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The power of the placenta

January 9, 2012

Lynnea Shrief, mother of two and founder of the Independent Placenta Encapsulation Network, recounts how she learned about the value of the placenta after birth.

I began to study uses for the placenta when I found out I was pregnant with my second child; I knew I didn’t want to throw my placenta away. I have a background in biology and I am very interested in unusual holistic healing traditions, particularly placenta encapsulation, which seems to me to be the most modern and un-invasive way to benefit from the placenta.

Two women I met through a natural mothers’ group offered me their placentas to make my first capsules. One of the mothers had suffered severely from post-natal depression after the birth of her first child and felt she would try anything to prevent those symptoms from returning. The encapsulations were a total success, and both women couldn’t recommend the process enough. They said they felt happier, more in control, had a plentiful milk supply, bled less and never felt overwhelmed or anxious.

I gave birth to my son at home in water and used my placenta in many ways. I placed a small piece of raw placenta on my gums and allowed the hormones and nutrients to be absorbed into my body. This was done to stop post-natal bleeding. When the placenta detaches from the uterine wall it leaves a large bleeding wound. After birth, new mothers are depleted of the normal levels of growth factors and need extra help to heal. The placenta is packed with rich growth factors called cytokines that stimulate the production of new cells. [Read more...]

Filed Under: Issue 23, Pregnancy / Birth

Apple Magic

January 5, 2012

Robin Van Creveld encourages us to plant trees and enjoy their fruit

“A great shopper” will never be my epitaph! I thoroughly dislike shopping and very rarely buy ‘stuff’. My gifts are generally home-made and often edible.

I’m not particularly mean or grumpy, although I suspect my daughter might think otherwise; I just find the cycle of consumerism particularly tedious and deeply unfulfilling. For me, home-made gifts or sharing food are always a more satisfying way of expressing my love than adding extra fuel to the insatiable fire of materialism.

When my children were born we were showered with gifts. In addition to the hand-me-downs and spanking new ‘stuff’, both children were given apple trees, which we planted ceremonially. A fruit tree is one gift I particularly approve of because it fits into my “is it useful and can you eat it?” baseline. Fruit trees are a living reminder of fundamental events like a birth; they grow with you, punctuate the seasons and yield free bounty for many a year.

Once again, I’m in the throes of apple magic. My van smells like a packing shed and my kitchen is awash with rare varieties like Crawley Beauty and Slack ma Girdle. Autumn may be the time for picking apples, but winter is the time for planting and cooking them. I feel deeply blessed to be part of a Sussex-based project that plants heritage fruit orchards in schools and community spaces. We’ve planted over 50 orchards so far and in so doing are ensuring that rare varieties are preserved and communities have sources of free local food for future generations to use and enjoy.

I run hands-on fruit cookery workshops with children and communities alongside the tree plantings, and these recipes are from this year’s programme. They also lend themselves to being given as gifts.

 

Spiced squash and apple soup

This sweet and spicy soup is the perfect tonic for banishing the winter blues. The raw garlic and ginger added last are a great boost for the immune system. You can make it in bulk and give it away to your hungry friends and family or freeze it in useful portions using recycled yoghurt pots. It takes less than 30 minutes to make.

 

Serves 6

1 tbsp olive oil

2 onions, chopped

2 small cooking apples such as Bramley or Charles Ross, peeled, deseeded and

chopped

1kg (2 lb) butternut or kabocha squash, peeled, deseeded and chopped

1 tbsp mild curry powder

1l (2 pt) reduced-salt vegetable stock

1 tbsp grated ginger

2 cloves garlic, chopped

Salt and pepper

 

Method

  1. Heat the oil in a large pot and fry the onions until they start to brown.
  2. Add the chopped apples and squash to the pot and cook for a further 5 minutes.
  3. Add the curry powder and cook for a minute more.
  4. Add the stock and bring to the boil.
  5. Reduce heat to a fast simmer and cook for 15 minutes.
  6. Before you serve this soup, remove one cup of liquid and blend very well with the ginger and garlic. Return this to the pot and blend the soup to a very smooth consistency. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

