A Hard Day
Another day is over and I sink into the living room sofa. Darkness has already blanketed the trees in the yard, but can't hide the warmth and humidity left in the air by the hot Israeli summer day.
"I'm close to collapsing" is the thought that comes to me. And then others like "I don't have the strength for this!" "How much can I take?"
With glazed eyes I notice the living room floor. Thousands of toys are scattered in a colorful mix that is visually confusing and makes me nauseous.
Suddenly it hits me: I'm a mother of a two small children that constantly compete for my attention, and my attempt to be there for both of them is taking away all sense of control over my life.
Help!
My desire to attend to their wants and needs, to their triumphs and fears is challenged by my angry inner self screaming, "Help! I don't recognize who I have become…When will I have time for myself?" Not even time to eat, sleep or work, but time just to be! And in order to find balance and space in the chaos that is there in the living room of my mind.
Then I think I would have more patience and empathy with the children, more sensitivity to their fears, their boundary checking and even the jealousy that can exist between siblings.
From One Child To Two
Before I had two children I had just one… When I had just one child I would dedicate quality time to be with him on the rug. Even while doing the household chores I could easily stay focused on him, noticing the moment he changed mood.
Now that I have two, I have lost some of the one on one intimacy that I had, and we have moved on to a joint dynamic that leaves me divided between the two of them.
And with my partner there is a significant change. Instead of a family dinner with everybody around the table, often there is an absent parent trying to transform baby tears into sweet, deep sleep. Me and my partner spend most of our time together tending to the children, and saying things like "Bring me a diaper from the closet," "Oh Honey, can you please help me look for the pacifier?"
Difficult Changes
Before my life as I knew it was swept away, I used to practice spirituality, like going to self-awareness workshops.
I sought the path to happiness in my life, with my body, mind and spirit as my focus. Now it feels like I no longer have time to observe the details of who I am.
Now there is so little time for self reflection, and I have less energy to initiate activities and make plans. But then activities create themselves every minute anew, and sometimes right into the middle of the night there is no shortage of action.
(Actually, truth be told, any deviation from the regular schedule has the power to throw me completely off track, and then who knows if I'll find my way again?)
My sacred mediation time has been canceled. And, instead of practicing yoga, I convince myself that my exercise can be the challenge of carrying my child from the slide to the ladder thirty times.
Instead of conscious breathing, I blow on the kids' food to cool it off. Relaxation occurs the moment my body gets permission to dive onto the mattress, and finishes before it reaches it.
After waking up for the fifteenth time in the same night I lie in bed, not sleeping but not really awake (a state aspired to in every spiritual practice), and my ability to get up for the twentieth time in the same night and still love unconditionally, and be filled with empathy for another being that asks me to give up my intense need to let my eyes stay shut for another moment, challenges my capacity to give and brings me to the edge of endurance.
Enlightenment
Though I mourn the loss of time to do my spiritual practice like yoga and meditation, I realize that my practice has simply changed and that being a mother is being spiritual.
For instance, being a mother you learn to listen whilst doing many other things at the same time like packing a school bag, making sandwiches for lunch, goading your child to put on his socks.
Also these days I have a deep and abundant well of creativity and a new found talent to make the children laugh by telling stories that include situations and characters from everyday life, but in a reverse order or an absurd roll-play (the kindergarten teacher transformed into a baby, the supermarket cashier became the doctor, or the dog was carried in the stroller instead of the child).
And most of all, I am learning to let go. Where once I had many expectations and needed life to go according to plan, now I am aware of the great truth that I don't control time, moods, or the potential for plans to change. Instead, I am observant to the moment - the here and now, and more flexible to the needs of others.
Feelings have become my main concern and listening to my intuition, like when to have rules and when to drop them in order to give the children a childhood worth remembering.
In my own youth, I always needed to rebel against authority, and now I am the authority, and as the authority I am cautious not to react to every push and shove, but to accept all the many aspects of my children, and to know that they are pure untainted beings showing me what is natural.
The spirituality I practice as a mother is real life hands-on natural stuff. The children are my ‘workshop' and they are the divine inspiration that gives my role as mother meaning.
Tomorrow who knows perhaps my sweet child will run to me from the kindergarten gate with open arms and a melting smile, singing "My dearest mother, mother dear, a little song for you because I love you so…" and I will be filled with gratitude to the universe, to the creator of all there is, because I am blessed to feel the light of pure, innocent love.