Buddhism for Mothers

A Calm Approach to Caring for Yourself and Your Children

Allen & Unwin

Contents

buddhism and motherhood

MOTHERS OF SMALL CHILDREN are on their own. Apart from our physical isolation from other adults, we often become painfully short of people we can turn to when we crave support. In our pre-mother lives working or studying, we probably had a community of people around us, including allies ever ready to discuss grievances or joke about difficulties. Home alone with children for a large part of the week, we spend less time with other adults. Yet for most of us motherhood is a time when we've never felt more in need of companionship.

Our old friends and family may not understand us; perhaps they don't have children or perhaps their children present different challenges from ours. Parents with sleepless children tend to be surrounded by parents whose children sleep soundly, just as parents with naughty children feel surrounded by parents with placid, well-behaved children. Or maybe when we discuss our problems we find the reactions of our friends and family disappoint us. They may fail to listen effectively: when we raise our worries they might talk about themselves, give us unwelcome advice or change the subject altogether. We may be left feeling unheard, or worse, judged. It's true that other mothers can be great allies, but most of us tend to be poor listeners, if only because our children are constantly interrupting us.

In the event that you know a wise confidant, it's unlikely that this human treasure is available in your times of need. Besides, considerate creatures that we are, mothers are reluctant to burden one person with all our worries, irritations and discomforts.

What about our partners, the people who signed up for the term of this lifelong commitment to parenting? In fairness to them, only a saint would be capable of achieving a deep understanding of the physical and psychological challenges we confront. And let's face it, not many of us found ourselves a saint. Even if we did, they'll probably be at work most of the time.

Yes, motherhood forces women into a new kind of self-sufficiency. Our only hope for mothering happily and wisely lies in developing inner resources to nourish ourselves. Tossed around by the needs of others, mothers give and give, so we must find ways to replenish ourselves. The teachings of the Buddha equip us with a multitude of resources for this job, providing us with insights on coping with disturbing emotions and thoughts, as well as on living with others more calmly and happily.

As mothers we're particularly ripe to hear about Buddhism because we have an intimate understanding of two of its cornerstones: we understand there is suffering in life; and we have experienced a truer love.

Who is the Buddha?

The literal meaning of the word Buddha is 'awakened one'. A number of Buddhists throughout history have become 'awakened' and this means there are many Buddhas, past, present and future. Still, when we talk about the Buddha, we refer to Siddhartha Gautama born around 560 BC in the Himalayas. His father was one of the many kings in India at that time, but otherwise Siddhartha was an ordinary man with no divine authority.

The life stories of Siddhartha were written down several centuries after his death. Different versions exist, but Buddhists aren't concerned about the lack of an 'authorised version'. In Buddhism the story of the original Buddha is of secondary importance to his message that there is a way out of suffering and unhappiness.

The usual life story you hear goes like this:

When Siddhartha was born, a holy man prophesied that this newborn would either become a world leader or a great teacher who achieves enlightenment. Preferring the former, his father prevented Siddhartha from experiencing the outside world. Within the palace walls he arranged for his son a stimulating life which included schooling in arts, sciences and sports.

Eventually, some of the servants told Siddhartha about life outside the palace and triggered his curiosity about the world beyond his walls. Siddhartha started going on excursions and although his father had arranged for the removal of the least fortunate from the streets, Siddhartha came across the aged, the sick, the dead and their grieving relatives. Siddhartha was greatly troubled by the suffering he witnessed and he grew increasingly determined to find out the cause and a way to overcome it. At the age of 29 he abandoned palace life to seek an answer. This meant leaving his wife and his new baby son Rahula (a point about which there is much discussion in Buddhist circles).

For a period of six years, Siddhartha wandered, seeking answers. He experimented with all sorts of practices, including over-indulgence to learn disgust for bodily desires, self-torture, torture inflicted by others, yoga, trances, profound discussion and, finally, fasting. The fasting made him so sick and weak that he broke it and sat down under a tree vowing: 'I will not leave this place until my understanding is complete ... or I die'. After coming to several realisations on the nature of life, the Buddha became enlightened. Vowing to do what he could to alleviate suffering in the world he spent the remaining 45 years of his life teaching.

