Buddhism for Mothers E-Book

Sarah Napthali

• Herausgeber: Allen & Unwin
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 326

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Parenthood can be a time of great inner turmoil for a woman, yet parenting books invariably focus on nurturing children rather than the mothers who struggle to raise them. This book is different. It is a book for mothers. Buddhism for Mothers encourages mothers to gain the most joy out of being with their children. How can this be done calmly and with a minimum of anger, worry and negative thinking? How can mothers negotiate the changed conditions of their relationships with partners, family and even with friends? Using Buddhist practices, Sarah Napthali offers coping strategies for the day-to-day challenges of motherhood that also allow space for deeper reflection about who we are and what makes us happy. By acknowledging the sorrows as well as the joys of mothering Buddhism for Mothers can help you shift your perspective so that your mind actually helps you through your day rather than dragging you down. This is Buddhism at its most accessible, applied to the daily realities of ordinary parents.

Leseprobe

Praise for Buddhism for Mothers

‘Buddhist practitioner Napthali has written an eminently practical book that gives frazzled mothers useable advice and empathy . . . precisely because she is not a teacher and is in the midst of mothering, Napthali offers the approachable and authentic perspective of a rank-and-file practitioner who lives the techniques and situations she writes about.’—Publishers Weekly

‘Napthali’s book focuses on Buddhist practices that will help mothers become calmer and happier in themselves. Follow her advice and we all know what comes next—better parenting.’—Sunday Telegraph

‘Funny, uplifting, reassuring, real and wise. A truly “mothering” book for mothers.’—Stephanie Dowrick

‘This is an excellent, practical guide to everyday Buddhism, not just for mothers, but for everyone who has ever had a mother.’—Vicki Mackenzie,

author of the best-selling Why Buddhism?

‘Buddhism for Mothers is an oasis of calm and tranquility in the otherwise chaotic existence that is motherhood.’—Mind & Body

‘This is Buddhism at its most accessible.’—Conscious Living

‘. . . approach the day-to-day “highs and lows” differently and more positively, and yes—even more calmly.’—Childbirth Education Association

Praise for Buddhism for Mothers with Young Children (formerly titled Buddhism for Mothers with Lingering Questions)

‘Napthali is a lovely writer. She skilfully weaves interviews with other parents into her own thoughts. As for guilt, Tibetans don’t even have a word for it, she writes.’—Sydney Morning Herald

‘If you liked her first book, Buddhism for Mothers, then you’ll adore this one. It’ll give you a new perspective on parenting and may even help you enjoy it more.’—Sunday Telegraph

‘This second book from Sarah Napthali . . . had me repeatedly crying out “yes” . . . By being focused, open and more attentive to the present moment we can enjoy a calmer and happier journey through parenthood; a great companion book for mothers struggling to cope with their new role.’—Perth Woman

‘There is much here to learn; through Napthali’s eyes, patience, reflection and calm become the vehicles to a deeper understanding of self, motherhood and family.’—Junior

Praise for Buddhism for Mothers of Schoolchildren

‘I absolutely loved this book. Many of the teachings of “mainstream” Buddhism are ideas we all understand and appreciate in life—and do not require religious awakening nor a set of orange robes to both appreciate and integrate into our lives . . . If reading Buddhism for Mothers of Schoolchildren can bring women anything beyond a strong feeling of empowerment and re-enthusiasm for the beauty of motherhood, it will be the sensation of feeling deeply understood. Of not being alone. Of knowing a few simple shifts in consciousness absolutely have the power to change the direction of a mother’s parenting and subsequently the future lives of her precious children.’—www.australianwomenonline.com

‘Sarah Napthali’s terrific first book Buddhism for Mothers showed new mothers how to be calm and contented in the face of the radical shift in their lives. Now Napthali tweaks her Buddhist theories to suit mothers of school-aged children who might be finding that the busy lives of children are taking everyone away from the core values that lead to a fulfilled life.’—Sunday Mail

