Yesterday morning during farm chores the kids had a disagreement.

A big one.

Both of them wanted the favorite job, neither was ready to budge.

I value the skills that develop during these moments, so I let them work it out, instructing them to put down the pail until a decision they both felt good with was found.

Almost always this is a wonderful way for them to navigate their struggles.

Almost always.

Yesterday it just wasn't happening.

Though clever, viable ideas came into the conversation, both held fast to their own, not able to open to another's idea.

It was maddening (for everyone).

Finally I completely and utterly lost my cool, yelled, acted like a monster, and went inside.

Even Pete lost his patience.

 

Because yeah, some days are like that.

Even here.

 

When the kids came in we were all hurting.

There were tears.

Raised voices.

Sadness and anger and frustration and pain.

 

And then – somehow – we found grace.

We each got over ourselves and our need to be right.

We listened to each other.

We connected.

We apologized. (All of us.)

 

And as we gathered around the table for breakfast we found the space within ourselves to truly listen to one another.

As we joined hands in a circle, we acknowledged what went wrong. In ourselves and between us all.

We healed.

 

And then as we cleared the table and washed dishes together, each of us made a promise.

"To seek solution."

"To not yell."

"To be more patient."

"To not call names."

Small, simple, important promises. That all of us can keep.

 

And yesterday when struggles arose (as they often do) we recalled the promises we made.

And we honored them.

We searched for solutions together when challenges arose.

We stopped yelling – despite our desperation to be heard – and discovered that others were truly listening.

We were all more patient then before.

And no one called names.

 

Would I do things differently if I could replay yesterday morning's drama one more time?

Of course.

But were we able to find some real healing and evolution within a hurtful and messy day?

Most certainly.

 

And that, I suppose, it was growing up is all about. No matter your age.

 

Have a beautiful weekend friends.

 

So much love,
Rachel

 

Edited to add: This morning was rocky, too, for one of our crew.

I felt my patience thinning, dealing with the same big and uncomfortable expressions.

Because come on. Let this day be easy.

And then, through the big feeling that were flowing we found what was really going on.

There was hunger. (Breakfast after chores? What was I thinking?)

And fear. (I think I lost my…)

And the feeling that someone wasn't heard. (Why do grownups always want thier way?)

And so we started again.

The journey we'll always be on, as we reach for more and deeper compassion.

More and deeper understanding.

More and deeper connection.

May it always be so.