 

Variations:

  • I like to serve this soup with toasted sesame seeds and a swirl of cream.
  • Adding a spoon of seasonal pesto to each serving of the soup looks wonderful and adds further depth of flavour. Try this easy combination: blend 3 tbsp toasted hazelnuts, a clove of garlic and 6 tbsp chopped coriander with 3 tbsp olive oil. Season with salt and pepper or a dash of chilli.
  • You can also add red lentils to this soup to make it even more hearty and nutritious.
  • Make a simple baby food by steaming some extra squash and apple on top of the soup to use as purée or finger food.

 

Apple fritters spiked with perry and pepper

This is a truly delicious dish, sweet, hot and rich. On cold winter days it really hits the spot. Serve it as a sweet, dusted in sugar or dipped in thick hot chocolate or with strong cheese, white meats or fish. Make sure the oil is up to the correct heat or the batter will drink it up and be greasy and soggy.

Sunflower oil, for deep frying

4 firm eating apples such as Cox or Windsor

150g (6 oz) self-raising flour, plus extra for dusting

½ tsp cinnamon

½ tsp ground black pepper

50g (2 oz) caster sugar

175–200ml (⅓–½ pt) perry or pear juice

 

Method

  1. Heat the oil to 180 °C (356 °F) in a deep-fat fryer or large saucepan.
  2. Remove the core from the apples using an apple corer, and peel. Cut off the top and bottom of the apples and then slice the fruit into pieces about 2cm thick.
  3. To make the batter, sift the flour, cinnamon and black pepper into a bowl and stir in the sugar. Whisk in enough of the perry or pear juice to make a thick coating batter.
  4. Dip the apple slices into the batter and carefully slide into the hot oil. Do just a few at a time to prevent them from sticking together. Fry for about 1–2 minutes, until they are light golden brown and crispy.
  5. Remove from the oil, drain on kitchen paper and eat straight away.

 

Apple and ginger jelly

Jelly making can be a labour of love, but if you have the time and space it is well worth it. Preserves like this make great presents. They are cheap to make but expensive to buy. Apple is low in pectin, the natural setting agent found in most fruit, but the pips are full of it, so make sure you use the whole apple. The ginger adds a warm layer of flavour that slightly offsets the intense sweetness of the jelly. Serve with bread and cheese, rich meats or apple fritters.

 

Makes about 2 litres (4 pints) of jelly

2kg (4½ lb) Bramley or any other sharp-flavoured apple
cold water to cover
approximately 1.5kg (3 lb) preserving sugar
100g (4 oz) fresh ginger

 

Method

  1. Chop the apples and place the fruit – cores, pips and all – into a large, heavy-bottomed pan. Chop up the ginger and add to the apples. Add enough cold water to cover. Bring to the boil, reduce the heat and allow to simmer for 30–40 minutes, or until the fruit is pulpy.
  2. Pour the fruit and liquid into a sterilised jelly bag or triple-folded clean cotton muslin and allow it to drain through into a large container until it stops dripping, (about 3–4 hours). Be patient and don’t be tempted to squeeze the bag too much or the jelly will be cloudy.
  3. Measure the juice by volume and allow 450g (1 lb) preserving sugar for every 500ml (1 pt) of juice.
  4. Place the juice and sugar in a clean pan. Bring to the boil, stirring until the sugar has dissolved. Reduce the heat and skim any scum from the surface with a metal spoon.
  5. Return to the boil and boil hard, continuing to skim off any scum, for 15–20 minutes or until setting point is reached. The setting point for jelly is 105° C (220 °F). Use a sugar thermometer to test this or put 1 teaspoon of jelly onto a cold saucer and allow it to cool for a minute. Push the jelly gently with your fingertip. If the surface wrinkles, setting point has been reached.
  6. Remove the pan from the heat and leave to settle for a few minutes. Skim the surface again if necessary.
  7. Place clean jars the right way up on a baking tray in an oven heated to 90 °C (200 °F/Gas Mark ¼) for 10 minutes to sterilise them.
  8. Pour the hot liquid jelly through a sterilised funnel into the hot jars. Seal the jars while still hot.

 

Chocolate-dipped nut and apple brittle

This is my take on peanut brittle, but without the sugar or the peanuts. It is a delicious and nutritious sweet treat that is easy to make and stores well, so with some creative packaging it is a good dish to give as a gift. The seeds are a great source of carbohydrates, protein and healthy fats. You can use this combination of seeds and nuts or improvise and create your own.

 

2 tbsp chopped hazelnuts or pecan nuts

2 tbsp pumpkin seeds

2 tbsp sunflower seeds

2 tbsp sesame seeds

1 tbsp apple juice concentrate – available from health and wholefood shops

2 tbsp barley malt syrup

100g (4 oz) dark chocolate for dipping

 

Method:

  1. Oil a large flat plate lightly with sunflower oil or prepare a non-stick silicone mat.
  2. Dry fry the nuts and seeds in a large frying pan over a medium heat, stirring constantly until they go a shade or two darker.
  3. Remove the pan from the heat and add the apple juice concentrate and barley malt syrup. Return to the heat and cook gently for a minute longer, stirring well. The mixture should dry out a bit but still be sticky enough to bind together.
  4. Turn the hot, sticky seeds onto the oiled plate or silicone mat. With wet hands, mould into a uniform shape and push gently down. Allow this to cool and harden and then cut the slab into slices or wedges.
  5. Break all the chocolate into a stainless-steel or glass bowl and place this in a saucepan of simmering water (bain-marie). Slowly melt the chocolate, stirring occasionally.
  6. Using two forks, dip the brittle into the chocolate, place on baking parchment or greaseproof paper and leave to cool.

 

 

Robin Van Creveld is a chef, educator, social activist and entrepreneur. He lives in Sussex and is married to the artist Riga Forbes. When he is not parenting Anoushka, aged 5 and Orlando, aged 1, he runs www.communitychef.org.uk

 

For more info about the Local Fruit Futures project, visit

www.brightonpermaculture.org.uk/fruit

www.ruralsussex.org.uk/service/food-local-products

Filed Under: Food, Ideas, Issue 26

The Gentle Art of Knitting by Jane Brocket, Collins & Brow

January 5, 2012

This is a brilliant knitting book. I have been inspired to knit again and am slowly working my way through projects – I don’t have the luxury of finishing a whole pattern in a day as Jane Brocket suggests is possible. So far I’ve knitted a floppy hat and a hot water bottle cover and have started a cotton apron. The book also has instructions for making jumpers, scarves, socks, bags, cushion covers, bunting and dishcloths, as well as the highly desirable tea cosy that is on the cover. I love the combination of the beautiful and the practical and especially the lengthy introduction to each pattern. Brocket explains her choice of yarn and her inspiration for each item, and I found this both helpful and encouraging.

“Gentle knitting is knitting for comfort and to create comfort.” Using this book has certainly motivated me to sit down and slow down and enjoy creating with wool. In her reassuring introduction, Brocket describes her journey to gentle knitting. Stressed by detailed patterns and tension and disillusioned by unfinished projects and unworn garments, she discovered that it was more important to focus on the yarn and enjoyment. Gentle knitting is knitting you can put down and pick up easily again; it’s knitting for the love of the yarn, the feel and the product you create.

I’m enjoying The Gentle Art of Knitting so much that I’ve bought a copy for my mother-in-law, an experienced knitter who was nonetheless drawn to the colourful patterns. There is something for everyone in this beautiful book.

Filed Under: For Adults, Ideas, Issue 26

Free Play

January 5, 2012

Tim Gill is one of the UK’s leading writers and thinkers on childhood play. He talks to JUNO about why play has changed and what we can do about it

Why are you concerned about the way children play?