‘Warm, wise and engaging, Buddhism for Mothers of Schoolchildren is the latest book by Sarah Napthali. Her first two books concentrated on the experiences of mother with babies, toddlers and young children. However, with her children at school, a mother enters a new phase in her life, playing a new role which is a radically different experience from tending the under-fives . . . Written in an accessible and inclusive style, Buddhism for Mothers of Schoolchildren is a mindful approach to parenting that helps mothers make the experience of parenting schoolchildren meaningful and spiritual.’ —www.femail.com.au

Other books by Sarah Napthali

Buddhism for Mothers of Young Children

(previously published as Buddhism for Mothers

with Lingering Questions)

Buddhism for Mothers of Schoolchildren

First published in 2003

Copyright © Sarah Napthali 2003

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Inspired Living, an imprint of

Allen & Unwin

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ISBN 978 1 74237 377 5

E-book ISBN 978 1 92557 533 0

Typeset and eBook production by Midland Typesetters, Australia

Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

CONTENTS

acknowledgments

preface

chapter 1 buddhism and motherhood

chapter 2 parenting mindfully

chapter 3 finding calm

chapter 4 dealing with anger

chapter 5 worrying about our children

chapter 6 creating loving relationships

chapter 7 living with partners

chapter 8 finding happiness and losing our self-image

chapter 9 meditating

chapter 10 putting it into practice

appendix 1 the noble eightfold path

appendix 2 helpful books

appendix 3 helpful websites

appendix 4 from the scriptures

appendix 5 buddhism for mothers of newborns

bibliography

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Melanie Lotfali, Colleen Sattler and Joanne Fedler are friends who have offered spiritual support and masses of sympathetic joy. Between them, they have reviewed chapters, made eloquent contributions and helped me on my own spiritual path. Susan Murphy has generously allowed me to quote from her exquisite writings and Anne Cushman has generously provided her entertaining article ‘Mothering as Meditation Practice’. Other inspiring contributors have been Betsy Coombs and Chittaprabha from the Western Buddhist Order, and Zen teacher Subhana Barzaghi. I thank the many mothers who have allowed me to include intimate details of their lives. Some prefer not to be named and I appreciate them trusting me to protect their privacy.

I thank my husband, Marek, who despite a lack of interest in all things spiritual has been supportive of and helpful during my writing of this book, and my sons Zac and Alex for allowing me to drag them around libraries and for being outstanding spiritual teachers. My mother-in-law Barbara flew out from Poland to literally hold the baby while I finished draft two. I thank her and take inspiration from her strong desire to be helpful. Thank you to my father Bryan Napthali for all the times he minded the boys, and to my mother Sue, my friend Viv and my sisters Amanda and Jane.

A final thank you to the editors Colette Vella and Jane Gleeson-White for their efforts and insights as well as to Annette Barlow and Emily O’Connell for all their encouragement.

preface

AT THE AGE OF 24 I was living in Jakarta, Indonesia, teaching English. In 1991 Jakarta was an uncomfortable city where you spent hours sitting in traffic breathing air thick with pollution. Frustrations abounded: phones never worked, the immense noise level of 10 million people seldom dropped and as a foreigner you constantly dodged hawkers, beggars, taxi drivers and the curious. Open sewerage canals lined the streets. At first I loved the way this city contrasted with home—its ceaseless buzz, the sensory feast—but eventually, as is the pattern, culture shock set in and I handled it gracelessly.

Although Indonesia is predominantly Moslem, I chanced on a book by an Englishman, Guy Claxton, called The Heart of Buddhism—Practical Wisdom for an Agitated World. Never had I read such radical material and I started highlighting the most inspiring points. My highlighter soon ran out. I urged friends to read the book so I could explore the issues with others—and over the years I have kept returning to it.

The teaching that first struck me with its potential to stir up my life was that humans tend to live in a state of complete delusion. We assume that the way we see the world, the people in it and ourselves, is the way it is. Buddhism teaches that our perceptions are way off the mark and lead us to waste energy striving for an illusory happiness. I could immediately apply this to my bout of culture shock: I could take a fresh look at the irritations around me, see them in new ways and respond differently. Daily annoyances suddenly had the potential to teach me.

Buddhism encourages us to become aware of all our perceptions, thoughts and beliefs, to overcome the misconceptions that ensure our suffering. Learning to be aware of the workings of our minds we find the power to transform our experience of life. In the words of the Buddha:

We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make the world.

According to Buddhist teachings, our capacity for happiness depends on the state of our minds. And as there is no God-figure in Buddhism, responsibility for managing our minds and reshaping our worlds lies completely in our own hands.

For years The Heart of Buddhism constituted my whole understanding of Buddhism until eventually I started to read more widely. I dabbled in Buddhist meditation techniques but was more enchanted by Buddhism as a philosophy than as a practice. I certainly benefited from using Buddhism as a philosophy—the only problem was that it was never supposed to be a philosophy. Rather than being an additional compartment of our lives, true Buddhism is something you practise every moment you can remember to.

In my twenties I could never quite believe that closing my eyes and concentrating on the rise and fall of my breath could be a productive use of my time. I wanted to get things done, to meet people, develop my brain, improve my skills—and have plenty of fun. Although these pursuits were often enjoyable, eventually I lost contact with most of the people I’d met and forgot most of what I’d learned. With hindsight I now realise I would have benefited more from concentrating on spiritual development, for I would now be further along a spiritual path.

When I came to live a drastically different lifestyle in my child-rearing thirties, Buddhism became even more relevant. I wanted to be a wise mother, yet often caught myself thinking and behaving in ways I wasn’t proud of. I felt the need, especially for my children’s sake, to become a more virtuous person: more patient, more compassionate and more positive in outlook. I knew this couldn’t happen through mere wishing—it would take commitment and discipline.

So I started to take spiritual development more seriously. As a mother of one running a business from home, this was challenging and I have to admit to the odd month where I failed to give matters spiritual any attention at all. At other times I found opportunities to meditate daily. Still, I longed to go away on silent retreats for intensive periods of meditation. As a new mother such chunks of time weren’t available, but I could still see that combining the spiritual and the day-to-day was powerful. My irregular meditation practice did make me calmer and more positive. Applying Buddhist teachings did freshen my outlook and make my life run more smoothly.

When I was pregnant with my second son I was aware of the challenges ahead and more than a little anxious. I knew that along with the jubilation, relief and ‘hormonal high’ would come the sleep deprivation, the long hours at home and the difficulty of finding time for myself. I wanted to be mentally prepared, to prevent any slide into depression. Again I escalated my commitment to Buddhist practice: meditating regularly, attending courses and trying to live more mindfully, compassionately and ethically.

I wrote the first draft of this book during that pregnancy, but once the second baby arrived I became more aware of just how difficult parenting could be. I added a chapter on anger—with the challenges of juggling two, I was gobsmacked at how my fuse had shortened when dealing with my first son Zac who was three and a half. I had never experienced much anger with Zac before baby Alex came along. Intense frustration, irritation and despair, yes! But never this violent anger where I wanted to swear and physically lash out. Although I never hit Zac I did sink a fingernail into his thigh once and suddenly I saw that acts of violence against children weren’t necessarily committed by monsters but by parents like me. Alarmed, I knew that anger would become quite a theme for my spiritual practice. But I was not alone. Many of the mothers I spoke with were meeting and wrestling with the same beasts. In Buddhism, anger is seen as unhelpful and harmful and the teachings constantly emphasise the importance of freeing ourselves from its grip.

Being thrust into parenthood can provoke inner turmoil for a mother yet parenting literature invariably focusses on nurturing children rather than the mothers who struggle to raise them. Books about the inner lives of mothers tend to be depressing reports portraying us as victims suffering a lifestyle that nobody warned us about. I felt the need for a book that acknowledged the sorrows, as well as the joys. A book that offered coping strategies that not only worked but could renew our lives on a deep level.

