SPIRITUALITY AND PARENTING . . .
IF YOU CAN'T BREATHE...LAUGH!
by Carolyn Wilson-Elliott
In the wee hours of a morning, during my son's first month of life, I
rocked Jonathan to sleep after his two a.m. feeding. I had dozed for
a moment or so, lulled by the gentle rhythmic rocking and the heat of
our bodies against one another. When I swam back to consciousness, I
opened my eyes expecting to find Jonathan asleep.
Instead, my son, whose waking moments always reminded me of an
underwater ballet or a sleep walker, was wide awake. His large,
midnight blue eyes sparkled in delight as they explored our
surroundings. At one point in his "travels," he glanced at my face
and moved on. Stopped. Moved back to my face. Realized I was awake.
Shut his eyes tightly, his little body tensed as he feigned sleep.
"You little stinker!" I whispered awed by the level of consciousness
I was witnessing.
Jonathan squeezed his eyes tighter, his grinning mouth open in
soundless laughter while his body convulsed in ripples of delight. I
laughed with him, the sounds he couldn't yet make echoing throughout
the still house.
I held him in my arms all that night, reluctant to end this sacred
moment. For in his playfulness, I had caught my first glimpse of
Jonathan's soul and was caught up in the enchanted spell of my son's
Being.
Something changed in me that night. It was if my heart opened to let
in more of the Universe. And in the twelve years since that moment,
my level of awareness continues to grow, as if mirroring Jonathan's
ever-expanding consciousness.
In the first days of Jonathan's existence, I was overwhelmed by the
responsibility for this tiny creature. Never in my life had I
experienced such primal terror. It went way beyond any fear I had
ever known and I relied upon the routine of motherhood to get me
through each day. Awkwardly, I fed and bathed Jonathan. Changing
diapers was a fifteen-minute ordeal that I struggled to get "right."
(I have no idea how long it would have taken me if I'd had to contend
with diaper pins! Thank the Goddess and disposable diaper
manufacturers!)
Every waking moment – and, from the nightmares that I remember, every
sleeping moment, too – was focused on Jonathan's well being. I felt
possessed. Disoriented. My memory failed me. I couldn't remember how
to do any tasks if they were not related to Jonathan's care. I forgot
to keep appointments, unless they were with Jonathan's doctor. I kept
Jonathan's room immaculate, but forgot to clean the rest of the
house. I couldn't carry on an adult conversation unless I was talking
about Jonathan. I was boring. I was lost.
But, that night, when Jonathan emerged from his sleepwalking state
into consciousness, I woke from my fog of terror and surrendered to
the spiritual path of parenting. And my first lesson was to honor and
revere the Spiritual Teacher the Universe had sent me – my son.
Jonathan's antics reminded me to breathe – and if you can't breathe,
laugh. Our shared laughter that night brought forth my first inkling
that parenting was not a solitary task, but an interaction, an
interconnectedness, an interdependence with an Other. A Sacred
Relationship.
In the months following my night of surrender, I took my first steps
toward spiritual awareness. I moved from the single-mindedness of
childhood and adolescence to what the parenting books call "diffuse
awareness," the ability to be aware of your child while attending to
other tasks. It was difficult at first, and awkward. I resented it.
Gone were the days when I could block out the rest of the world by
snuggling in a chair with the latest science fiction novel. Gone,
too, were endless telephone conversations with friends. No more
immersion into my passions for writing or daydreaming or dancing.
This tiny person had taken over. He had insinuated his essence into
every cell of my being. My whole reality was reduced to the care of
Jonathan.
But, the process of parenting, like any spiritual path, provided both
the motivation and the method for growth. Once again, Jonathan was my
teacher and my mirror. I had always ignored my physical needs when
working, focused solely on getting the job done...perfectly. When
working, I forgot to eat; I ignored fatigue, pushing myself way
beyond my physical limits; I chastised myself for mistakes; and sunk
into depression when I became emotionally overwhelmed. My resentment
about my narrowed world of parenting stemmed from my need to block
out the rest of the world while performing any tasks. Jonathan taught
me how to move out of this place of limited awareness through
self-care.
Jonathan's world revolved around his physical needs. His insistent
demands for food, sleep, dry diapers and attention were loud and
clear. Only when his physical needs were met, could Jonathan engage
with the rest of the world, including me. I finally realized he
couldn't learn when those needs were not being met, and Jonathan was
happiest when he was learning. So, following his lead, I began to
learn how to listen to my own needs: to nap when I needed sleep, eat
when I was hungry, play always, laugh whenever possible.
And my world began to expand. Performing tasks became easier and more
enjoyable. I smiled more often. I began to experience moments of
profound spiritual awareness, of complete inner peace. My body, which
I had always ignored, and my son, who refused to be ignored, taught
me a great spiritual truth: I need to remain connected to my body in
order to experience my spirituality.
***
(c)2000 by Carolyn Wilson-Elliott
Carolyn Wilson-Elliott is a freelance writer and Spiritual Life
Coach. Visit her at www.quantumspirit.com - Spirit International
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