I am not troubled by how different my life is from what I thought it would be, because I have a Great Excuse.

Children.

I have a pass from wondering why I haven’t learned how to play the piano yet, why I haven’t watched Flamenco in Sevilla yet. Because no one could possibly accomplish this with children. Or so I think.

But then I remembered: A summer afternoon 2 years ago when I was restless and a little resentful. And my husband made a wild suggestion: Let’s go to the tapas restaurant in Detroit and watch Flameno. And let’s take our 4 year old and 1 year old. So we packed everyone in the car and drove 90 minutes to a restaurant where everyone was dressed smarter than we were, and all of the dishes were breakable. And we had an AMAZING time. My 4 year old was riveted by the guitar-playing, and charmed the musician. And my 1-year old was immobilized in a carrier and enthralled with the castanets. It was either brilliant or asinine, but we were rewarded.

I can’t help but stare at my bucket list and wonder where else I can pull a rabbit out of my hat. I’m not feeling bold, but if I can find a video on YouTube and practice piano scales for 5 minutes every day, I might find that my life isn’t as far away from what I pictured it would. And maybe then, only in the good ways.

Mothering Ourselves would like to invite you to

Breath in.  Breathe out. Repeat.

Happy new year.

Warmly,
Shantana Goerge
Creator of Mothering Ourselves

~“Tao Mentoring”

At a recent meeting of the Mother’s Self-Renewal workshop, the topic of mindfulness came up.Most of us agreed that it is important to be “mindful”, to be “present”, especially as we engage in the ever-fleeting and quickly-passing task of raising our children. But most of us had similar complaints as most people living in this real-time, fast-paced modern world we live in: “I try to stay present, but I keep getting sucked back into living in the past, worrying about the future”, “I can’t seem to stop the monkey-mind” or even “real life gets in the way of my spiritual practice”. Most of our complaints came down the the same thing: We just don’t know how to be present.

I recently read “The Miracle of Mindfullness” by Thich Nhat Hanh, and what struck me in reading this book  is how boring it sounded to be mindful.  He describes mindfulness not as loving every moment that we are with our children (a common and less-than-helpful piece of advice for parents), but as focusing only on what you are doing. If you are walking, you focus on putting one foot in front of the other. If you are washing the dishes, you focus on wiping the dish, running it under water, and setting it in the dish drainer – NOT using the time to mediate a quarrel between your children, update your facebook status, or practice the brilliant comment you are going to make at your book group that night. In a world that gives you a gold star for the more you multi-task, I literally couldn’t envision what it would look like to be mindful the way he described.  As a mother, my job is to anticipate needs before they become a problem that derails the entire family. What would it mean to be present in every moment, at the exclusion of looking out for the next temper tantrum, of trying to steal every extra moment available for fitting in “just one more” task?

I’ve since tried to make a committment to spending one day a week practicing this “mindful” practice, and I can now see why it’s so hard for all of us: it’s completely antithetical to modern living. Some might say that makes it irrelevent for our lives today, some might say that is precisely the reason to do it. What I can say is that, every so often, I succeed in being absolutely present, of simply walking when I’m walking, of bathing my children when I’m bathing my children. And every so often, for that brief moment, I feel a moment of peace.

In unraveling the threads of a story that we find painful in our history, many of the threads lead back to a single question: What am I afraid this means about me? What value do I assign to this event? What’s the story I tell myself about what happened or why it happened?  In our childbirth classes, this is a major part of preparing for childbirth: What are the events that might come up in birth that I would find traumatizing?  For example, some women make it known that they fear a Ceserean birth and would be traumatized by it, while other women hope to arrange a Ceserean birth and are afraid of it not being available. What is the difference between these women? What is the story that each carries with her about what a Ceserean birth means about her as a mother, and as a woman? This question is as applicable in birth as it is in anything painful in a woman’s life: What am I afraid it means about me that he left me? What am I afraid it means about me that I was ridiculed or ignored?

Buddhist philosophy believes that most suffering in the world comes from the difference between what we expect and what actually happens.  This can be helpful for us as women as we stare our suffering in the face: How are my thoughts and expectations about this making me suffer more, and keeping me suffering?