The Buddha found the answers through his own efforts and Buddhists are called on to do the same. The Buddha's last words before he died were:

Since there is no external saviour, it is up to each of you to work out your own liberation.

What did the Buddha teach?

The essence of the Buddha's teaching is captured by the four Noble Truths. They all mention suffering, which can be understood to include any unsatisfactoriness, imperfection, anxiety, discomfort, irritation — anything the slightest bit unpleasant. The four Noble Truths are:

1. There is suffering.

2. Attachment causes suffering.

3. Suffering can end.

4. There is a path to end suffering.

So suffering and unsatisfactoriness won't end today, but by embracing some Buddhist practices you can start today planting the seeds to improve your life.

There is suffering — the first Noble Truth

The first of the four Noble Truths of Buddhism is that there is suffering. The Buddha used the word dukkha, which best translates as unsatisfactoriness or imperfection. So, the first Noble Truth is that life is inherently unsatisfactory and imperfect. Before motherhood, we may have found this teaching overly pessimistic. If we felt less than happy we could catch a movie, ring a friend or distract ourselves in a myriad ways from any pain. Now our children give us little time to indulge in such distractions. Moreover, we have been through the trials of pregnancy, labour, infants and child raising and hence such a view of life doesn't seem so melodramatic. By now, we have all experienced anguish, even despair.

As mothers we discover life is no light experience. We have responsibilities; pitiable amounts of time to ourselves; desperate worries about whether our children are healthy, 'normal' and able to meet the expectations of the judgemental world around them. We suffer guilt that we're not attending to the hundred other things we could be doing. We agonise over our careers and, in many cases, the loss thereof. In our darker moments we may struggle for self-esteem as we watch the worry lines set in and our body parts begin to point down.

Many mothers remark on how having children changes their experience of watching the nightly news. As mothers, we feel the pain in the world more. We now see victims of crimes, wars and drug addiction as the precious children of suffering mothers. Stories of kidnappings, child abuse or suicide feel like more than we can bear. We understand that any death or loss affects a vulnerable family unit. Our reactions are a sign of our deepened awareness of suffering and unsatisfactoriness in life.

Part of the cause of unsatisfactoriness is what Buddhists call impermanence, or the way that everything must change into something else — nothing stays the same. Everything in life — people, circumstances, objects down to the smallest particle — is in process, and this leaves us with nothing solid and lasting to rely on. Buddhism doesn't deny that happiness is possible, for it is. The problem is that we can't hold onto happiness. As with everything, it passes. A life typically includes birth, ageing, pain and death. We can spend our lives distracting ourselves from these facts but they are inescapable.

You may agree that life has its elements of suffering, but who wants to dwell on these? Buddhism could look like a depressing path if this was as far as you investigated. Happily, the next three Noble Truths present the good news; but for now, if you wanted a summary of what Buddhism is about, take it from the Buddha:

I teach suffering and the end of suffering.

The mind of love

The second reason mothers are ripe to benefit from Buddhism is that we've taken an enormous step towards attaining what Buddhists call 'the mind of love'. As we know, motherhood is about far more than suffering; it's also about a mind-expanding experience of love.

The love of a mother for a child is the truest love around. Loving a child teaches us what real love is: selfless, patient and forgiving. We learn that love is unconditional, non-judgemental and expects little if anything in return. Of course there are times when we resent our children, when they put us in touch with the dark sides of our natures, but overall our relationship with them is one of overwhelming love. As one mother puts it:

After I had a child I realised that all the love I had experienced in the past — especially with partners — was selfish. I was constantly thinking, what's in this relationship for me? And if my expectations weren't met any good feeling would dry up altogether. My daughter has taken me to hell and back but there's nothing she can do to make me stop loving her.

Our love for our children brings us joy, bliss and happiness. What's really inspiring though, is that through loving a child we deepen our capacity to be a loving person for others too. The potential to take what we learn from loving our child and apply it to other relationships is limitless. Many mothers discover this for themselves: they feel more compassion towards other human beings, realising they all started as precious babies worthy of a mother's devotion. These mothers discover a new potential to be patient with the surly cashier, the aggressive driver or the needy relation.

