In the Hood

This morning Eliza got up and without saying anything to us, (not uncommon I have to say),  got dressed up in her finery, a long dress, all her make up and jewellery and then told me she was going down to the corner shop toget some sweets. This is a new thing, just in the last week, she’s been pushing, we’ve had a few ‘episodes’ and finally she and her friend Lula went down alone.  Worlds are widening. Curiosity is peaking.

It’s like she got dressed up this morning to be agrown up (not that I spend that long getting dressed, or putting make up on, or putting jewellery on!), so that she could express her desire for independence andcarry out her vision of going to the shop alone. When I think of it now, it is so beautiful, with her little jewellery box that she’s keeping her collected pennies in. She looks sublimely innocent and open and incredibly serious about the whole thing.

I mentioned to Duncan that one of my concerns is other people she might encounter on her way. It’s a really short journey but especially with what she was wearing, it got me thinking about how to broach the subject of other people she doesn’t know in the streets/shops. Last night she and Seamus and I talked about things that children might need to think about when they are out without a grown up. Nothing in the least bit to do with danger from other adults came up or was mentioned by them. It was all about packing spare clothes, food, having a compass to find your way, having money, a card for the bus, that kind of thing. I don’t even want to say the word ‘stranger’, because that immediately creates fear and the idea of other people being alien and foreign. I think she’s too young for that conversation. If she was in school, she would already have had that conversation, the one about ‘stranger danger’.

I think it’s my job to make sure she is safe, without her knowing that I’m doing that, and allowing her the freedom to express and learn and find out about, what she wants to know in each day. She’s not asking me about other people. She’s asking to walk to the corner shop with money to get sweets, and to do it on her own, without feeling that I’m ‘minding’ her or ‘monitoring’ her. She wants to know what that feels like. To have money that’s yours to spend without asking. To walk along the pavement without a grown up. To buy things without permission, make choices in the shop unaided.

I think she’s very sure in her mind about what she’s comfortable with for this project – she’s actually set the length of the trip, the distance she’s going etc. She wants it to be perfectly normal, and not to make a big fuss about it.

She came back this morning (she did two trips this morning) with a long jelly snake which she’d gone to get especially for her friend Lula. Up until a few days ago, I was faffing about how to administer pocket money, how to help her understand the value of money, how I would help her decide how much to spend. Within the space of a couple of days, she’s learnt for herself so much that I hadn’t figured out how to do. That she wants to come back with money still in her purse, that it’s fun to keep going back to get  more, that she can save and buy a gift for a friend, and presumably that the shop keeper will help her work out how much the thing she’s spent is. Andloads of other things.

She’s exploring being a grown up, being a woman, being comfortable, secure and independent, in the neighbourhood that she’s grown up in. To some, an inner city neighbourhood in London is not the best place to bring up a child. And I agree, the pollution levels are horrendous and I’d love the freedom to walk up a hill or run down the beach to the sea if I could. And to have a corner shop where I knew the owners really well in a neighbourhood where everyone knows everyone.

But every neighbourhood is a learning delight for a child. It’s a habitat. Every habitat, however urban, is full of it’s own pulse of life, energy and cultural rules. It’s a creative force that any child will be drawn to explore, find out about, understand and engage with. My job, is to help my daughter do that, 6 and a half though she may be.

What other ways can I find to help her fulfil this insatiable desire for autonomy whilst keeping her safe?

Learning

Following the trail, the scent, of an interest, takes you down tunnels and avenues and roads of inquiry, that can take up a whole day and more. Like a fox following the scent of a chicken. An addictive sort of self comforting, self fulfilling, self indulging, seeking the ultimate thrill – the catch, the kill. The kill, the discovery, the finding, never quells the urge to learn, merely catches us up with another train to jump onto. It’s wonderful and it’s addictive. It’s mind based, the human mind running on auto pilot, systems set up to enquire.

What else? Well, there’s the family in front of me. The collective. We are four individuals, each with the drive described above. If we bumbled around all day and evening only following our own drives, then our collisions will be occasional, often accidental, sometimes sought, but always with the motivation of satiating our own curiosity, the individual leaning towards completion of the latest mind craze.

But what else still? If we put the family, our own collective, as an entity in its’ own right, with it’s own drives, will, motivations, desires, leanings, needs, hunger and thirst, then to neglect it always for our individual pursuits is to miss out on something, to abandon something deep, important, essential. A collective, a family, needs intention and time. It’s almost as if the individuals involved have to be conscious of this thing that’s more than the sum of the individual parts, on which they depend for their emotional and physical survival.

To feed the soul of the family everyday, with times to honour, connect and maintain that precious thing which is greater than ourselves, is to understand the deep workings of the human soul to be more than the bumbling, leaning, grasping self conscious mind machines that we so often can be, and which we are trained to be from an early and vulnerable age.

Day 2

Last night I lay in bed knowing that I’d definitely had so many steamed greens on Day 1 that I wouldn’t be feeling like anymore for a while. I imagined the kind of salad I’d like and then pretty much made it up in the morning. The Yogi Tea is a must at the beginning and throughout the day.

Green Salad I

Avocado, cucumber, flat leaf parsley, apple, grapes, chopped fennel leaves, doused in olive oil and lime juice, sprinkled with roast sesame seeds.

This kept me going for breakfast and then lunch out in South Norwood Country Park. I took a flask of yogi tea that I made up in the morning, and had already drunk loads for breakfast too. On the way home mid afternoon, I was definitely feeling a bit peckish. Back at home, for late afternoon snack I had

Sauteed Courgettes

Butter, sliced courgettes, served nice and soft with sprinkle of sesame seeds.

I’m sure that the butter shouldn’t be included, it’s dairy after all.

That was fine, I went out mid evening to the Apple Store in Regent Street, something that’s bound to cause stress and likely to make me buy a chocolate bar on the way home. I didn’t, only spent time fantasising on the tube on the way home about my late night salad.

Green Salad II

Avocado, celery, apple, sprouted mung beans, doused in olive oil and lime juice, sprinkled with sesame seeds.

I’ve been feeling quite light and airy today, quite mentally alert. I’ve got a big spot on my chin developing. I feel generally in quite good spirits.

Day 1

Steamed greens

Yogi tea