I have a deep and growing sense of humor for my walk as human being and even more for my walk as mother of another human being. You see, under the influence of complete ignorance that I was operating under 13 years ago, I made a prayer asking to bring in and birth a super conscious being that would be an instrument of great change for the world. The reason I say ignorance is that if I happened to have been even slightly conscious of the prayer I was praying, I wouldn’t have asked such a thing. Such spiritual ignorance as well as spiritual arrogance.
Praying to be mother of the next Buddha is almost as idiotic as the time I prayed for patience. After praying that prayer, everything in my life unraveled in disastrous appearing life situations creating ample, rich opportunities for me to cultivate patience. Almost 30 years ago I prayed on bended knee that God would use me to serve the highest purpose here on earth or take me home. I have to admit on more than one occasion back in those ignorant days, I secretly pined for door number 2.
One of the most hilarious things I remember about myself 13 years ago was that I actually believed myself to be a very peaceful being filled with loving kindness and friendliness toward all sentient beings. My illusion and self-delusion were shot to hell with the arrival of motherhood.
There were times in the past that I just didn’t like my kid. He got under my skin, ruffled my feathers and wore me down. How could someone so small be so irritating?
Perhaps only another parent with a child who has a neurodevelopmental disorder could nod their head in agreement about the severe in-home trials and tribulations that a child with neurologic disabilities can bring to the family’s table. Is it any wonder that the divorce rate is double the national average when a family copes under the constant stress of extreme behavioral challenges?
Mothering through these enormous challenges has taught me the deepest compassion for all acts that are committed in ignorance. I finally understand murder, abuse and all variety of acts that occur in the midst of unconsciousness and triggered egos.
Parental ego. Oh that I would be such a good mother that I would have a nice, perfectly behaved child to parade around reflecting to myself and everyone else how wonderful of a person I am. I learned the hard way… through experience, that parenting has it’s own sneaky ego, and the parenting ego is no less sickening or revolting than the other flavors of the ego. The social equity a parent can receive from a well-behaved child is enormous and infectious. The feel good hit of an honor roll child is intoxicating. We all want the bumper sticker. I know you want one too.
My son has a huge bright orange Parrot Fish named Fred that spends his whole day anxious and on-alert in his little tank swimming around furiously trying to protect his territory while hilariously attacking his own reflection. He sees his reflection in the tank and mistakes it for another fish. It’s the same behavior everyday. He doesn’t seem to get it. He is fighting himself, stirring himself up and entirely angry with an illusion.
I sit on the edge of my son’s bed watching Fred and his antics and wonder if my son is like Fred, questioning all authority and completely anxious trying to protect himself from some invisible invasion. His needing to be right all the time, is it an attempt at creating a safe haven from the unpredictable and unknown? Attacking and blaming everyone else’s image for his unhappiness every day because he’s uncomfortable with change?
Everyday he repeats the same battles, struggles with his emotional ups and downs and resists most everything that shows up in his experience. My son also gives me the gift of zero teaching moments for me to feel like a good parent. I parent without knowing if I make a difference, am doing a good job, or knowing if I’m truly seen or loved by my son. The gift of this kind teaches what real unconditional love and acceptance are. When we love because we’re loved back, it’s not unconditional. When we love because it feels good it’s not unconditional.
I wonder if my son will ever come to understand and recognize what is real and true. I wonder if he will one day mature enough to awaken to how he’s caught in illusion. I wonder if he will ever know the truth that he creates his own misery and is the only one that has the power to create his experience of happiness? I wonder all these things and wonder if there will ever be an effective teaching moment for me to be able to impart these precious pearls.
As I ponder upon this I see that every moment is a teaching moment and the greatest lesson is for me, not him. I can point all of these questions back to myself. Will I one day mature enough to awaken to how I’m caught in illusion, and will I ever know the truth that I create my own misery and I’m the only one that has the power to create my experience of happiness? I clearly see who the teacher is, and where the teaching moment exists. It’s right here in front of me in this moment.
I can stop looking for my son to “get it” and instead I can focus on getting it myself. I, being these things I speak of, is a far more powerful teacher than my telling of a great truth. My only job is to live it and to let go of him or anyone else living it. When we live into the truth of who we are then we are released of the need for anyone else to be anything other than who they are. I am assured that I am fully present when I can accept whatever shows up in my experience without wishing it were differently. Without resisting the moment I am free.
In this freedom I can laugh at myself compassionately. I’m able to serve in a state of awakened presence that 13 years ago when I unconsciously and ignorantly prayed for a child that would be a change agent for the universe, the cosmic joke was that I would be the universe and this child would change me.