From the moment they are born, children have an appetite for experience. But because of changes in everyday family life, we are frustrating these natural learning impulses. Too many children have an unbalanced diet of play. They are losing touch with Nature and the outdoors. They are starved of risk, challenge and the opportunity to explore. And they grow up disconnected from the communities in which they live. This shrinking of children’s horizons is most dramatic for school-age children. One study showed that in 1971, 80% of 7- and 8-year-olds went to school without their parents. By 1990, this had fallen to just 9%: a nine-fold drop.

Why do you think this has happened?

It’s a complex story. I think our growing dependence on the car is perhaps the biggest cause. As any parent knows, traffic danger is a real threat, and has got worse. The accident statistics show a fall in child pedestrian casualties – but that is largely because there are fewer children out and about these days. What is more, too many children and families experience their neighbourhoods not first-hand, but through a windscreen. This fuels an atomised, insulated outlook that undermines trust and neighbourliness.

Another cause is that parents are working longer hours, so they are not around at home so much, either for play, or simply as a port of call while their children are playing out [see below]. We have also seen the growth of what I call a zero risk mindset, so that we seem unable to tolerate any adverse outcomes around children whatsoever, no matter how trivial or how rare. Being a ‘good’ parent is seen as being a controlling parent, and many parents are fearful of being blamed or shamed as irresponsible. However, the climate is changing, and some parents are speaking out against this prevailing culture.

Do you think technology is to blame?

Screens and gadgets are as much a symptom as a cause. Children’s everyday freedoms have been falling since at least the 1970s – well before the explosion of new technology. One reason there is such a huge market for gadgets and games is that parents are desperate for ways to keep their offspring occupied and amused, but don’t feel they can let them play outside. I am not saying children don’t like new technology. But study after study – including one I recently helped carry out – shows that given the choice, most children would rather be playing outside with their friends than stuck indoors in front of a screen.

Many parents are fearful of new technology. Their fears are amplified because children get to grips with it so easily: they are digital natives, while we grown-ups are largely digital immigrants. To anyone who understands the richness of children’s appetite for experience, this should be no surprise. They love novelty, and the opportunity to explore, create, and work things out. New technology is for many children just more territory to be discovered and played with.

So I don’t think there’s anything intrinsically wrong with children watching TV, playing computer games or using other gadgets, as long as it is in moderation. Indeed, the image of the lone child at his console, face lit up by the display, is a misleading stereotype. For many children, games, websites and programmes are part of their social lives, with tricks, tips and plot lines intensively shared, debated and analysed. The real problems start when children spend so long playing in front of screens that they are being starved of real-world experiences. As with so many things in life, a balanced diet is what matters.

As parents, what can we do about it?

There are far too many people out there trying to tell parents how to do their job. I don’t intend to join that group. So the first thing I would argue for is a relaxed approach. Children are pretty resilient, and many of our anxieties about them arise because we underestimate their competences and capacities. That’s a key message of my book No Fear, and it is borne out by research.

I would encourage parents to think about their own childhoods, and remind themselves of the most resonant experiences from when they were young. When I give talks, I ask parents: where were your favourite places to play? What did you do? Who was there with you? Almost without exception, the memories that come back are of outdoor, adventurous, even dangerous places – and also, places where there weren’t any grown-ups around.

I think it’s vital for children to have a taste of freedom: to know what it feels like to take responsibility for themselves, and to have to sort things out without a parent or teacher over their shoulder ready to help them. This doesn’t mean abandoning children to the fates, or ignoring their needs. It’s about learning to untie the apron strings, use your peripheral vision, and hold back from leaping in at the first sign of trouble. It’s what I call benign neglect. It served countless previous generations of parents well, and I think it is in urgent need of a revival.

 

What do you think of the Playing Out initiative?

