Welcome ...
This blog has been created to allow family and friends to share in and become part of the experience of 'Down at the Farm'.
Enjoy the children, their love for each other and their open hearted wonder and excitement.
Over time you will get to know the farm through their eyes and will see how they spend their day with each other in a very rich, organic way.
Each vignette is a snapshot in time. Follow from one to another, then on to more and you can share in our unfoldment and journey.
Enjoy your visit ...

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Picture this ...

Down in the Witch's Garden yesterday, Oli sat for a while on my lap.  At one point he went to get up and, as he did he fell back down and into my arms and rocked a bit.  He loved it and we played with him rocking in my lap for a moment or two.   Like bees to a honey pot, four other little folk all zoomed over to bathe in the fun ... all 'wanting a go' too.   All of a sudden the impulse was too strong and the other two boys jumped into my lap with Oli.
Plenty of room of course but, 'Ooh, ouch, quick jump up, my leg hurts.'   One little foot was jammed up against my shin bone with all other bodies on top and I needed to get everyone off quickly and to shift the weight if this pile up was going to feel good for all.

All quickly standing and eyes on me.  I said, 'I'm ok,' ... 'I just had a foot on my leg and it hurt so I need to try something different.'

'Is it broken?' was next question. 

Me reassuring, 'No, my leg is good and strong, it just didn't work with everyone on top and a foot sticking into it.'

Frankie took everything in, threw herself at me and hugged me, then looked into my face with eyes full of love and hugged me again.   This is so.oo Frankie-Belle.   Often in a moment where there is some sign of pain or upset, she gives love.  Spontaneously and wholeheartedly.   If you haven't been on the end of a Frankie hug ... you just don't know what you are missing.

So as mild as this moment of needing to shift weight actually was, I was actually being shown a whole lot of love.

Next Samson asks, 'What if it was broken?'

... and this is typically Samson, he follows a thread of enquiry all the way.   Doing the journey with him is an adventure.   He is deep thinking, ingenious with solutions for all sorts of life situations, funny and very caring.

'Well, it would hurt a lot and I couldn't walk on that leg.  I'd have to hop.'

'What if both legs were broken?'

'Well then I really couldn't walk.'

This unexpected turn, yet the conversation was light and full of curiosity even though we were talking about something that would be a dilemna for us all.  I knew we needed to follow this thread of Samson's to completion before we'd move on in harmony once more.

I've found, just giving the facts as they are being asked for leads to satisfaction and happiness ... children feel it like a full belly.

My experience is we adults often project into the space of natural curiosity, our own worries or concerns or ideas.  We decide children are thinking and worrying about things that they aren't.   The farm has been a great school of learning for me about this ... alongside my life as a mother.

All of a sudden, seemed five little minds latched onto the thought of me with two broken legs and not being able to walk.  More with the dilemna this would be than any pain and suffering.   

No one here was worried, just wondering and asking.

Samson voiced the question, 'What would we do?'

All I could feel was the sudden thought form that was present.  Me out of action would change things a lot. I knew the children needed to hear common sense, facts and feel reassurance, that if this was a reality, they'd all be OK.

'Well, if both my legs broke, then we'd need to get some strong farmers like Nick and a wheel barrow.  The farmers could lift me into the wheelbarrow and push me up to the barn and we could still all go together ... and be by the fire and wait for the mums to come.'

That hit the spot. I knew it was the news that we'd still be in action and all still together until mums were here, that was just what was needed.

In moments like this, where we are facing and wondering one of life's dilemnas, I've found children just need a sense of things being handled with care and sense to feel safe and like life, as it happens, can be handled.

Another moment, then the comment, again from Samson, 'We could carry you.'

All round agreement, 'Yeah, we could, we could.'

Now picture that!

Now, laughing very loudly on the inside at the thought, all I could feel was the love that is in this little gang has for me and how all that matters while we are at the farm, is that we stick together and take care of each other.

My reply, 'Really, would you do that?'

'Yeah', all round.

'Do you think you could?'




'Do you want to try?'


So I lay down on the ground amongst them all to see what would happen.   Who was I to dampen their faith in themselves as capable, caring and strong.  Our mood was one of great possibility and faith that they could.

This for me was now hilarious.  Like Gulliver and the little people of Lilliput.   I lay and surrendered into the experience.  Oli threw himself across me putting his little hands underneath to see if he could lift me like a log.  Exactly as I've often seen Oli do when there is something long and large to lift.  Other little hands grabbed other things, my jacket, my hand ... and the chatter and excitement was large and loud and happy.

A little hive ooperating and finding out about just how capable they are.

Frankie and Jyra quickly fell into synch. They figured they could each lift a foot and that once they did, both realised they had each lifted a leg.   That's a lot of me off the ground.   Two little girls, proud and strong. 

Then Oli and Samson grabbed a hand each and lifted my arms. 

Kornelius quietly watching at this point became the voice of reason, 'Hey what about her body, it's still on the ground.'

I lost it at that point and just cracked up ... and instantly we all were ... and in a huddle once more on the ground with lots of bodies in my lap and laughing.

'You guys are so caring ... and brave and strong. Thanks so much for trying.' 

... and back to our play we went.

No comments: