere achievements.

The early years:

When Abhi was a toddler and composed tiny poems about Nature, we nick-named him “sunflower” to reflect the innocence and sheer joie de vivre that he expressed at every waking moment. We felt humbled and awed by the fact that this trusting little soul had chosen us to participate in his quest for meaning, to share his curiosity and to gaze at the world with eyes filled with wonder. When we were with him, we found it easy to brush away the dust of old “has-been’s” and “should be’s”. We shrugged off pre-judged notions of what things ought to be, what fun is supposed to look like, what work truly means. We learned to become child-like again. His easy take on life restored our hope in fellow human beings. His intense love for “all creatures big and small” reminded us about how truly interconnected we all are in the fabric of life. Most of all, his trust made us want to be the kind of people he would look up to.

“Practice, don’t preach” became a necessary rule to live by.

Over the years:

As the years rolled by, and the toddler grew into a tween and then a teen, we realized just how much we had learned, thanks to him. One kind of learning was the ability to see the world through his eyes – uncompromising, clear and yet optimistic about the future. The other, more subtle kind of learning was related to our role as parents; were we living the truth of everything that we asked him to be and do? We were not just messengers of a message, we WERE the message.

piya

From the pages of the family album – Unbridled joy in the tiniest of things – who better than a child to teach an adult about this?

A debt to our children:

Could it be that as parents we owe a debt to our children, far greater than what is ever imagined or acknowledged? Our children teach us all about trust, faith, patience and pure, unsullied joy. If we are willing to learn, they teach us what unconditional love is all about. And through our interaction with them, we explore the boundaries of our physical, mental and emotional reserves; learning to stretch ourselves to meet the ever-changing challenges that they bring to our lives. From being self-contained adults, we move to a higher, more intense realm of thinking, feeling and being.

Parents – not just givers, but receivers too:

Perhaps parenting is looked upon as an almost overwhelming responsibility because the focus is frequently on the need to give, give…sigh… and give some more. Granted that the axis of one’s life changes forever when children arrive. One learns, perhaps for the first time, to put someone else first. When we pause to take stock of all that we receive; the joys, the learnings, the richness that imbues everyday moments and makes them into cherished memories, parenting seems like a special gift. A privilege granted by the universe. Hence it would not be incorrect to say: Our children make us into better people!

PORTUGAL: Who’s side are you on?

PORTUGAL: Who’s side are you on?

red green chairsIn case you hadn’t heard, Portugal won the European Football Cup last week (or soccer for those of you reading this across the Atlantic). It’s a big deal because Portugal’s national team has never (ever ever) won a major competition. I was in a park watching the match on the big screen with family and friends but even someone hidden away in their closet all night would have heard the shouting, honking, banging and clashing celebrations going on all over Portugal once the referee blew the final whistle.

I’ve never really been into football, partly because my parents used to groan every time their precious news programme was postponed due to extra time but also because I found it difficult to decide where my allegiance lay. It seemed like true fans were so fervent about their club or their country. I had no idea who to support: I was born in Germany to an English mother. It was abundantly clear to me that being English was no better than being German – it was just different, so why would I want the England team to win over the German one? For a long time I avoided the question of “Who’s side are you on?” by saying I just wasn’t into football.

Then I married a Brazilian. Brazilians are really into football. I mean REALLY. It was easy to support my husband’s club because it represented the Brazilian state I first moved to and, well, he is my husband. During the World Cup 2010 we resolved any possible conflict by rooting for Uruguay, a better fit for my southern-born husband who identifies much more with Argentinian and Uruguayan Gaúcho culture than the carneval and samba of Rio de Janeiro. Plus, I always love supporting the underdog. In this manner, two World Cups went by without a glitch (well…unless your Brazilian!). And then we moved to Portugal.

Now the main event was suddenly the European Cup and once again my allegiances felt split. Should I support Germany? I hadn’t lived there in a decade and didn’t identify much with the team’s powerhouse approach. England? As a foreign-born British national it always felt odd to support “England” rather than “Great Britain” but supporting Scotland or Wales would have been even odder. What about Portugal? Once again it didn’t feel quite right. We live in Portugal but none of our family is Portuguese, I don’t know any of the players except for Ronaldo. So, once again, I sat on the fence and simply ignored the football events around me.

And then Portugal won the quarter finals. Then the semi-finals. Something was in the air. Splashes of red and green, the colours of Portugal’s flag, began appearing all over town, in windows, on cars, on people’s clothing. I commented on a stranger’s lovely vibrant red top and she told me it was “in honour of Portugal”. The day of the finals I was walking along the beach with my son. Everything was red and green: vendors were selling Portuguese scarves, all the bars had a flag in the window and I even saw a whole family of four decked out in Portuguese team shirts.

