Chef Julian

Chef Julian

A few weeks ago, my son, Julian was written up in the Oregonian for a cooking show that he created. At first I was able to keep up with the comments on the site, and various other blogs that linked to it, but when it was posted on AOL and Yahoo’s homepages it became difficult to digest and respond because of the sheer quantity. Through this opportunity to interface with others who I might never have had the chance the experience has clarified a few things for me.

Yesterday we read through Julian’s emails with a map in hand to see where they were coming from. (There were 107 in the inbox when we checked yesterday. Hah! He always complained before “Mama, how come I never get any email?”) Many young people, many parents with children, and a few older people as well who said that watching Julian’s show inspired them to go out and make their own cooking show, or to take on some other task that has been of interest to them. These emails delighted me because I felt there were others out there who truly heard and understood Julian‘s intent and who shared an understanding of what this was all about.

As to why he made a cooking show, Julian expressed his intent to me, and to the reporter very clearly, “I wanted to have fun.” Those who think he did it  to entertain the public, to create fame or fortune, to please others, to put out a quality cooking show on a national network, or to garner coos of affection will be sorely disappointed.

Others referred to him as “cute”, “a genius” or a “prodigy” or expressed disappointment that he didn’t meet those standards. They seemed to think that the real draw to this video was that Julian is a small, young person doing something that is somehow incongruous to his age. Or that he was somehow exceptional, or claiming to be.

In fact, Julian was doing what all of us have the power to do: decide something is interesting and try it out. This is not an exceptional skill. Everyone can do this.  I am equally inspired by Julian’s choice to wear red pants, or to stay up till 11 p.m. as by the cooking show (though the latter was a bit more work for me).

There were many others who were very concerned for his safety (using kitchen tools, hot stove, standing on a chair, etc.) or his lack of a formal education. I too share a concern for health and safety, and I respect the hard work it takes in many cases to collect a degree, certificate or title. Of greater importance to me, however, is the protection of the innate sense that we all have to seek out what we need, and to protect ourselves from danger. In a real crisis situation, regardless of how many safety features we have installed, or how many degrees we hold it is our presence of mind and connection with ourselves and others that keeps us safe.

For those of you left disappointed, who came looking for something that you didn’t find, perhaps there is still something that you can use: that we are all beings with great potential, empowered to make our own decisions and write our own stories. Go make something in your kitchen. Or go make your own tv show. Don’t worry if you make a mess or if it doesn’t taste good. Clean it up and try again. Or at very least, if something is boring and wastes your time, go find something more meaningful.

PS. For those who are curious,  TVP stands for textured vegetable protien. It is available at Bob’s Red Mill.

Winter day

Julian and Eva

Snowing outside today. I picked the last remaining vegetables in the garden- a dozen stalks of frozen celery- very precious green life in the frozen landscape. Contemplating the value people place on things like food, health, and warmth. (Speaking of value, today I just came by the one dollar diet project blog (thank you Julia). Also, I tried out this carbon calculator where I can calculate the damage I might cause on my upcoming trip ( 5000 lbs of CO2 yikes!) and purchase carbon offsets as well.

Kristen’s Media Picks

For all you very young media consumers, and the older ones as well, I’ve updated my media picks. Have a look in the sidebar for my favorite books, movies and websites based on the criteria I came up with earlier.

Holiday Gift Ideas

I don’t like to buy holiday gifts. At first it was because I didn’t like the idea of being generous because someone told me to. Now it feels more like an ironic interruption of the interconnectedness we all share. To tell someone to stop what they are doing and “be generous” presupposes the fact that the status quo is about being competitive self-serving individuals.

In addition, I don’t feel comfortable giving anymore with a value attached to the gift. There are so many ways this happens, from the obvious holiday bargains, refunds, discounts, exchanges and sales to the more subtle behavior Christmas shoppers have in rationing out and valuing the number and type of gifts (even homemade or non-item gifts) using size, cost, effort, relation to the recipient, history of giving and receiving with the other individual, social status or obligation as factors in a massive analysis and calculation of what should be given to whom.