But there was more. An astonishing amount of ideas, resources and advice came from the discussion that was more than just superficial pats on the back. The entire group left feeling armed with some new approaches to use when they’re about to lose it. Some of the favorites were:

• Determine what your triggers are.  Are there certain situations that inevitably leave you feeling out of control?  Diaper changes have always been my favorite place to lose it: the combination of squirmy child and the promise of smearing poop everywhere has usually been just too much for me. Some of the mothers talked about how knowing this ahead of time can help you plan for it: make sure you approach this time with your other needs met, and a plan for how to try to keep calm. Approaching a diaper change while I’m hungry and have to go to the bathroom is a recipe for disaster for me, for example.
• Check in with yourself. Really. This can sound like mumbo jumbo until you realize how rare it is for a mother to pause in the day and ask herself “What am I needing right now?” Our children are great at getting their needs met, they make sure that we hear them. Pausing to check in with yourself is like parenting a child that you know never lets you know when they are hungry or sick. Treat yourself with the same love and care you would a child who isn’t the “squeaky wheel”.
• Make a plan to get your needs met now. One of the attendees gave the brilliant advice that, once you’ve checked in with yourself and acknowledge your needs, make an immediate plan for getting that need met. If you notice that you’re hungry, make a plan for how you are going to get something to eat within a few minutes. If you’re tired, get a nap if you can, or make a plan to go to bed early that night. Patience and serenity can grow enormously if you know that your needs have been acknowledged and are going to get taken care of as soon as it’s possible. Martyrdom that stretches out forever into the future makes for dangerous parenting.

Pause for a second and ask yourself: How connected do you feel with others? Not just “informed” of what score on Angry Birds your friends have, or what news articles they’ve been reading lately, but….connected. With a meaningful relationship. Enriched by knowing each other.
Going deeper into this puzzling experience of being human.

To borrow a metaphor from Matthew Fox (the priest, not the actor), we can gather meaning and relationship from many shallow wells, or from a few very deep wells. But in the age of having 400+ “Friends”, and keeping in touch with pithy status updates instead of deep conversation, we may find that we have a LOT of shallow wells instead of a few than can give us any deeper meaning.

In October, Mothering Ourselves will introduce a monthly group for women called “Inner Sanctum”. The group will explore a new topic in spirit, meaning and community each month, and give us at least one place for creating a deeper well. Topics such as: Getting to know your critic; Walking the path of being a warrior, healer, visionary and teacher; and many  others.

More details will follow on our website and blog. We hope to see you there.

After I’d had this realization, I couldn’t stop thinking about what that meant for my life: for my body, for my relationships, for my spirit. To be feeling frantic ALL THE TIME. The biologist in me was even more disturbed: It felt like a flight-or-flight response, as if I were in danger of being eaten by a predator. An adrenaline rush. As someone who had studied Biology, I know that adrenaline is suppose to bring a creative resolution to the danger, a burst of energy to get you out. In the words of Mary Elaine Kiener, stress is supposed to follow an “Uh OH!” with an “Ahhhhh……”. Instead, I felt as if my life were a string of increasingly loud “Uh OH!”s.

And what were these “predators” that had me in a perpetual tizzy?  Making breakfast quickly before the children got cranky from hunger. Cleaning up breakfast dishes quickly so we could go outside before they started beating each other. Getting 2 children dressed, shoed, and buckled in quickly to make a doctor’s appointment (running back into the house 3 times after I forgot: snacks, then water, then my car keys.). My heart is constantly racing.

Am I unusually uptight?  Perhaps, but judging by our common everyday conversations – “We’ve just been so busy.”   “It’s only 9 am and I feel like I need a nap.” – it seems like I’m not alone in feeling like the adrenaline rush is normal. Status quo.

Of all the women I know, only two stand out in my mind as women who don’t seem to be constantly in a tizzy. I’ve asked each of them: How do you do it? What’s the secret to seeing the details of life as details, instead of as a tiger that’s about to devour you?  Each of them said the same thing, in different words: You have to figure out how to get your needs met before you can take care of anyone else.  The adrenaline rush comes from running on fumes instead of from a full cup.

One of these mothers gets a massage every 2 weeks.  The other says she’s very good at letting the dishes pile up while she makes herself a cup of tea. Think about what taking care of yourself  would require you to say no to, what you tell yourself you can’t say no to.  Are you willing to have a messier house?  Are you willing to get help with childcare while you take care of your needs?

Think about what it means for you physically and spiritually to go through life as if you are chased by a predator every minute you are awake. Does it make sense that this is destructive to your mind, your adrenal system, your soul? What does it do to your relationships that you are constantly frazzled and depleted?

In October, Mothering Ourselves will launch two new Mothers Self-Renewal workshops, one in Lansing and the other in Grand Rapids. This yearlong workshop focuses exclusively on learning how to take care of yourself, learning how to get your needs met in the midst of the chaos of raising children. You’ll travel with other mothers on a journey towards renewing yourself, and get their support, encouragement and great ideas (like letting the dishes pile up while you have a cup of tea.).  Join us.

To learn more about Mary Lawton’s offerings, visit

Celebrate Birthing, where she has a new YouTube video

and

Positive Perspectives

Tell her that  Mothering Ourselves sent ‘cha!