Playing Out is an inspirational project: possibly the best idea I’ve come across in 15 years of advocating for children’s play and free time. A lot of my work focuses not on parents, but on politicians and planners: people whose decisions make a huge difference, but who rarely see the world through children’s eyes. It is because of these people that neighbourhood streets, which only a generation or two ago were such important places for children, have become dominated by cars.

It can seem like this is inevitable, and irreversible. The genius of Playing Out is that it shows we can do something about it. We really can open up streets once more for children to play – for a few hours a week. It doesn’t take any money. It doesn’t take any new laws. It doesn’t take much time. All it takes is a little cooperation and good will, and a helping hand from the authorities.

The results are breathtaking. The range and breadth of play is amazing, with children bringing out their toys, skates and bikes out to ride around, organising impromptu games and performances, and playing with children of different ages – quite unlike the rest of their lives. Adults find out the names of children they never knew lived on the street, and get to meet other parents too. This builds up levels of trust and neighbourliness and helps children to feel a real sense that they are part of their community. It is an immensely positive and potentially hugely popular vision.

Tim Gill fell into children’s policy work almost by accident in the mid-90s, when the topic of children’s play and free time got under his skin. The birth of his daughter in 1998 made the issues more personal. He ran the Children’s Play Council (now Play England) for six years before going freelance in 2004. Tim lives and works in North East London with his family. www.rethinkingchildhood.com

No Fear: Growing up in a Risk Averse Society by Tim Gill, Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation

 

Playing Out

Playing Out was set up by parents in Bristol who felt that children needed more freedom to ‘play out’ on their own street, without danger from traffic. They came up with the idea of short, after-school road closures, stewarded by residents. Through traffic is diverted and residents are asked to drive in and out very carefully. Children are left to do their own thing – scooting, cycling, chalking, football; the adults just make the space safe and stand back.

Co-founder Alice Ferguson says, “Playing Out is a simple and practical way of saying, ‘Look – children live here and this space belongs to them too!’ Response to the idea has been amazing – many people, not only parents, feel it’s time to reverse the ‘retreat from the streets’ we have seen over the past few decades.” Everyone benefits from a safer, friendlier street and children love having the opportunity to play outside and make new friends right on their doorstep. Neighbours get to know one another and this creates a sense of community and collaboration.

Bristol City Council has responded to enthusiasm for the idea by allowing streets to open for play up to once a week, using a simple Temporary Play Street procedure. Alice says, “We really welcome this step towards unstructured outdoor play becoming a normal part of children’s everyday lives.”

To find out how to activate street play in your neighbourhood visit www.playingout.net, email alice@playingout.net or ring Alice on 07896 957141.

Filed Under: Issue 26, online content

Interview with Naomi Stadlen – What Mothers do

December 8, 2011

The following interview was first featured in Issue 3 of JUNO in 2004.

As well as being the author of What Mothers Do, Naomi is a qualified existential counsellor and psychotherapist. She specialises in seeing parents of young children. She has been a breastfeeding counsellor for more than twenty years, and for over twelve years she has run a weekly discussion group, Mothers Talking, which meets at the Active Birth Centre in London. Born in London in 1942, in the middle of the Second World War, she has three children now aged thirty-one, twenty-five and twenty-one, and lives in North London.

What did you do before having children? After leaving university, I first went into publishing for four years. Next I worked in two psychiatric hospitals, where I started weekly discussion groups for patients. I was asked to close the first group after a few weeks, because, said my boss, discussion was having ‘a subversive effect’ on the patients. I was startled at the power of a simple discussion. I started another discussion group in a locked ward of geriatric women at another hospital. Here I was supported by my boss, but had to stop after a few months because I was expecting our first child.

Tell us about Mothers Talking: Some years later, I met Janet Balaskas, and became the breastfeeding counsellor for her Birth Centre, as it then was. In 1990, Janet asked if I would hold open mornings at the Active Birth Centre where mothers could come to talk. I said I’d love to. That was how Mothers Talking started.

