the little red hen revisited

When I was a child we had a black and white tv, there was not such thing as dvds, computers were what they used to send the men to the moon and records were what I loved to listen to.  My favourite was the story of the little red hen.  I'll do it myself was a real motto for me.  (I suppose as a child hens were an important part of life, my granny had a hen house and hens, her cousin had the most beautiful bantams you could imagine, so exotic looking.)  Anyway we were discussing a problem the other day, my ex, my teenager and me.  I was explaining how the problem could be dealt with and x was saying that it was impossible.  Teenager piped up if anyone can do it mam can.  I listened to this and asked her to expand.  She said she saw other people try to do things and fail and then when I tried I succeeded.  My dad used to say just tell her she cant do it and she will get it done in no time.  I love to undertake challenges of doing things other people would not bother with, I love to challenge myself, but I think that the fun I got from problem solving was nothing compared to the fun of not problem solving.  I have learned how to be the anti-little-red-hen.  Perhaps if I show her that even superwoman  can crash and burn, she will feel that her efforts are hers and that she does not have to live up to the ideal of being a perfect superwoman.  I did not know any children's stories about the joys of being an imperfectionistas a child, the joys of being average, or even the joys of being different but the one I love most that I used to read to my children is Giraffes cant dance.  I thought I could not dance, again not a metaphor, but when I was around 27 I went to two different types of dance  classes, traditional and modern and I found that I was a very passable dancer, I could follow steps but not freestyle.  

My children grew up with the idea that I was superwoman, mother and father to them for a while, so much so that she called me her unbearded father.  I am not superwoman.  I am not the little red hen.  I now have evidence to the contrary of that.  I can finally receive help and just as I am rewriting my life, I can rewrite the story and message of the little red hen.  I am not alone, I can ask for help, there is always someone out there that can help and is willing to do so.  Why was it so hard for so long to ask please can you help me.  the first time I truly understood that phrase was when my polish neighbour, who has not so much English, had no  water at Christmas.  His English was not very good but he was able to say please can you help me perfectly.  It must be one of the most important phrases we can learn in any language.  I can ask where are the toilets in 5 languages as this is the most important phrase I need when travelling and also, where is the train station, but why did I never think of that most important phrase Please can you help me.  
So for all of you out there that dont know how to ask for help here is a selection of the phrase in different languages:
An feider leat caibhru liom le do thoil?
Parsome galite man padeti?
Proze mozesz mi pomoc?
Sil vous plait pouvez-vous me aider?
os gwelwch yn dda allwch chi fy helpu?
Bitte können Sie mir helfen?




Today practice asking for help even when you dont need it just so that you can ask when you do.


Happy Thursday and go off and have yourself a bit of a dance. 

weird wonderful and wolly

today was about as strange a day as I have had in a while.  The day began with the usual attempt to send my teenager to school.  I gave up the fight and she went on condition she came home early.  Then I watched the dali lama speak live from UL on his trip here.  It was really uplifting , I felt magically wonderful.  no sooner than he had finished a former best friend and erstwhile bully of my daughter arrived seeking refuge from her bully.  I headed the words of his holiness and acted with kindness and compassion, instead of showing my displeasure of how she treated my daughter I forgave her and gave her the refuge she sought , but i still had a bit of a give out.  Today I sought to react to all situations with compassion.  I have long felt that being kind often ends with being taken advantage of.  A belief I inherited from my father.  why he believed that I found out not long before he died.  His father died suddenly and my dad who worked with his father went and did many of the jobs has father had planned to do.  When their boss found my father was not doing his work he castigated him not realising that my father was doing two jobs not no job.  my father decided never to act on his own initiative again and stopped helping people.  He told my this story when I was around 35 as he thought that I might repeat his foolishness.  I asked him if he regretted his actions and he said he did not, actually those were not his exact words , they were more like, f**k him, why should i do anything for that f***er.  He understood that he was cutting off his nose to spite his face but on an emotional level believed it was the best thing to do for him.  I am not sure how that reminds me of the dali lama and the various emotional weirdness that went on today I think it is perhaps that I finally learned the lesson i needed about kindness and compassion.  We all get opportunities to influence the lives of others for the better.  It seems to me that I have a far kinder and gentler nature than I realised. I have not really valued kindness and compassion for so long as I did not have the assertiveness and self worth needed to allow myself to be kind and compassionate and not allow others to take advantage of me.  Kindness is not weakness, compassion is not foolishness.  Showing both is not being a push over.  I love myself, I love my family.  Today was weird because of all the emotional discoveries I made and many people around me made, It was wonderful because I was inspired by the dali lama  that piece of mind is the most important thing we can teach our children , and wooly because I crocheted a significant amount of my winter comforter blanket for my future out of doors naps in the crisp winters days of the future.  It is amazing the lovely combinations you get when you combine the different colours, textures and yarns.  Many bits of wool that were weak on their own helped to make beautiful textures and colour when blended with sturdier but more boring wool.  A bit like life really.  I shall remember so much of today as I wove my feelings into the comforter.
 If in doubt crochet.
Happy middle of the night.