seeking

I've posted before about my desire to be a better parent for Amy. To have a bit less of the yelling my head off about her not cleaning her room, of the hurry up, the shut up.

Yesterday she said she didn't want to go out with me because I was an old bag and although she didn't even say it with conviction, I know that she is starting to realise that I am not always the most fun person to be around (I'm also the safest person to practice lashing out on but that's a whole other post).

Worse, I know (really, I know) that yelling and nagging teaches her nothing good and doesn't even get the job done. It is a completely negative and nonconstructive approach that usually escalates and ends in tears and apologies.

So even though I know I shouldn't, most days I do.

And I've spent a lot of time thinking about strategies for parenting her differently, to diffuse the situations which escalate into conflict, and to modify my expectations of her and to be more proactive about discipline and boundaries.

But there is more lurking down there. Because this isn't just about her. Soon it all be happening again with Wil. As I've said before I believe that kids experience the world from the wholeness within them, not simply as a product of what I do.

So I'm not off on some woe is me I'm such a bad parent thing here. Despite all the grouchiness, I know I do OK. My kids are happy and well fed and stimulated and bright and well adjusted. They both love me and I love them. A little yelling is unavoidable and not so terrible on the grander scale.

But equally the reality is that I am not always happy in my parenting and I spend way too much time wishing I was elsewhere. Wishing that what was going on around me was different, brooding on the past, worrying about the future. Blaming the world for how I feel and behave.

And when I was reading this post I was thinking that just like Alison, it's not even just a one way yearning because when I'm not with the kids, I wish I were. Even when I am pursuing something else I love I am mired in this crankiness and frustration and sadness of being stuck. And it takes so much energy to hold all that stuff all the time.

It's been something of a revelation in my life that it ain't the world that's the problem but our reactions to it. It isn't money or or a nice house or a good relationship or a sunshiny spring day that makes us happy but our appreciation of those things, and the things that can hurt us are not the mean words and cruel deeds of others or the annoying yapping dog, but our own inability to respond more positively to them. So I've been thinking more about me and why I keep doing this.

You see I can't do anything to stop Amy being a pain in the arse sometimes, just like I can't stop the guy in traffic who yells abuse at me. But I can choose how I react to it. I can choose to see that she is acting out because there's something going on for her that she is struggling to deal with. Showing compassion for her struggle is of much more help to her than telling her I'm disappointed she hasn't got her shit more comprehensively together. It's more helpful because ultimately she doesn't need to be told what to do, she needs support whilst she decides what she wants to do. Me accepting her (even when she's being horrible) is of greatest help in her being able to accept herself and that's the key to her wanting to be a better person too.

I don't consider myself a Buddhist, but there is a lot about Buddhism which resonates with me and living in Thailand really cemented that. I like that it is a set of beliefs which focuses us on ourselves and our ability and responsibility to be mindful of our impact on our little circle in the world. I like that living the Buddhist way does not lead us to judge others, to be dogmatic, excluding, intolerant or passive recipients of spirituality.

I like that Buddhism is forgiving and compassionate and encourages us to see that everyone is imperfect and suffering (hello! it's not just me!!). But I like that it doesn't do this in some warm and fuzzy a higher being tells us so preachy way. It says that you should be compassionate to others because it is more likely to give you a better outcome, that fighting fire with fire just burns the whole place down and since we are all connected here as humans we all have an incentive to want everyone to be happier, healthier, more compassionate.

This just seems really rational and obvious to me, so finding a book which is written by someone like me about how to seek out a way of living and parenting that makes that real is a great comfort to me. When I picked up Buddhism for Mothers I was searching for the calm the title promised, for a greater sense of peace about myself and my mothering, and a way to help create that for my children. And it has provided me with a lot of insight already, even though I haven't read that much of it.

I think perhaps I am not so much seeking a way to be a better mother as a way to better accept the imperfections of mothering. To release myself from the anxiety, frustration, anger, sadness and strategising that seems to prevent me from fully enjoying the good bits and from being able to take the bad bits with grace. Of course doing this is what will make me a better mother and a better person when I am not with my children, but understanding the difference between cause and effect here has been a watershed.

And since working this out I have become aware of how often it is not the initial problem which really irks, but the response and counter response. When I fuck up I am pretty much always embarrassed to have done so and having someone point it out to me not only embarrasses me further it usually makes me mad and self righteous and stubborn. The other person is usually pretty indignant to feel the heat of the anger, since they either think they have the right to tell me off, need to teach me a lesson, or think they are being helpful in case I didn't realise I was being stupid. That they can't see that they have humiliated me and treated me like an idiot for assuming I don't know when I fucked up makes me even madder....you can see how quickly the initial problem gets lost.

I'm not expecting miracle cures and neither the book nor common sense would imply that this is anything but a small step on a very long journey. But I feel like there is a good solid path ahead and I'm kind of looking forward to the scenery.