Your Words are Magic

yourwordsaremagicYesterday after my littlest girl told my little girl that she was “mean” and “a bad sister.” I had to take the time to tell her to be kind. As her 3-year-old body sat down for a talk, I could tell, that she did not care about what I had to say. I did what I usually do when I am at a loss for how to guide my kids. I closed my eyes and gave her a hug. I filled her with love and light, and then these words came from my mouth:

“Magic is real, and you have it in you. Your magic is your words. When you say nice, beautiful things to your sister, you are filling her with love and light. When you say mean, hurtful words, you are bringing darkness.”

We then talked about words, and the different feelings we feel, when we use them. We talked about adding extra magic with our words by smiling and hugging. And then she ran off to give her sister some magic. All was well.

Until the older sister got bored, and used some choice words to make the younger sister cry.

That, was when we took our magical learning to a whole new level. That, was when we learned how to make a shield to protect ourselves from the mean words of others.

To be continued…



When Did Our Bodies Stop Being Perfect?

Your Body is PerfectMy 18 month old son loves his body. He loves having feet, and toes, and ears, and hair. Having a body is pure fun for him. He looks in the mirror and sees wonder and fun. Sometimes, he presses his nose on random surfaces, just to feel. Babies and kids are just like that, perfect. Their bellies are cute, their rowdy curls are adorable, their big eyes are love inducing, and there little feet are forward moving.

But then you look at adults – and its a world of difference. Our hair is something we tame, we are uncomfortable in our own bodies, we critique ourselves, we judge. I do it too – a 35 year old with a huge belly in a red bikini doesn’t look as cute to me as the 4 year old with the same description.

So when did our bodies stop being perfect? When did we make the transition from being in full wonder with our toes, to: “My arm flab, uh?” But more importantly, how do we go back?