And of course, there is the problem that what constitutes giving for many people doesn’t just interfere with relationships to each other, but also contributes to the destruction of the planet we live on. This deceptive linking of “morals and values” with “shopping and consumption” does more harm than good. (Thanks Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping “WWJB?”)

So you might not get a present from me this year. You might. I like giving. I like receiving. I think it is part of what we do when we are all together being true to our needs, taking care of each other and the place we all live in together. But rather than using our energies calculating, analyzing, categorizing, shopping, meeting deadlines, and competing, lets use them to connect with each other, take care of each other, and if we choose to, talk about our needs and wants

Back in the driver’s seat

One thing I’ve noticed in my deschooling process is my shift from helpless victim, to active participant, in many different areas of my life. Perhaps it stems from learning from one’s own heart and guidance that by default puts you in your own driver’s seat. It is reflected in the guidance of compassionate communication that bases interactions on one’s own needs, rather than the actions of others.

It seems, looking back, that my whole world was turned inside out. What to learn, when to learn it, what to value, how to dress, what I could or could not do: all of this was externally presented, and accepted. The ad said “shop!”, and I did, whether I needed it or not. The orchestral film score said “cry!” and I did, whether the story itself touched me or not. The teacher said, “No, not you, we need a nice strong BOY to carry this table,” so I knew I was weak because I was a girl.

It was no more their fault for telling me than mine for believing them. It was about a way of seeing the world that created a helpless, victimized and powerless me.

Things seem a little different now. I’ve noticed several changes in the past year. For example:

• I’ve piloted an anti-inflammatory elimination diet to seek out the root cause of a rash that I’ve had for the past 15 years. Previously I’d presented my problem to various medical doctors who all gave me advice or medication that did not cure the rash. Now, although I am seeking the help of several naturopath’s and nutritionists, the main expert here is me. I know what goes into my body. I know how I feel.
• In the past I was always envious of those who were handy and creative, but I knew I wasn’t able to do those things. The only way for me to really make something was pre-packaged arts- hook rugs and the like. But now, after finally getting a sewing machine that works I surprised myself by busting out a whole bunch of stuff from pajamas to bags. I’ve also been having fun watching Make Magazine videos with my son- projects that steer away from the pre-planned safety of a kit and nudge you into practical, daring, and empowering hacks.
• I was raised as a rule follower, and concerned for my safety, I would gather rules to follow to lead a safer healthier life (Wear your seatbelt, wear a helmet, take a daily vitamin, immunize your child, brush your teeth twice a day, flouridate the water, use antibacterial soap, smoke detector in every room etc.). But now, though I may do some of those things, I am no longer doing them because someone told me to. I am doing them because I know what the specific risks and benefits are, and I am making a conscious choice about what I do in any situation.
• I grew up thinking that “electronics are too dangerous” coupled with “electronics are for boys” and kept my distance. Recently I’ve started volunteering at FreeGeek with my son, and started asking, well, exactly what part of the computer is dangerous and why? Not only have I learned a lot about my own safety that are not reflected in psas on prime time tv, but also I now have the visceral empowered feeling gained only by tearing apart a desktop computer case with my bare hands and a few tools, when there are no instructions to do so.
• In the past, I paid my taxes the easiest way I could figure out so I could get the most money back, or the way I knew most others to do it. This year I am trying to be true to what I really feel is important and learn how to minimize or eliminate the taxes I pay that go to fund a war.

I just read that the average American is viewing 142 hours of TV a month- this is the average?! That’s like having an extra full time job! Think of what we could do with that time if we chose to; if we felt empowered.

Julian:Robots as Mama:Love

Shortly before I started writing this blog I was at a point where I wondered if I were to disappear, how my children would remember me… that lady who whined and complained? The lady who spent all her time on the computer?

