Here is a Wonderful Day

"There is a Wonderful Game" by Hafiz

There is a wonderful game we should play,
And it goes like this:
We hold hands and look into each other's eyes
And scan each other's face.
Then I say,
"Now tell me a difference you see between us."
And you respond,
"Hafiz, your nose is ten times bigger than mine!"
Then I would say,
"Yes, my dear, almost ten times!"
But let's keep playing.
Let's go deeper,
Go deeper.
For if we do,
Our spirits will embrace
And interweave.
Our union will be so glorious
That even God
Will not be able to tell us apart.
There is a wonderful game
We should play with everyone
And it goes like this...

from I Heard God Laughing- Renderings of Hafiz by David Ladinsky

Saturday was the day-long nonviolent communication (NVC) workshop (which was started with the above quote) that I had been worried about and preparing for all week. And it was marvelous. Though it was the same material and instructor as the workshop I attended last year, I had more insights and was inspired. Without delving into NVC theories, which you can gather here, I want to give you a snapshot of my day:

• If you ask a mom "how are you?" she will often answer about her kids. Trust me, it's exactly what happened to me when I met up with my co-organizers. Miss J (yes, there are a lot of people in my life whose names start with that letter) asked how I was doing, and I said that the kids were feeling better. Which I guess means I was feeling better, but really shows sometimes how out of touch with ourselves we can be.
• During these workshops, we often get into small groups to go over a situation that we would like to explore with more clarity. Mine was the recent uncomfortable conversation at the "dinosaur museum" with the nosy questioners. And so, my honest expression (OFNR--observation, feeling, need, request) was something along the lines of "When I hear you asking questions about my family, I feel worried because I need respect and acceptance. Would you be willing to change the subject?" Or something like that. Anyway, one of my group members said, basically, "B.S. Tell them to shut up." But I often see these conversations as a teachable moment for people who are more curious or ignorant that actually mean. Sometimes, however, like that time, they can also be very ill-timed, especially with my in-laws there and the kids listening. And so, with the help of the trainer, I realized that I'm torn in these situations--I want to address the questions in a meaningful way so as to both reach out to the stranger but also to model for the kids how to be proud of our family while at the same time I want to be with my family and not satisfy the ideal curiosity of strangers while we're trying to have a good time. So, as the trainer suggested, I need to be real, not nice. To figure out what I really want in any situation and then say so, something like, "I'm torn. I appreciate your interest but today I'm trying to spend time with my kids." I'm still working on it, but it gives me a start for addressing questions that we get frequently and which I've never known how to answer.
• The trainer, in talking to me about that, also said something illuminating: when you have two needs that can't be met simultaneously (and isn't choosing "correctly"--or I should say the most effective for your long-term needs--between them one of the definitions of being an adult?), take a moment to acknowledge or mourn that one of your needs will be unfulfilled. For example, it comes in handy with mindful eating (or parenting or budgeting or whatever): let's say I want a piece of birthday cake but one of my long-term needs is healthy living. But the birthday cake fulfills my short-term need for fun. And so you choose, and sometimes you eat that cake and say, "I'll eat better tomorrow," but more often, if you really want to meet that long-term need, you mourn the birthday cake and eat something else. (I'm mixing a few things here but I think it makes sense). It works with all sorts of things and really clarifies for me the decision-making process on all sorts of topics.
• Following the above, I really appreciated the statement "assume incompetence not malevolence." This is particularly relevant to something in my own life, though I'm not sure I would use "incompetence," perhaps ignorance, as in not aware of the effect. There are a couple of people in my life who don't talk to me. Not "won't," as far as I know, in that there hasn't been a fight or disagreement. Just don't. I email and/or call; they never return the calls. Or acknowledge them. Or I comment on their blogs; nada, zip, zilch in return. Even when I think what I have to say is important or interesting or worthy of response, if only a "thanks for letting me know." Okay, I'm not on Facebook, which is a hurdle, perhaps, I'm guessing from these situations, an insurmountable one. But I've been hoping these people would meet me halfway, if only to email and say, "why don't you call me instead?" And I try to think it isn't personal, vindictive, aggressive (if only passive), or, as in the quote, malevolent. Especially because I know I am probably "that person" in other relationships (Lambeth can attest to how often I don't reply to his emails directly, even if, also in that case, it is in no way malevolent). But it also leaves me unsure of what to do next, scared even of what they might be thinking, wondering what it is about me? When really, I'm betting it isn't about me at all. Their silent "no" just means they are meeting their needs another way, a way that just doesn't involve me (see bullet after next). And, until we connect, that's just where we are for now.