Popular Buddhist literature also pays scant attention to the specific situation of mothers. It assumes you have time for daily meditation sessions, active involvement in a spiritual community and lengthy retreats. Examples of Buddhists are too often celibates, nuns, monks, world travellers, celebrities—people who can teach us a lot but who aren’t facing the everyday challenges of parenting.

Buddhism for Mothers is not a parenting manual but a book for mothers. By presenting some Buddhist practices, it provides a way for mothers to reconnect with their inner selves and become calmer and happier. I have asked scores of Buddhist mothers, ‘How does practising Buddhism help you as a mother?’ The most common answer I hear is the same four words, ‘It makes me calmer.’ And with calmer, happier mothers, our families can only benefit.

In this book I want to use mothers’ lives as the starting point: what are the issues of concern to mothers and how can Buddhist teachings help? Some of the themes I explore include the benefits to us and our children of living in the moment, how we can feel calm, and how we can manage our anger and worries. I also discuss the effects of motherhood on our relationships with our partners, friends and relatives, as well as with our own selves.

In Appendices 2 and 3, I recommend helpful books and websites suited to the interests of mothers.

I should say from the outset that I have taken an eclectic approach to Buddhism in this book, drawing on gems from across the main Buddhist traditions. At times I’ve felt like a thief pillaging Buddhism for treasures of use to mothers and agonised over whether my approach was in tune with the spirit of Buddhism, which encourages us not to mix and match the teachings but to settle with one tradition, headed by a qualified teacher. Of course there is immense overlap between the traditions, and the heart of Buddhism—the core teachings—is the same across the traditions. Still, in some instances I might have made the odd sweeping statement that doesn’t sit perfectly with all schools. My eclectic approach also means that this book is only a starting point, a taste of what Buddhism has to offer. Any serious practice of Buddhism needs to be within one tradition with one qualified teacher and it’s up to each individual to choose where in the vast world of Buddhism they slot in—if at all.

I must also add that I am a very ordinary woman. Most Buddhist writers have a list of credentials as long as any reclining Buddha. Some of them could be enlightened. Most have spent years in retreat and have had some very impressive teachers. I, on the other hand, have never been on a retreat of more than two nights (and I had to take my sons) and can’t remember ever meditating for more than an hour and a half. I’m no spiritual giant but rather someone who is bumbling along, constantly humbled by how much I still need to progress, but also amazed at how much Buddhist practice can improve my day.

It’s my hope that through being so ordinary, I can help mothers leading ‘normal’ lives with all the usual constraints, to understand some of the treasures Buddhism has to offer. That said, I urge readers to keep investigating long after finishing this book. In particular, return to the source and look into the translations of the Buddha’s words in the popular Dhammapada and other scriptures.

Still, in the final analysis it matters little what I, or anyone else, have written, or even what you find in the scriptures, for the simple reason that it is your own experience that fuels your learning. The lessons that your own life is teaching you are the most reliable and the most useful. It’s your journey. Buddhist teachings provide an excellent explanation of whatever is going on along your way, as well as presenting a well-travelled path to happiness.

CHAPTER 1

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 life-long 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.

As a mother you constantly need to ask the questions: ‘What does this moment require?’ and ‘What is important here?’ On bad days I notice my daughters automatically repeating themselves as though they know I’m a distant zombie who’s not quite there with them. When this happens I know to yank myself back into the present and give them close attention. Following Buddhist teachings I’m likely to parent consciously and with awareness of what the present moment requires rather than allowing my children to become the victims of my automatic reactions.

In Why Buddhism? Westerners in Search of Wisdom, a book of interviews with practising Buddhists, Vicki Mackenzie interviews an American mother, Yvonne Rand, who is also a Zen priest and a teacher. Yvonne echoes Anne’s sentiment that parenting can be spiritual practice.