Later they might say “My mother was always… If there’s one thing my mother really liked it was…” and all the words that came to my mind (I was having a rough day) were really negative (depressed, snippy, nervous, anxious… rules, sitting there by herself, typing on the computer).  Since then I try to fill my head, my world, my days and moments with other things, better things, that I might pass on to them.

Julian is REALLLY into robots nowadays. He draws robots. He built a robot. He watches videos about robots. He reads about robots. Recently we started the book Eager by Helen Fox, about robots.  I was actually getting interested in the story and suggested we sit down and read a few chapters.

“What mama??? YOU want to read about robots?!?” He searched his mind for a moment to think what might be for me, what robots are for him. “It’s not like it’s a book about… LOVE!”

I felt so understood!

Happy Holiday

In the spirit of celebrating neighbors and trust, remembering those passed, and imagining who you want to be. This year we handed out apples (a big hit), art cards, homemade fudge and Chef Julian’s chocolate almond covered cranberry balls.

Note-robot glows in the dark!

Child Friendly

For lifelong learners, we learn from others regardless if they are holding a position or title of teacher. Anyone can be that teacher when the need to learn arises- grandparents, neighbors, salespeople, waitstaff, strangers. We graciously rely on each other for our learning. Sharing that knowledge with respect and kindness makes for an enriching and satisfying encounter.

After a cluster of child-unfriendly experiences this month that ranged from passive and subtle to overt and blatent, I’d like to thank those people and places that have been particularly welcoming to people of all ages.

Strangers, salespeople, riders on the MAX- any one of you who has treated me and my children with respect, honoring our questions and interactions regardless of age. Patiently listening even though children sometimes talk slower. Asking if you don’t understand. Responding to what the children say honestly. Not allowing social expectations to get in the way of our connection- letting it be ok for a little extra noise or movement in the space we share. Sharing your knowledge or experience in a way that the children can hear. And if you are uncomfortable with our behavior, saying so, telling us why and asking for what you need.

Hopworks Brewery - from the childfriendly concept and mission to the staff that really lived that out, searching around for a garbage bag to transport soiled clothes after a diaper incident and huge spill, without batting an eye.

Free Geek- At this grass roots computer reuse/recycle organization no one asked my for year old son, ridiculous or condescending questions (“Do you like COMPUTERS? Do you think someday you’d like to work on COMPUTERS?”). They provided the tools we needed and a safe environment to work and learn. No one underestimated his and my capacity to keep ourselves safe. (“You know there are dangerous things around this office, like STAPLERS, and he simply cannot be allowed in a place like this. Maybe when he’s sixteen.”) In fact they even embraced the idea of a society where natural curiousity and the potential of youth merits the highest respect. They spoke with him directly, offered him choices, and allowed both of us to interact with a wide variety of community members of diverse ages, abilities and backgrounds.

Alberta Food Co-Op-  Quarterly Inventory Night – How wonderful that this opportunity exists. We stay up late, we count, we write down numbers, laugh, carry boxes, eat pizza, sort, and feel like we are part of the team.

Any other people, businesses or organizations you’d like to recognize here?

Connecting with what is alive

It has been a couple of weeks since my experience at the Nonviolence as a Way of Life Conference where I attended extensive sessions with Marshall Rosenburg, founder of Compassionate Communication.

My first introduction to NVC was through the book. It was ok, a little dry I thought. Time went by. I attended some workshops. I began to understand the mechanics. It is indeed, learning a new language.

With this visit I was delighted with new glimpses of fluency. I got to listen to and converse with near native speakers. I was taken to another place I had never been, similar perhaps to that field Rumi talks about.

It made sense when Marshall responded to a comment saying something like, “Oh I hope no one ever speaks in NVC! I hope they connect with what is alive.” Now there’s a thought. Forget everything, the words, mechanics, the situation, your intentions, your strategies, the circumstances, the protocols. Just connect with what is alive.

I have begun to try this. Sometimes I have difficulty speaking with others. I don’t know what to say. I get worried about time or what they might think. Or I start a conversation with someone and without fail, a few minutes into it, I suddenly feel bad. Or I leave the room, or hang up the phone and it just feels wrong.