I once took part in a Buddhist course about developing loving kindness in relationships. When giving an example of true love, the teacher always referred to the love of a mother for a child. She used the mother–child relationship to demonstrate how love makes us behave as well as the benefits that true love brings. I feel privileged that as a mother I can understand such teaching from first-hand experience.

For me, the most accurate comment on motherhood is that it makes your life twice as bad and twice as good. There is suffering and unsatisfactoriness, but love saves us.

Gentle, patient and persistent

Another reason mothers are ripe to hear some Buddhist teachings is that they can be so mercilessly demanding of themselves. Many mothers strive to meet the highest standards and expectations of their role only to feel guilty for failing to be the perfect mother, partner, relation, friend, worker, housekeeper, dieter and citizen. So, at a time in our lives when we need support and compassion, we criticise ourselves. Most of us wouldn't dream of talking to others as harshly as we berate ourselves.

Buddhism teaches compassion for all living beings and this must include ourselves. Although Buddhism calls for high standards of behaviour it doesn't require us to waste our energy on feeling guilty — we avoid self-recrimination as unhelpful. When our thoughts and actions are less than wise, all we need is to be aware, to pay attention rather than let them forge ahead unnoticed. We aim to see clearly what is going on. And we actively cultivate more healthy states of mind.

I once heard a meditation teacher advise: 'You needn't become frustrated if your mind wanders during mediation — your approach should be gentle, patient and persistent.' I immediately memorised those words for I could see their value both for meditation and for daily life. To nourish our self-sufficiency, we need to become our own best friends and when we feel like we haven't met our standards remember to be gentle, patient and persistent with ourselves, as this mother has found:

One of the greatest gifts of Buddhism for me is its emphasis on patience and compassion for yourself. Raised in a very Catholic home, as a teenager I would torture myself with guilt for failing to overcome sin. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't stop sinning and ended up feeling defeated and liking myself less. Buddhism required me to become aware of my weaknesses on a deep level. Rather than crushing them on sight, I had to first understand where they were coming from, or what was causing them.

For example, one of my weaknesses is a tendency to be judgemental of others. Buddhism taught me that if I could be aware of the judgements I was making, the thought processes behind them and their effect on my mind and body, then my awareness would give me a much greater chance of becoming more compassionate towards others. There's no need to get angry with myself or feel guilty. I have learned to be more patient and forgiving with myself and this has been a far more effective way to deal with my flaws than punishing myself with guilt.

I teach my children how to behave from a base of love and unconditional acceptance. I'm now learning to do the same for myself.

What can Buddhism offer mothers?

Imagine a calm, serene mother, who accepts whatever life presents her with. Unexpected or unwanted events don't rattle her. She never overreacts. She's aware of the times when she lacks wisdom or compassion but she doesn't waste days feeling guilty, she might do better next time. She's self-aware, but because she has fostered self-love, she is not self-conscious or self-absorbed when she talks to others. Her friends say she is gentle and kind in a genuine way. Her brothers and sisters add that she is clear in her thinking and good at making decisions. She seems to make others feel comfortable, special even, and there's no shortage of people who love her. Her children delight in her company for she makes them feel important and understood. She's creative, spontaneous and quick to laugh because no matter what she's doing, life is play, not work.

Buddhism can help us to become more like this mother, a happier kind of mother. It takes time, but with compassion and patience for ourselves — as opposed to self-recrimination and guilt-mongering — we move a little closer to this ideal as our practice deepens. It's not that Buddhism will create a mass of clone-like Perfect Mothers — there are many millions of ways to be like this mother and still fulfil your own unique purpose.

What do Buddhist mothers say?

One significant effect that practising Buddhism can have on our life is that we might actually be there for it. As our life unfolds, rather than being mentally elsewhere, as we usually are, we strive to be present in the here and now. Chapter 2 explores this idea in more depth, but let's hear what a few Buddhist mothers have to say about the effect of Buddhist teachings on their day-to-day life.

Anne, the mother of two young daughters:

Buddhism helps me to see motherhood as a spiritual journey. At the worst of times, I can remind myself that parenting is practice and practice of the most rigorous kind. My children are my teachers repeatedly forcing me to live in the present moment and give up fantasising about all the exciting and stimulating things I could be doing.