last evening i hit a low with miller. after our spat about skittles, and the convenience store in our apartment lobby, he stormed off and called me a 'jackass.' i won't go into the details of the escalation here - they'd possibly give you some reason to agree with miller's assessment - but i was mainly happy not to have been taken up by his irate indignation, and meet it head on. this is perhaps due, in part, to the fact that he is my youngest: that is, i have been in situations like this with his older brothers and can bring some bit of calm due to experience. but i'd never been 'sworn' at by a son. called stupid or retarded (a newly stained epithet, pc only when used in reference to tea party members or their leaders), but never crossing a certain line. tv now doesn't consider jackass swearing, apparently, but i do, and i take a pretty firm stance against foul language in the house - or anywhere within my earshot. i personally don't swear very often - maybe when a hammer meets my thumb, for instance - but i think it good that kids know how to communicate politely, if need be, in the presence of royalty (such as grandparents) without too much exertion. i think my ability to keep some semblance of composure during the heated fracass also had something to do with the mindful meditation practice and inquiry i've been up to for almost a decade.
notice the breath, a feeling of contraction in the hands and chest, the narrowing of the eyes. before speaking, be aware of your choice: do you engage with a hostile energy head-on, or do you find the ever present beginner's mind within, and act from that place. i won't say that my words or actions were without reproach or particularly wise. but i feel they came from a place of compassion.
this morning over his bowl of raisin bran crunch, miller apologized. i was planning to bring it up on the drive to school. what his 'consequences' would be, that i loved him, that i too was sorry that things got away from us. but i gave space, and he filled it with his own love. the manchild.
i have long wrestled with my sons - i mean literal wrestling - it's what males can do to get close physically. of course we hug occasionally, but, well, don't want to overdo that. anyway, eli and spencer have long since been able to pin me, but miller hasn't. they grow in size, strength, and coordination while i, alas, slide in the other direction. actually i keep growing in size - fortunately slowly - but not in the dimensions that help to prevail on the mat. the time it takes me to pin miller is gradually increasing, noticeably faster now that he's adolescent. his voice changed over the summer, he grew a few inches, and smells like a man, etc. there have been times that i've wrestled with the boys to circumvent a building animosity, a tactic that might have helped prevent the spat of last night. but no matter, it's all good. dad was firm - maybe a little idiosyncratically obsessive - son let slip a bad word, we have reached denouement. and i expect, the dance will continue.
:)
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