The meditation helped me with my parenting, although my kids were aware of it more than myself. Once when my daughter was visiting a schoolmate the mother asked, ‘Why does your mother meditate?’ and my daughter’s response was, ‘Well, she’s nicer to be around and it looks like she feels better.’ It was quite accurate. One of the effects for me was like waking up after being for a long time in a slumber state. I began to see how much I’d been on automatic. I also felt I’d found home . . .

It became abundantly clear to me that if my relationship with my children was not consistent with what I was studying in Buddhism then in some way I was being a fraud. I was interested in using my relationship with my children as an opportunity for studying my own mind stream, and cultivating self-awareness. I could see that my state of mind had a big effect on my kids.

Melissa has two young daughters aged three and five. She too uses Buddhism to gain control over her emotions. Without becoming complacent, Melissa seems to have achieved a measure of self-acceptance.

Buddhism has helped me become more conscious of the workings of my mind. Whenever I can remember, I try to be aware of how I’m talking to myself. This requires attention and concentration which I develop in meditation.

These days, through increased awareness of my mental mutterings, I try to catch myself being negative. On a bad day with the kids, so much of my thinking is complaining and working myself into a state of despair. When you develop the ability to watch this process you are better able to challenge your perceptions and save yourself from suffering.

We see in all these examples, that when we bring a clear and grounded mind to the challenges in our day, we are more likely to respond constructively.

Insurance against parenting nightmares

Personally, I want to be ready for any testing times in the future, especially my sons’ adolescence. I want to have the inner resources that will make me an asset to their lives, whether it be as a friend, confidant or someone capable of minding their own business when necessary. Like most mothers my greatest fear is that my precious babies might one day suffer. In dark moments, I torment myself with images of their experiencing loneliness, depression or humiliation. And should either of them commit suicide I see myself perishing from grief.

My intuition tells me the wiser I am, the more approachable I’ll be and the greater chance I’ll have of helping my children when they’re in distress. If my children respect me they’re more likely to confide in me. They may struggle to respect me if they see me as out-of-touch with myself, unable to control my emotions or lacking in compassion. They certainly wouldn’t share their worries with someone they saw as set in rigid opinions. By making us more self-aware, practising Buddhism helps us gradually peel away the less skilful layers of our characters and this makes us more approachable for our children when they suffer.

Although the children of skilful parents can still find their way into trouble, with wiser parents the scope for our children to experience misery must decline. As the Dalai Lama put it in The Heart of Buddha’s Path: ‘When parents are warm-hearted, peaceful and calm people, generally speaking their children will also develop that attitude and behaviour.’

Practising Buddhism can make us wiser and, if only for the sake of my children, wise is what I aspire to be. But what is wisdom? When our children are in distress they aren’t necessarily looking for an expert or an authority. They might not want us to provide answers from our reading, our experiences or our travels. In Buddhism wisdom is not about making judgements and knowing the answers. Accepting the mystery in life, refusing to jump to our usual automatic conclusions, a humble attitude of not-knowing—these are what help us to be open and sensitive in all our interactions.

The cause of suffering— the second Noble Truth

As mothers most of us have had some experience of discomfort or anguish, so the first Noble Truth is relatively easy to understand and accept. The second Noble Truth is more of a revelation. It explains that the cause of suffering and unsatisfactoriness is desire. The world we live in has turned us into creatures tormented by innumerable desires. The objects of our desire won’t bring us peace and we are often blind to the effects of our endless striving for them.

We desire to be somebody important, to be admired, to make our fortune, to have endless sources of excitement. We obsessively pursue our goals, telling ourselves that our lives will be all fixed up once we achieve them. We collect masses of stuff because we yearn to be fashionable, tasteful, ‘up there’ or ‘out there’, anywhere but here. Although we see our desires as stepping stones on the way to happiness, they in fact make us overlook any potential for happiness in the present moment.

Adrienne Howley, an Australian Buddhist nun ordained by the Dalai Lama in 1982 and mother of two, was chatting to one of her sons: