SALEH

SALEH

The song “Putting it Together” (piece by piece, bit by bit ...only way to make a work of art come to life) describes perfectly the last few months of watching Saleh, my son Jack's

 music theater teacher, put together a show that won a National Competition and personal award of Best Director.

 I have had many chances to study her genius as she, year after year,  pulls together 28 rowdy kids, from behind her piano bench, to create music theatre masterpieces.  The judges are always amazed when she walks out from behind the stage, where she is playing piano, only to discover that she is also the choreographer, producer, director, voice coach and music director. The Saleh miracle has also attracted 120 students to come before school to be in a choir.  Also amazing - she never directs the students during performance.  She plays the piano while the hundreds of different pieces and parts run like clockwork.

 She trusts they can do it, and they do! The “Saleh Secret” is incorporation and validation. When students have ideas, she not only considers them but often incorporates them into the choreography.  She carefully studies the personality and talent of each individual and breathes life into their unique abilities. 

 Her devotion to her internal principles, as she fashions her “works of art,”  is what liberates her students ...and then the magic happens “piece by piece.” 

 Saleh’s vision brightly beams before her at all times  - and as she “lights” up each student by giving them their “chance” - all the lights combine....

and if you drew an all encompassing circle around what she creates, you would find that the real reason it all works, the real reason, is that she truly loves her students - and they know it.

IF THEY CRY THERE IS A REASON

…IF THEY CRY, THERE IS A REASON…

I have never been able to let my babies “just” cry.  All my life I have been exposed to opinions, spoken or written, about how “crying at night” helps babies get used to sleeping through the night,  at nap time – or in times of distress.                I do not believe a parent should deprive little ones of feedings and other forms of care to achieve a goal, heralded by many, that can cause psychological, emotional, physical or mental distress or trauma.

If a baby cries there is a reason. A child has limited options.               Regardless of what the problem may be, the form of communication between baby and parent is singular…crying. I often find it hard to sleep at night. When I have a bad dream, I get up, walk around and say to myself, “It wasn’t real,” until I believe it.          When I am hungry, I make toast.  When I am uncomfortable, I roll from one side to the other. When I can’t turn my brain off, I read.  When I am in pain, I take medicine. When I itch, I scratch. When I am lonely, I snuggle up to someone I love.  When I am depressed, I ask people who love me to listen to me. When any of these things happen to a baby, they cry. Until a child is old enough to make it “their job” to take care of these things – it is “our job.”

I do not believe that a tiny infant, or even an older child, is trying to fiendishly manipulate, control or enslave a parent by expressing their needs or wants. I believe that children have real needs and wants – real ones. Their cry is their voice – their only voice.

An experience:  My husband and I were required to travel for his business for a couple of days.  We left our child, who was a little under one year of age, with parents we trusted. When we returned they told us that our child cried the whole time we were gone. They said they finally laid him in a playpen and “just” let him cry because they didn’t know what else to do. From the moment of our return, our child glued himself to my body and “soul".           He literally needed to be next to me every second. When I would drive, I would have to set him as close to me as was possible. When I would cook, he would be on the counter, cracking eggs open for me.          If we were in public, he would never leave my side and did not want anyone talking to him. For his emotional security it was required that we become one person.  I remembered, gratefully, my mother’s advice to “wear your babies on your hip for two years and saturate them with love.”                This was not just a good idea. In this case, it was a necessity, a necessity that was a joy and a privilege for me. This child grew quickly from this place to a place of joy and confidence as we opened our world up, together, from "on my hip" to his taking on the world to become a confident, brilliant man of great contribution.

Imagine the fear – all of a sudden away from the familiar arms of his mother - now in a foreign "land" – an unfamiliar playpen -deprived of the love and care, and perhaps even the physical nourishment needed – with no evidence that his present situation would ever change.  It must have felt like a hopeless eternity in the dark. 

Fear is the outcome of unmet needs and wants in a small child.                   Making a small child secure by meeting his wants and needs, at a very young age, relieves the fear and allows the child to be able to devote his life to learning and growing.  He does not have devote all his attention to wondering if someone will come, as he lays there, completely helpless, on his back, waving his arms and legs around, crying.       He knows his mother or father will always be there for him.                 He then can stretch and work and learn and laugh and become a child of wonder and joy, relieved of the burden of fear – full of faith in a bright future.

Love is the answer.         How can deprivation of love in the form of withholding the care we should give be the answer?   Despite all the literature or talk show opinions, or fad-parenting ideas, there is not one person alive that doesn’t know, deep down in their soul, that letting a child “just” cry is wrong.  I have heard of mothers going to other parts of their homes, curling up in a corner and plugging their ears --- crying – trying to adhere to the newest, most popular idea being circulated among new mothers.      God gave our children to us – not to “them” - not to "their" ideas.  He gave us the keys to raise our children. We should trust our hearts, listen to our own inner voice, listen to God. Every child has different emotional and physical needs. The freedom that comes from trusting yourself and God while you raise a child is a liberation of the heart and soul that can only bless the lives of your children and family.

If they cry, pick them up.  Look into their eyes. Listen to your heart.  You will discover your child’s voice speaking to you. You will hear and respond and be able to raise a secure, loving and happy child.

HISTORY ALIVE

Walking the streets of Charleston and Savannah with my girls - you can feel it, it is everywhere.  The vitality of all those who have played their part on the grand stage of life.  It is recorded beneath your feet, in the wind, in the Spanish Moss hanging from the trees, down plantation lanes, in pictures and paintings of faces and families who stare back at you with life's light in their eyes, in the white sand, along the rivers, in the swamps, in the homes that were burned down over and over again by war and mishap, the graveyards with tiny tombstones of those who lived hours or days, or 95 years, clomping horses, big, bright cooking, sad and happy stories being whispered and shouted and sung of emancipation, in tears and smiles, in pride and glory. I have never felt “dead and gone” feel so alive.

HEART TRUTH

HEART TRUTH

“Buy MY idea!”  I have discovered there are two kinds of truth.  Truth that rings true to the heart, mind and soul, all together --- and --- there is truth that is being sold to whoever does not take the time to think about it.  One of the most significant times in my life, that woke me up and taught be to be careful of all the “voices” shouting into my mind, was when I began to raise my first child.   I read books full of new ideas and listened to the advice of others.  What I discovered was that some of the old ideas that have “rung true to the heart” for ages were being sacrificed at great “cost.”  Since old ideas don’t sell anymore, people are coming up with new ideas that, sometimes, make no sense at all and are completely out of harmony with what we know to be true in our heart.  God gave every man that is on the earth the means to know for themselves what is true.  It takes a minute, a quiet minute, to figure it out, but it can be done, it needs to be done.  I once read a magazine article written by man, who had many impressive degrees accompanying his name, present his beautifully written argument that “miracles have ceased on the earth.”  When I read that I knew it was untrue.  I knew it immediately because I, like everyone else in the world, have a spirit within me that allows me a way to decipher.  My own life, which is filled with endless miracles every single day, spoke much louder to me than the evidences presented by this scholar of theology. The age of information is a marvelous age to live in.  If we are careful, we can participate in the great enlightenments that are available.  If we are going to “buy” into it, however, let us be wary of “money truth” and spend our time and money on gathering “heart truth.”  

MARY AND MARTHA

 MARY AND MARTHA

MARY AND MARTHA

Mary seeks light, sits at His feet

Head held high, hoping eyes to meet

Steadies her gaze upon His face

Enthralled by His love, His peace, His grace

Martha seeks light, stands at His side

Captures each word, as through the room glides

Hopes her devotion He still can see

Seeking to serve, though not at His knee

Both seek His light…at His feet, by His side

One sees, one hears… their souls to Him tied…

Poem by Karen Nelson

Mary and Martha approach the Lord in very different ways, as do we, with evidence that we have honored the gifts He has given us to work with on earth to beautify, bless and “Come Unto Him.”  Each unique offering is graciously and gratefully accepted.

LIKE HENRY

LIKE HENRY

Henry, who was three years old at the time, was asked what it was like to go to Lego Land.  He looked up and said, “It was an awesome good time, and I was awesome!”

Everyone should feel about themselves the way Henry feels about himself.  When he walks in a room, he throws up his arms and jumps and smiles and laughs and spins in circles and stoops down and then springs up in the air - and dances.  It is like he is announcing, with his body, “Here I am, I am Henry, and I am the happy to be me and be alive and I am amazing and cool and awesome, and so are you!- so let’s live and love life together.”  One time he was hiding behind a towel and I told him to show me his beautiful face.  He pulled the towel away and said, “I have the most beautiful face in the whole world.  Jesus is good.”  He then proceeded to sing a song about Jesus as he ran out of the room.  I believe Jesus would love it if we could remember what Henry knows - that we are awesome and beautiful.

HER DAY IN THE SUN

 HER DAY IN THE SUN

One early morning before daydawn break

And scarcely before completely awake

She found herself sitting arrayed all in white

In a sacred room filled with crystal light

She looked at the mirrors that brought time together

And basked in eternity – in her visual forever

And pondering upon all the souls gone and forward

She felt a deep stirring and knew she had heard

A voice that speaks soundless – the language of soul

That taught her of gifts that exacted a toll-

That all she was and could ever be

Was bought by the mirror – the lives she could see

Of those who had struggled and cried and stretched

Whose brilliant life stories they carefully etched –

In a sacred record of heart – mind – soul time

And her vision was opened to remembrance divine

To the pages recorded line upon line

Of Eve and Ruth, Rachel and Leah

Of Mary, and Miriam, Sariah and Hannah

One by one in bright glory did come

The sung and unsung, the women of God

Who unwearingly held on tight to the rod

Millions of women who made it their creed

To do whatsoever The Father would need

And each precious history – each life profound

All built a foundation – pure and sound

For the next to come forward – for her day in the sun

For her day to laugh, cry – give birth and run

Run in the wind, splash in the waves

Warm by the fire – and earnestly pave

A new path to follow for wondering eyes

That search through the soul to determine the prize

What are the gifts she will give us they ask

What are the treasures - to aid in the task

Of finding the way through the maze of life

That will take us all through – both the joy and the strife

And each valiant woman who taught their heart

Taught them to choose the better part

Taught them to turn their mind, heart and soul

To Him who has power to make thunder roll

And lightning to flash and water to part

And destroy in a moment adversarial darts

And power to speak in the perfect still

With voice so pervading and quiet, it fills

The entire, the all, the everything

So beautiful and strong – it makes one’s deep sing

Sing of the miracles that He carefully planned

For each single life – so we each could stand

Tall and full straight – not bent by life’s tears

Full of God’s spirit, not bowed by the years

Sure of His love, sure of his power

Sure that he watchcares through each blessed hour

And then it all closed and the souls in mind’s light

All vanished and left her alone in the might

The might of the gift she was given through mirrors

That faced one another with her as the seer
She stood in the middle looking backward and forward

And blessed all the lives now infinitely dearer

Of those who behind her stood strong in the wind

And those ahead – whose lives have not penned

The life they will write with music and song

And  their words that will then help others along

And then as she stood there – a truth stepped out forward

And planted it’s message without a word

Just knowledge – pure, precious, plain, penetrating

Suddenly, completely a part of her being

She knew the forever – of forward and backward

Were hers to own, to enjoy and to treasure

She had the choice to honor the gifts

Of those from before -  whose choices were lifts

From one to the other …..  and now they held out

Their steady hands – banishing doubt

So with faith and trusting – she held their hands tight

And with the other,  reached into the night

To pull those unborn through the curtain of light

And give of her gifts made golden and bright

By a touch of the Master – in the end turning all

To goodness and laughter – despite all the falls

Gifts of pure wisdom, gifts of pure faith

Gifts of the heart, gifts in clear lace

That only can come and go from a mirror

That faces another and brings loved ones nearer

And basking between forever and ever

She stood all amazed at time-honored treasure

Packed solidly, firmly in the sinew of soul

That is shared through reflection as the ages roll.

                                              Written by Karen Nelson