This time though, I start the conversation and the second it starts to feel wrong, or dead, I throw everything out the window and find what is alive. (Is she angry? Am I bored? Are you scared? Does he need some space?) Find the need that is alive in our connection and follow it till it peters out and another takes over.

This is interesting and somewhat revolutionary for me. It is a new place for me. A little bit scary. It is the vital edge between needs and satisfaction, suffering and relief, thirst and water. I can now see the deadness in places- a work meeting, being shopping with someone when you don’t want to be there, anywhere that you are unable to connect with your true desires.

Sometimes my son will just flip out in a burst of energy that will zip like a shooting star through the house, over furniture, shooting words out of his mouth. My upbringing tells me to label this. (Wild child, rambunctious, out of control, troublemaker…)

Julian has a game he plays. He and his sister invented it. One person takes on an affected voice, usually very loud with lots of fluctuation, and babbles out a stream of conciousness story “Wacko Noonoo Elephant bang zippermouth on the DooDoo SNOZ!!! He shot icecream over a cedar tree donkeymouth!!!”. The other person laughs hysterically. Then they switch. Usually they attempt to play it with an adult nearby who is doing some other task (like driving, typing, cooking). The adult will usually respond with that somewhat condescending tone of voice that only someone using divided attention can muster “Doo Doo snoz? Thats pretty silly huh?”

Yesterday I was enlightened. I was trying out this “connecting with what is alive” business. When he decided to play this game with me. All the usual things came up (I have to make dinner. I’ll just play this game with him for a while and then I’ll go do my thing. Isn’t that cute? When will he grow out of this silly phase? This kind of thing gets in the way of him having a “real” conversation…) I’ve noticed as I listen to those voices the life gets drained out of his voice, and he usually stops or wanders off to watch tv or something.

This time I wouldn’t go there. I hung on, searching in his eyes for what is alive. And there he was a famous beat poet, respected member of the tribe, sitting on his stump taking his turn letting the life fly through him. It was hysterical. And then I tried it- it was hard. But I broke through a little bit, and was able to spit out some words without thinking (was that too harsh? Too loud? Not funny enough? Not really a word? I can’t think of anything, damn…)

Then the light came on- this is it, this is why I had such a horrible time learning to play piano, to sing. I’ve been blocked up. Blocking out what is alive. I’ve been taught all the words to box it up and hide it away. And of course they are laughing, because it is funny. It is not part of some silly game. This spirit, this place, this life is to be respected, revered and honored. And while you are there, when you are really there, why would you want to do anything else (like make dinner or mop the floor or scrub the tub)? What are you thinking?

He sat on his knees flailing his arms around, pulled here and there by the spirit of alive, “Dandack dishener on the woggies take my toodlebom to the grocery store!” And then with the brilliant and inspired voice of a professional performance artist he said calmly ”Ok Mama, its your turn”

Pain

My dear dear cousin called yesterday and I talked to her for the first time since the birth of her second daughter a few days ago. It was, as she explained, the most painful thing she had ever experienced, she mentioned something about how nurses were asking here “On a scale of 1-10, how much pain do you feel?”

I attempted to respond to this but as soon as I did, I felt somewhere in me that there was something wrong. Here I was in the middle of a wonderful conversation after having waited so long to connect with her and all of a sudden I felt glum. It was nothing either of us had done.

It was that that insidious cultural structure of hierarhcies and comparisons. How could you possibly rank pain? It is what it is. It is the mixture of the physical and mental circumstances, it is a feeling, a flavor, an intensity. It is your own. You cannot rank it. You don’t get points for it, or rewarded for making it disappear, or for exceeding a mark set by another person. It is the decorations on the walls of the place you go to. Even if someone else goes there, they won’t see it just like you.

I wanted to let her know I heard her say what she experienced, that I appreciated it, and respected it, but maybe I just don’t know the words to do that yet.