Life

The Tunnel – A Parent’s Journey

The Tunnel

 

Entering a tunnel

Darkness closes in

And roads, once open for to travel,

Are behind, now growing dim

 

Tunnels within the tunnel

Are hidden, not in view

Another holds a lantern

Describes the roads I now can choose

 

Confusion reigns in darkness

Who is safe to trust

Suspicion fills the spaces, which

No longer are robust

 

A strange and lonely journey

Travelled without choice

The One who’s been my leader

I can yet hear His voice

 

Trusted Him in struggle

Trusted Him in peace

As promised He’s been present

Promise stands;

He’s present, He will lead

 

30/3/2018

The Story of Me – Begin…

I could start at the beginning. I could pretend I know my ending, and work backwards. I could give you the bleached version, the raw version…

Welcome to the as-it-comes ‘story of me’, and I’ll begin where I am.

I am at graduation. Graduating from seventeen years, three children, and parenting through school (including my own first academic qualification).

Would I do things differently? Well, that would be to pretend I could be different to who I have been at any given moment. So, if I had my time over (pretending again), I’m guessing it would be exactly the same. Are there things I regret – conversations, actions, reactions, beliefs, values? Of course! Which shows I’ve grown; reflected; learned; processed; become more wholly myself. Not arrived, but arriving.

 

One of the most painful paths of my journey has been going through the school years as a parent (and I didn’t much like most of my own school years). A parent with children who experience the world outside of the mainstream.

There was some seasonal epilepsy, which was met with compassion. We brought with us allergy and eczema, which was largely dismissed, or used to shame and control. Blindness and emotion, though, were largely to be feared, seen as a threat, and handled by protecting ignorance, the status quo. Essentially, self-preservation of staff and systems (even outdated/non-recommended systems) – at the expense of…my children. Not just their academic education, I had been learning how I would facilitate that since before they were born anyway. But their sense of self, individuality, place in the world, contribution to the world, belonging in the world, was undermined at almost every opportunity.

 

To those of you who embraced my children (though few in number), drawing them into community and thereby being changed and changing yourself as a result of being in each other’s worlds, thank you.

Thank you for learning to do and say and model differently to your preferences, so that my children could learn in the ways they needed to. Thank you for engaging with their ways and their person – especially those of you who saw each of my children as their individual selves. Not as one, identical. Thank you to the ones who naturally did these things, and thank you especially to those of you who responded positively to change when challenged by my children.

I thank you because you are/were rare. Like an endangered species, hard to find, at risk of extinction, often being slowly extinguished by systems. Thank you to those of you who are like my secondary school teacher sister-in-law, psychologist/teacher uncle, and primary school teacher/principal uncle; those who are like my mother, who intuitively tuned in to the individual; individuals like my father, who learned to listen and learn from others (experimenting, modelling and teaching what he learnt), and standing boldly for those who had no voice.

 

Sadly, to be a ‘shifter’ in a mainstream system is not easy, painless, comfortable, or the way to make and keep friends easily.

So, kudos to those who will shift and be shifted for the benefit of the other, and consequently for the benefit of the whole… us.

1/1/2018

More Stories to come

Who is a Woman?

Who is a woman?

 

She is fragile; she’s strong

She can weep when she needs to…or burst into song

 

She stands – independent; she sits with her Kin

She builds her community…in spite of the din

 

She fights for the voiceless; she sits still with the lost

She can speak or keep silent…whatever the cost

 

She’ll look deep within; she’ll know when to seek help

She is healthy, proactive…she survives by her stealth

 

5/9/2017     For Women’s Health Week 2017

R U OK?

Are you ok?

Well may you ask – sometimes it just depends on the task

Or maybe the task has nothing to do, it may be the day is just a bit blue

Perhaps “just a bit” is a big understatement…life may paint blue as I walk on the pavement

I may be thinking I’m nothing of worth –  if the sun hasn’t shined, my thoughts just may not ‘work’

My burden, I may think, is just mine to bear…but those kindred of spirit can help burdens to bear

Some days I might not know the value of ‘we’ – if you welcome me in, we may help me be free

Ubuntu, I’m told, is the story of me…and the story of you…and the we, we can be

Are you ok?

Why not just ask?

We may find we’re friends, who help each walk through life’s task

Gina Schmidt          R U OK? Day           September 2017

A Private Conversation with a Fellow Parent – Some Reflections (with permission)

Sometimes we parents get to guide our children through learning experiences which are unfamiliar to us, outside of our current comfort zone, and seemingly not within our perception (or another’s) of the mainstream gig of ‘growing kids’.