• As well as "everyone is always doing the best they can."
• And "a no is a tragic expression of a yes." Which sounds confusing but is based on the NVC assertion that everything we do is a strategy to meet a need--sometimes it's not effective, but it is still about meeting needs (and all feelings come from the fulfillment, or un-, of needs). Which means if someone says no to you about helping you meet one of your own needs, it is because that person is trying to meet one of his or her own. And that's when you can ask, connect, and try to reach both of your needs. For example, "Would you be able to watch my kids on Tuesday?" "No." But the "no" isn't mean, the no is because perhaps that person is already having a babysitter come to watch their kids. And if you could talk about that, you could perhaps share the babysitter expenses or reschedule or something . . . I think the saying encourages me not to take "no" answers, especially from the kids so personally, but instead to try to figure out what they are saying "yes" to and go from there.
• Some studies suggest it takes 6 seconds for your conscious brain to react to a situation, while your "reptilian" brain kicks in immediately. The secret is to wait a bit and think about a situation. I guess the oft-recommended idea to count to 10 is a good one.
• Many people seemed fine with all the NVC ideas, except when it came to raising children. They just couldn't grasp the idea of the partner-parent who tries to encourage a connection with children through dialogue instead of more of a top-down/rules-and-consequences structure. Sure, it sounds like a free-for-all, but in practice--and I know because I practice it a lot, sometimes not very effectively--it's not structure-free. It's just that the structure is arrived at through mutual respect and conversation, which I believe makes it more meaningful and lasting (and before Lambeth comments about following instructions, my kids are very clear about health-and-safety rules as well as the difference between a demand and a request--one can't be an option, the other can. I just have to practice stating it all correctly.) So, it meant a lot to me that the trainer talked a bit about parenting, which is my main practice area for NVC because Mama and I just don't have that much conflict (and because she is more wary of my new language than the kids, even if I know she'd admit that it has helped us be clear with one another). I'm just sorry the other participants, many of whom were parents or teachers/principals or felt they were raised right by disciplining parents, couldn't hear what we were trying to explain with open ears.
• Wow, the food was good, from Rev. M's famous Oatmeal Molasses Bread and Mini-Muffins to her Roasted Root Vegetable Soup, to the refreshing salad, and my Potato and Greens Soup and Brownies. We all felt very taken care of. Homemade food makes all the difference, even something as simple as soup and bread.
• I bought some books and two puppets, a jackal and a giraffe, hopefully to help me introduce and illuminate NVC for the kids. And the kids LOVE the puppets. I explained very briefly, the next morning, about the giraffe and the jackal, two animal symbols of different types of talk: giraffe talk being the honest expression of compassionate communication and jackal talk being the more common use of judgments, labels, evaluations, "shoulds/shouldn'ts," demands, lack of choice, and blame. As I did it, I made the jackal alternately whiny and bossy. Sis immediately said, "I don't want to be the jackal. I want to be the giraffe!" Of course, in NVC, neither is "good" or "bad" but the giraffe is more effective at meeting needs through a quality of connection while the jackal often alienates us from ourselves and others. (Yes, that's all NVC speak, much of it adapted from a small booklet entitled Communication FUNdamentals by Jean Morrison and Christine King, which I bought at the workshop). And we practiced the voices as we cleaned up their room for Chinese New Year. It's a start but they were very receptive. To the point that, more than once since then, Sis and Bud have said, "Use your giraffe voice" or "That's jackal talk." Awareness is half the battle, I'd say. And we've got a start.

So, a great, rejuvenating day. Which is why I am now doubly sorry that I probably can't attend the next workshop because Mama is working several Friday night/Saturday combos in the next two months. I'm going to try to arrange childcare, but I'm also trying to accept that maybe my need for NVC won't be met this time around. But I can still practice.

"Out Beyond Ideas" by Rumi (13th-century Sufi mystic)

Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing,
there is a field.
I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase
each other
doesn't make any sense.

