As the mother of two boys under three I've been waiting for the time when I 'hit my stride', when I feel that I've got it all under control; like you do when you've been in a job for a while. I thrived on to-do lists in the professional world, on that sense of satisfaction when a task is complted, and especially on that glass of champagne in the boardroom to celebrate a major milestone. But in parenting the feeling that I've got it all under control is rare (if not extinct) and it's dawning on me that whenever it feels all under control, it's out-of-control again moments later.
This drive to control my world may be my enemy. It's always thwarted by one- and two-year old antics: a dropped bowl of cereal coinciding with aa toilet-training toddler who has just wee-ed on the floor and a cat who wants to eat the spilt breakfast. "AAAAAGGGGHHHH!" I want to scream, "Come on, world, why won't you give me a break?".
So, yearning for a better way, I take a deep breath and get on with cleaning things up, one mess at a time. And I get a little insight that I could actually embrace and celebrate the fact that my life is not my own; that me and my kids, my hubby and the cat, we're all in this together.
One of the prime Buddhist philosophies is that there is no 'self', that we are all connected. This perspective gives us freedom from the struggle to gather and control things for our self, which is really just an ongoing source of misery. And so I clean up the mess and look at my children, seeing a part of myself, knowing in my heart that what I do for them I do for me. And I feel that long-yearned for happiness returning, like a shining light beaming into my chest.
One of the prime Buddhist philosophies is that there is no 'self', that we are all connected. This perspective gives us freedom from the struggle to gather and control things for our self, which is really just an ongoing source of misery. And so I clean up the mess and look at my children, seeing a part of myself, knowing in my heart that what I do for them I do for me. And I feel that long-yearned for happiness returning, like a shining light beaming into my chest.
Stepping away from the need to have it all under control, from the desire to be a supermum has given me permission to embrace the muck and poo of parenting. LIke my kids, I'm tring to exist only in that one instant, completely outside of time. When the daily moments of chaos erupt, I'm trying to be still and let go of the need to be in a hurry to get to the next thing. And in some way the repetitions of motherhood (the same episodes of Play School, the same books, the ritual of making up a bottle) can begin to feel like acts of meditation, a quiet kind of letting go.
So perhaps the 'stride' we're waiting to hit is not one of having it all under control but instead riding the chaos, embracing the craziness of another day with your beautiful, needy, in-the-moment kids. And hey, we could always celebrate our myriad of tiny achievements with a glass of champagne amongst the mess.