Something inside me shifted. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s easy to ignore the fact that I’m living in Portugal. I’m surrounded by expats, my family and few Portuguese friends. Expat life ALWAYS comes with it’s fair share of annoyances and it’s so easy to imagine that “home” (wherever that may be) would be better, faster, cleaner, easier. But that day on the beach I realised how many good things Portugal had brought me and my family. It had become a home, a place full of laughter and friends, sunshine, walking in the hills, jumping in the surf, drinking wine under the setting sun.

It deserved my support.

I wish I could say I went to watch the final game that night decked out in red and green. I didn’t or rather couldn’t. But although my wardrobe is decidedly monochrome my heart was beating for Portugal. And when the crowds stood up to cheer, my little Brazilian-Anglo-German family was cheering right there with them.

Have you ever supported a national or local team while living abroad? What about your kids?

This is an original post written for World Moms Network by Julie Dutra in Portugal.

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Julie, her husband and baby boy are currently living in Portugal, having spent the previous three years in the southeast of Brazil. She considers herself a bit of an obsessive reader, and even more so since discovering she was pregnant. All that information has to go somewhere, which is why Julie started her blog, happy mama = happy baby, where she documents all the quirky parenting ideas she has collected so far.

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INDIA: Nishkaam Karma and Baggage free Parenting

INDIA: Nishkaam Karma and Baggage free Parenting

Baggage-Free Parenting

From the pages of a mother’s diary

It’s never easy for a mother to confess to her child that she has found herself lacking. Nevertheless we all know that acceptance of a situation allows insight and wisdom to change and evolve.

I used to be an investment banker, a trainer and a teacher before my son’s birth. Of all these vocations, teaching seemed to bring the maximum joy. When he arrived I vowed to be a good mother. Motherhood joined hands with my outer-world pursuits. Over time, I began realizing some things.

I had always been inspired and energized by my MBA students. My interactions with them seemed to have creativity, encouragement and the giving of space. When talking to them, I would stretch my thinking to meet their perspectives. I stayed alert to their changing moods and allowed their feedback to shape my inputs for them. Most importantly, I never dreamt of burdening them with my expectations.

Here’s the irony: Why did I then find it difficult to maintain the same approach with my son? Why did my attitude change? With him, my mind seemed to live in a rigid skin of “ought-to” and “ought not to”. I often foolishly persisted with my original plans, even when he seemed to indicate a need for change of pace or approach – a misapplied lesson in persistence.

Other mothers assured me it was natural to want the child to work towards excellence. As a professor, I also wanted each of my students to work towards excellence. So why the schism?

I remember the times he would sit to colour; What he wanted to do and what I thought was “right” would usually be diametrically opposite to each other! When he chose to sit down to create yet another unique vehicle using Lego blocks, and I would wonder why he wasn’t out and about with friends in the playground? In retrospect, it seems so silly that I allowed his choices and decisions to baffle me. I thought like a mom, not like a teacher. As a teacher, I was geared up towards a much wider spectrum of acceptance. I was happy to use creativity and patience to deal with differences of thought. As a mom, this approach was not always there.

When he invariably followed his own heart (for which I thank the Lord!), I would bite down on my impatience and also wonder – was I being a “good enough mother”?

It took me a long while to realize that this state of mind was a manifestation of my ego: A “my child” syndrome. I learned to see him as a complete person even if he was still in the single digits. When faced with yet another situation where his will came up against mine, I started asking myself: What if he were my student and not my son? How would I handle the situation then?

I reminded myself that he is one of my biggest teachers, and that part of the mandate he has, is to be seemingly contrary to my expectations! For that is how he has given me insights into a “nishkaam karma”, the principle of detached involvement; learning to keep aside expectations of particular outcomes and focusing instead on the best that one can do.

Long ago, I read the words of Kahlil Gibran;

“Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.”

Most parents would nod their heads sagely on reading these lines. Yet most of us are also guilty of falling into the trap that he cautions us against. We unwittingly treat children as our possessions and therefore foist a more rigid set of expectations on them. Mothers, particularly Indian ones, are often guilty of allowing emotions to colour almost all decisions, to the point where the child is emotionally blackmailed into toeing the line with the phrase: “After all the sacrifices I’ve made for you…”

Maybe I, and other mothers like me should remind ourselves from that the Universe has entrusted us with the sacred responsibility of helping our children discover their own potential, and work towards fulfilling it in their own unique manner. We can’t walk the path for them, or stop the pain of the falls along the way. We ought to not hand out our own “How to” guides for their journey, unless they clearly need it or ask for it. We are there to cheer their progress, to guide, and to boost their courage in the rare moments of self-doubt.

Does that mean that wise parenting is a cold, bloodless affair? Most certainly not. After all these years, I am discovering that it as a sublime blend of intense commitment, coupled with love and affection; and an equally dispassionate calm. The ability to see one’s child as much more than one’s child seems to be the trick to baggage-free parenting. I hope and pray that over the years this becomes one of my best gifts to my son, the space to be who he truly is!