Mothers Talking is a weekly discussion group for mothers to sit down and take stock.

There is pressure on mothers today to minimise mothering and quickly return to work. Also, mothering itself can seem competitive and exhausting. On one level, it can look like a race to hurry the child over a long succession of hurdles. However, in a calm setting, each mother can tell her story and explore, not just how many hours her baby sleeps at night, but what her deepest values are. Then the competitive race transforms into her unique personal path. I also think it important for mothers not to deluge one another with advice – unless they specifically ask for it. I usually invite each mother to say how her week has been, and mothers pick up points from one another’s stories as they reply.

As I listen, I forget that I am a grandmother now, and grow excited by the momentous questions that mothers have to confront. Asking the questions, in itself, affirms the value of being a mother.

Why did you decide to write What Mothers Do?

The idea of writing ‘something about mothering’ had been with me for a long while. Nothing in print seemed to reflect my own experience.

I would notice how mothers were often denigrated as mothers, but admired for what they could do in addition to mothering. For example, a few years ago, the Government set up an initiative called ‘Listening to Women’, and published the results in Voices (1999). There are two photos of mothers at home with their babies. Both photos show the mother at her computer.

I used to notice mothers in the street, pushing their children in their pushchairs, not talking to them and looking disheartened. Today mothers are more likely to be laughing and chatting loudly on their mobiles, communicating to other adults over the heads of their children. Surely they don’t realise their own importance as mothers. Yet, as a counsellor, I see people who have difficulty as adults in creating and sustaining intimate relationships. I believe the difficulty is related to the extent to which genuine mothering is belittled. Mothering means creating a relationship with each child. There isn’t a better way for us to learn how to relate.

I wanted to write about all this – but where did one begin? I used to take one of my children to weekly gym classes, where he got certificates as he progressed.

One day, he presented me with a brightly coloured ‘Certicate’ for being a mother. In the same way that his certificates listed what he had attained in gym, he listed ‘patience,’ ‘forgiving’, and other qualities, putting into words what he thought my mothering was. His ‘Certicate’ is one of my most precious possessions. It absolutely inspired me to go on writing.

Why did it take you ten years to write the book?

I wrote, in my Introduction to What Mothers Do, that it took me a while to realise that the right words do not exist for the experiences I wanted to describe. But there was also a problem with finding a publisher. I’d draft an introduction and then send it to a carefully selected shortlist of publishers. Back would come rejection letters. I’d telephone to ask why they’d rejected my work.

“We don’t enter into discussions with authors, I’m afraid.”

“But if you don’t tell me, I’ll never learn. I wonder if it’s anything to do with the sensitivity of working mothers to a book promoting mothering.”

“You could say it was something like that.”

Then I’d put down the phone and start to rethink and rewrite. I’m glad now, because I’ve ended up with a book which seems much stronger than the book I originally thought of. But at the time I felt disheartened. That’s an understatement.

However, I kept writing, and could see that I was producing original work. I’d print out a chapter and take it to the Italian cafe on Parliament Hill, which is always crowded with mothers and children. I’d sit over a coffee and read my chapter, with their voices in the background. Was my chapter relevant to these real mothers around me? No, I needed to rewrite. I showed chapters to a few friends, who were supportive but critical. More rewriting.

It took nine years. In 2002, I tried another selection of six British publishers. If they all turned me down, I thought I’d try some American ones. My husband and I went off on a holiday, and I rang home to ask one of my children if any rejection letters had arrived. “I’m afraid so,” was his sympathetic reply. There were three.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said to my husband. “I can’t rewrite any more. I’ve written as well as I can.”

I loved his reply: “I can’t think of anything you could improve either.”

Next evening, I rang home again. “You’ve got an email from a publisher,” said my son. “She wants you to send her some more.”

That was a wonderful moment. The email was from one of the editors at Piatkus.

The whole process of writing the book has changed me. I only seem to discover what I want to say through writing it down – which is what I am doing now, in response to your interview.

Last summer, my daughter came to stay with us with her baby, our grandson. She asked me how my book ended, so I showed her. The ending was a comment on some lines from Wordsworth’s Prelude. She was adamant that this was wrong. “It should end with you,” she said.

“It’s your book”. She was right, my lovely daughter, but what kind of ending should it be? Her baby cried, and I sat with her while she held him and sang and rocked and comforted him to sleep. Next morning, I told her I was going to rewrite the ending. I remember I seemed to hear a rhythm of words, but no content. I sat down at my computer, ‘listened’, and the last three paragraphs almost wrote themselves. I was awed. I went downstairs and said to my youngest child, “I’ve just finished my book.” He stood up, beamed, and shook hands with me.

My husband opened a bottle of iced elderflower wine (it was the middle of the 2003 heat wave), my daughter came in with her baby, and this was one of the best moments of my life.

How do you think things have changed for mothers over the past few decades and is there a growing awareness of the true value of mothering?

I think there has been a strong reaction against mothering in the second half of the twentieth century, predicted by Aldous Huxley in Brave New World (1932), in which he shows a student blushing with embarrassment at the very word ‘mother’. The student was embarrassed for precisely the reasons that trouble people today. There are small signs that this may change – but it hasn’t yet. It was very difficult to find a publisher for What Mothers Do. There seems to be an ongoing trend to publish books which disparage mothering by ridiculing babies, and reducing mothering to a series of impersonal chores.

What are your future plans and projects?

I don’t have plans and projects. It’s more a process of ‘listening’ for the next step forward. At the moment, mothers who have read What Mothers Do tell me they have been moved by it and many have bought copies to give to family members and friends. So I am wondering how best to build on this.

 

 

Filed Under: Issue 3, online content, Relationships

Golden Path – Part 1

May 10, 2011

The Golden Path

A tool for navigating relationships

Standing on wobbly legs, leaning against a low table, the toddler looks gingerly over her shoulder. She smiles at her parents, who sit watching her, then shifts her balance and begins to take her first step. Her parents are out of their chairs, reaching forward, hands extended, smiling and encouraging – “How wonderful… you’re walking!” – and then the triumphant infant sinks into their arms, beaming. “Well done, little one!”

We believe that moments such as the one described above lay down crucial patterns for our future. Patterns such as the way in which we will think, our attitudes, our emotional health, the ways in which we will choose to act (and react), and even our physical posture. These moments are so important because they programme our neural pathways, linking initiative, movement, pleasure, love, trust and relationship. We call this pattern The Golden PathSM 1.

Through decades of work with adult learners, as well as through being parents, we have discovered that The Golden Path can be learned and then used in many situations, and that it achieves magical results with children, their parents and other adults. Part of the magic of this approach is that through deeply connecting with our children we also grow and heal ourselves.

The Golden Path is composed of five steps, and we have found it to be useful for all sorts of interaction.

Step 1: Welcome

Welcome whatever our child brings, regardless of the time or timing – “Come and look at this…”, “Help me…”

In the moment when we respond to our child, we can use the opportunity to reflect on times in our own life when we do and do not feel welcome (or welcoming).

As we do this, we can remind ourselves that the child’s observable behaviour is an expression of what troubles or excites her at that particular moment. The challenge is to identify with her and…

Step 2: Recognise

Recognise what our child is seeking to achieve, no matter how illogical it may seem to our ‘know better’ brain. This gives us as adults the opportunity to reflect on times when we are or are not given recognition (or miss the chance to acknowledge someone else we care about), and where this may lie in our history. While doing this we can be watchful for how we can…

Step 3: Support

Support our child in ways that fully represent his intention.

Whatever ‘good’ idea, whatever experience we may be able to give to our child, can we resist the temptation, and instead learn what he wants to do for himself? To support him on his own terms is deeply empathic and builds his self-confidence and trust.

As we do this, we can reflect on what support we need in our lives, and the support that others around us may also need. Connecting in this way to the quality of support allows us to…

Step 4: Strengthen

Through our love, and through the preceding steps, we strengthen our children’s ability to build their confidence to develop a strong sense of self, that is appropriate and is authentically rooted in what they wish to do – and how they wish to be, and give ‘right’ expression to this through their behaviour.

Through strengthening our child, we as adults integrate our own inner child and grow in those places where The Golden Path within us needs strengthening. In this way we come to

Step 5: Separating

We choose the mood or spirit in which we wish to part from our child, if only for a few minutes while we both shift focus. It is this mood that will be active in our child (and in us) at the next opportunity we have to welcome his attention.

Through this process we are truly developing the mindset, emotional maturity and socially response-able (responsible) behaviour that our children will need to take over the job of their own growth and development as part of their maturing in their adult life.

Instinctively parents may apply The Golden Path at key moments in their child’s development, such as learning to walk or to ride a bike. However, at other times life may be too busy and the habit of saying “Not now” or “I’ll be with you later” may just lead us to miss the moment to grow our child’s ability and heal ourselves.

The effect of The Golden Path is at its most potent from birth up to nine years (give or take a couple of years), during our prime time of emotional and intentional growth.

We have found that The Golden Path can be used frequently for significant ongoing situations (for example, supporting a child in learning to play an instrument) or for less significant issues (such as being interrupted when we are reading), and it even works with people up to their late eighties. Applying these principles can transform our irritation as parents at being distracted from our preoccupations into the satisfaction of true and mutual development.

And, being human, we will often miss these moments. So what do we do then? Well, we apply The Golden Path to ourselves! If we judge ourselves or feel concern for the effect our actions have had on our child, then we can welcome these feelings. We can recognise how a particular feelings works within us, and what it may lead us to say or do. We can support ourselves through this reflection and observe our pattern. Having done so, we will realise that even the missed moment has given us the opportunity to integrate more of our own parenting process, which in turn will strengthen us for the next opportunity that arises.

 

What does The Golden Path look like?

An afternoon. I have a pile of plans for my time.

My youngest comes up to me. “I’d like to make an apple pie.”

I feel mild irritation at the interruption and then realise I want to support her creative initiative. Here’s an opportunity.

“What do you need?”

She lists the ingredients and we gather them together.

“Could you prepare the apples, Mum, while I make the pastry?”

Hmm, I thought I’d done my bit.

However, her request is clear and direct and I can support her. I recall how my mother helped me in the kitchen, as I helped her, peeling or washing up.

“Sure.”

My daughter starts humming. I notice, with a smile. Ha… we are on The Golden Path! The kitchen is a warm, companionable, space.

I hand the peeled apples over.

“Thanks, Mum.”

I return to my jobs with renewed spirit and focus.

Later, we all enjoy a delicious pie and acknowledge our daughter’s skill as a pastry cook.

 

Note: Not all situations can be responded to immediately, but we can always find a way to welcome and recognise the request coming from our child.

 

Footnote:

1. The Golden PathSM is a tool for navigating relationships designed to support people at all stages of their lives including the crucial phase of 0-9 years of age. The Golden PathSM is the intellectual property of Consulting People Ltd. Anyone wishing  to use the The Golden PathSM in a commercial context needs written permission from CPL before such use.

 

Next article in Issue 24: Suporting older children to work with the Golden Path in their developing relationships

Gill Avery and Mike Vernon are co-founders of Consulting People Ltd. and Gill is also co-founder of Consulting Women. Through years of involvement in adult learning and development, and parenting their own family, they understand that the foundation for an adult is laid down in childhood. They have therefore developed navigation and engagement tools that they use with their clients and all their ‘children’.

www.consultingpeople.co.uk

www.consultingwomen.co.uk

 

Written by Gill Avery and Mike Vernon

Photo by Gill Avery

Filed Under: Back issues, online content, Relationships

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