One way to tackle these moments might be to chat with someone who is further along the parenting journey than we are…so, I recently got to have a great chat with a go-getter parent.

As my adult children have all been blind since birth, this chat was essentially around having a conversation with a child younger than mine, about the differences between a parent/child relationship, and the parent/parent relationship. It came about, though, because the child had heard mum and dad during intimate moments.

Many of us have had the experience of walking in on dad and mum during sex, many of us have had our children walk in on us, and many of us feel either uncomfortable or unsure about how to respond. Some of us also have the consideration of what our children can/can’t see, hear or comprehend no matter what the new experience encountered.

After hearing the parent’s story of what had been happening with their child, how the parent themselves felt about the kind of conversation they may need to have, and the child’s vision impairment coupled with some level of communication/comprehension difficulties, we brainstormed some strategies for the immediate, and some suggestions for in the future.

The child had been repeating sounds heard from mum and dad’s room when they’re alone, and those sounds were beginning to be repeated at particular times. The parent believed that the frequency was increasing and wondered what, if anything, she might do about it. Since there was perceived future negative impact for the family and their relationships, and seeing a potential learning opportunity for the child, these are the strategies we worked out together:

  • Talking with the child about their own special relationships (e.g. with a grandparent or sibling)
  • Discussing something that the child does only with that person
  • Explaining to the child that the sounds heard from the bedroom were only for mum and dad, as their special times with another family member are theirs alone

Because of one of the diagnoses the child has been given, it was recommended that a chat with the educational psychologist that the family already connect with might be a good idea to talk through some of the possible related experiences they may have with the child as they move into teen and adult years.

For the parents, I suggested that the bedroom may not be the only place for physical intimacy. This might reduce or eliminate the child associating what was heard with that room, and the parents. It also brings with it some new interest for the couple relationship…nothing wrong with that!

Who could ever say that we don’t have anything to learn by being a parent?

And thanks to the other parent for trusting me with their story, and wanting to share some of their own journey so others may have a few more tools to work with.

You

What’s in your heart?

Are you afraid to see?

Will it be what they’ve told you?

What you think it will be?

 

What is more frightening,

The truth or the lies?

In truth, is there freedom?

In falsehood, bondage and ties?

 

Around your heart’s surface,

Have you set up a shield?

Detachment, a pretence

For what your inner-heart feels?

 

Your outer-wall surface,

Your shield around self,

Is not intrinsically you,

But sheathing observed on a shelf

 

The inner-most substance

Of your design before time

By internalized truth and love

Is being strengthened, refined

 

21/10/2016

Cane Verses Guide Dog

By Christine Casey…Teacher, musician, friend

Since I received Lainie, a number of people have asked me how using a guide dog is better than using a cane. I’m still not sure that I can explain it well, but here is a comparison of how I felt the other week, walking along Swanston street with Lainie compared to how I have felt doing it with a cane earlier in the year.
With a cane:
I must listen carefully as concentrating to hear voices, footsteps, traffic and the echoes off buildings, posts and pedestrians helps me to keep myself orientated. Despite my careful listening resulting in a greatly reduced number of collisions with objects and people, my cane is constantly becoming entangled in signs, seats and legs. Every thirty seconds I seem to be muttering an apology. My speed varies considerably as I focus my concentration on dodging things and people and listening for clear paths. The appearance of a street sweeper or similar constant and loud noise causes frustration as it reduces my ability to hear potential obstacles. I secretly wish the Melbourne City Council would ban all buskers as they attract crowds which block my way and require careful negotiation. While I realise that my fellow humans are probably not paying me any attention, I feel incredibly conspicuous and somewhat awkward. By the time I make it to my destination, I’m longing for a rest and some quiet.
With a guide dog:
As the dog picks a path through the crowds, I am able to relax and appreciate the sounds of the city. I hear the tram bells, and notice music drifting out from doorways and I catch snippets of conversation from passing people. A wide variety of scents waft on the air. There is a gentle sun, and a slight breeze. I feel the dog’s movements through the harness handle and follow where she guides, only paying enough attention to ensure that she continues in an overall straight direction and to detect if she should become distracted or uncertain and require encouragement or instruction. My steps flow and there is little need to vary speed, except for especially crowded patches. The music of the buskers adds something special to the atmosphere and I feel a great fondness for them and this city which I now call home. The free-flowing nature of the journey makes me feel equal to my fellow pedestrians and, while I do overhear the occasional comment on the clever dog, I feel as though I blend into the crowd. When I reach my destination, I am somehow both energised and relaxed: ready for the next task of the day.