(translation by Coleman Barks)

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Roasted Root Vegetable Soup

To Make Roasted Root Vegetables

1 lb rutabagas

1 lb turnips

1 lb yams

1 lb fennel

12 oz carrots

1/2 lb halved Brussel sprouts

1/2 lb cauliflower florettes

12 oz carrots

2 lb onions

4 tablespoons olive oil

2 teaspoon sea salt

black pepper

2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves or 1 teaspoon dried

2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh sage or 1 teaspoon crumbled dried sage

For the Soup

1/3 cup pearl barley

1/2-1 teaspoon sea salt

5-7 cups any basic vegetable broth

4 cups roasted root vegetables

1/2 cup whole leaves fresh flat-leaf parsley

2-3 teaspoons sherry vinegar

Preheat oven to 375. Peel and dice all vegetables to uniform size, about 1 inch. Mix teh vegetables in a large bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper, thyme, and sage (the original recipe calls for 3 tablespoons of dry sherry). Spread the vegetables over 2 shallow pans and roast for an hour until they are tender and flecked with dark spots. Mix and turn vegetables a few times during roasting and switch pans halfway through. When you are done, you will have about 8 cups of vegetables (which seems to suggest, you can make half of the vegetables called for in the recipe to reduce cutting and peeling time!).

Combine the barley in a large pot with 1 1/2 cups water, a dash of salt, and 5 cups broth. Bring to a boil, lower heat, and simmer, covered for about 35 minutes. The barley will swell 2-3 times its original size. Add the 4 cups of mixed roasted vegetables and simmer for 15 minutes. Add more salt if necessary. Add parsley and vinegar during last few minutes. Add more broth if too thick.

Note: You can add olive oil at the end, or serve with fresh goat cheese or cream. Also mushrooms, noodles in place of barley, and a variety of herbs can be used.

adapted from Anna Thomas, Love Soup

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Sour Cream Lemon Streusel Muffins

2 cups flour

1/2 cup sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon grated lemon peel

1/2 teaspoons salt

1 cup walnuts, chopped

1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup butter, melted

1 egg, beaten

1 tablespoons sugar

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease muffin cups or line with paper. In large bowl, combine flour, 1/2 cup sugar, baking powder, lemon peel, salt, and walnuts. In small bowl, combine sour cream, milk, butter, and egg until blended. Stir into flour mixture just until moistened. Spoon into muffin cups. Sprinkle remaining 1 tablespoon sugar over tops. Bake 15-20 minutes for regular sized muffins, 20-25 minutes for jumbo, or until cake tester comes out clean. Remove from pan and cool on rack. Makes 12 regular-sized muffins.

Rev. M

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Penny's Seed Muffins

1 1/2 cup all purpose flour (may use whole wheat pastry flour, if desired)

1/2 cup whole wheat flour (may use whole wheat pastry flour, if desired)

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons sesame seeds (raw or toasted)

2 tablespoons poppy seeds

2 tablespoons wheat term

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup nutmeats, chopped

1 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 egg

Stir together flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Stir in brown sugar, nuts, wheat germ, and seeds. Beat together buttermilk, egg, and oil and pour into dry ingredients. Stir to blend. Fill a dozen greased muffin cups. Bake at 400 for 20 minutes.

Rev. M

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First and Foremost Brownies

1/2 cup butter

8 oz bittersweet chocolate

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup granulated sugar

3 eggs at room temperature

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/2 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

Preheat oven to 300F. Line an 8" square pan with overhanging parchment paper.

Melt the butter and cook until it becomes light brown and smells wonderful. Remove from the heat. Cool for 10 minutes.

Add the chocolate and melt. Stir until smooth. Add the sugars and mix well. The mixture will be grainy. Add the eggs 1 at a time, mixing until the batter is glossy and thick. Add the vanilla, then the flour, mixing only enough to incorporate the flour. Add the salt and mix briefly (adding the salt at the end of the mixing lends a wonderful contrast to the sweetness).

Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 25-30 minutes. The edges will be firm but the center will be slightly soft, yet puffed. Remove from the oven and chill completely.

Note: this batter can be refrigerated and frozen indefinitely. Brownies, wrapped well, store in the fridge for 1 month or in the freezer for up to 6 months.

Lisa Slater, The Brownie Lover's Bible