 

 

 

INDONESIA: Positive things I have learned as an expat.

INDONESIA: Positive things I have learned as an expat.

A few months ago we celebrated our “Asia-versary”, marking six years since we packed up our life in Portland, Oregon and moved to Dili, East Timor with our twin toddlers.

In some ways, it feels like yesterday. I can easily recall the very vivid sense of taking a giant leap into the world, equally nervous and excited. But it also feels like a lifetime ago.

After spending nearly two years in East Timor, followed by four years in Indonesia, we now feel like reasonably experienced riders of the expat rollercoaster. When new arrivals ask how long we’ve lived in Jakarta (and that we will likely be here for another four), they react with wide eyes…“Oh, wow!” This long-term status is unusual but I don’t really mind.

Our diaper-clad toddlers are now full-blown big kids who do not remember our pre-Asia life. Recently my daughter said, “I think we’ve lived in Jakarta for long enough now. Can we please move to Africa?” “Well, no. Not right now, anyway,” I replied – amused that such a move seemed entirely plausible to her, but also a little concerned by the normalcy of transience.

Though I sometimes miss the shiny novelty of being a new expat, I also appreciate our settled life in Jakarta.

Here are six things I have learned about making the most of this unique experience.

Choose the positive

Jakarta is not an easy city to love. The daily challenges of mega-city living – traffic, flooding, pollution and lack of green space – can really wear you down. Though we all have our bad days, choosing to have a positive attitude makes a world of difference. Unexpected traffic jam? Extra time to listen to my favorite podcast. There really is a lot to love here. It is a vibrant, friendly and generally safe city where just about anything is possible (and everything can be delivered). When I focus on the good things, more good things come.

Accept the chaos

In Jakarta, things often do not go to plan and the concept of jam karet (“rubber time”) takes some getting used to. However, learning to let go of being in control of everything and practicing a less-hurried approach to life can be valuable lessons. We love visiting Singapore because it feels like a breath of fresh air. Everything works, everyone follows the rules, you can walk everywhere! But after a few days I am always happy to return home. It turns out I like things a little messier and less predictable. It keeps life interesting.

Say yes

Living in a different country requires you to step out of your comfort zone on a regular basis. It provides countless opportunities to “say yes” to new experiences that may not have been available before. I have seen friends learn to play an instrument, take up a new sport, climb mountains, get dive certified, learn new languages, undertake distance learning and start small businesses. Last year I ran my first 5K and 10K races and performed with a dance group in front of 600 people. These are things I never would have done in my previous life. I am so glad I said yes.

Treasure friendship

One of the best parts of expat life is the community of friends. We all rely on each other and the bonds often feel familial. Close friends fill in for far away aunties, uncles and cousins. The downside is that most families will eventually leave and the annual exodus can be particularly tough for those left behind. But as sad as it is to say goodbye, it is also wonderful to know people in so many different places. We have been lucky to re-connect with some of our Dili and Jakarta friends during our summer travels, making the world feel both smaller and bigger. I love that paths do cross again.

Stay connected

I sometimes worry that our kids are missing out on a lot by not growing up in our home countries. The fact that they don’t remember our life before we moved to East Timor makes it even more important to stay connected to “home”, which is sometimes an abstract concept for them. Although home is where we live, home is also the US and UK – where we are from and where our families live. Fortunately we are able to visit every summer and have grandparents that can travel to see us in Jakarta. Prioritizing these special relationships helps us to feel rooted and connected.

Keep exploring

After living in the same place for a while, it is easy to get caught up in the daily routine and forget to notice the little things that make the experience unique.

The magic might fade but it is still important to keep learning and exploring. For me this can simply mean looking out the car window (instead of at my phone) or walking the nearby alleyways on my lunch break to appreciate glimpses of local life. I try to keep learning and using Bahasa Indonesia. I also keep lists of new things to do and places to go. Though we have plenty of time to tackle these activities, I am also aware that expat life can be precarious and is never guaranteed. I don’t want to take it for granted for a second.

This is an original post by World Mom Shaula Bellour in Indonesia

Shaula Bellour (Indonesia)

Shaula Bellour grew up in Redmond, Washington. She now lives in Jakarta, Indonesia with her British husband and 9-year old boy/girl twins. She has degrees in International Relations and Gender and Development and works as a consultant for the UN and non-governmental organizations. Shaula has lived and worked in the US, France, England, Kenya, Eritrea, Kosovo, Lebanon and Timor-Leste. She began writing for World Moms Network in 2010. She plans to eventually find her way back to the Pacific Northwest one day, but until then she’s enjoying living in the big wide world with her family.

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