Time for My Song

And the lid goes back on the box once more,

As I dress the kids to get them out the door,

I swallow down my dreams and my ideas,

My visions, my passions and even my fears.

Time, time, where is the time?

To claim, to pursue, to hunt down what is mine?

Where is the freedom to sing my own song?

That’s been bubbling inside of me all along.

Waiting, waiting to be sung,

While I cook, and fold, and make cookies,

That’s “fun”?!

These little people need to be fed,

They need to be loved,

And put to bed.

They need to be seen and need to belong,

But in this whole process,

Where is MY song?

I have come to discover,

Our song must be sung,

But that the form it is sung in,

There’s much more than one.

The notes can be woven in the way that we talk,

The tune can be heard in the way that we walk.

And so, it’s damn balance,

As all good things are,

And if we walk on this tightrope,

We’re bound to go far.

And we might first fall one way,

And then to the other,

And sometimes we wonder,

Why do I bother?

We bother because we have a song to be sung,

And the world, it is waiting,

And we’re just the one.

Home Schooling - A Path to Enlightenment?

I have not liked most parts of home schooling.

This is mainly because the whole process has tugged on all of my perfectionistic and people-pleasing neuroses and lay them out for the world (and myself and my kids) to see. This only occurred to me while I was feverishly posting evidence of my grade 1s activity on the school app and then checking constantly as to whether the teacher had “liked” it. Oh my goodness. I am not in grade 1, why do I care what Catherine (teacher) thinks of me? Why do I care what anyone thinks of me?

I have come to believe that the only thing that really matters is what I think of me.

I feel like the last 3 months of my life have required me to dig very deep into my self-care, insight & emotional management tool kits, not to mention my interpersonal tools. It is like I have been on a very long, not-self-imposed Zen retreat. With a slightly irritable and irrational grade 1 Zen master whipping me as I climb a very tall mountain, in the rain, naked. THAT is how hard it has been, so so many opportunities for insight and development and so so many opportunities for crumbling into a puddle of frustrated and angry goop, right here on the kitchen floor. Of course, in reality, most of the time, it was my own dear mind who was the old Zen master. Dammit, those realisations hurt.

Someone asked me the other day “how is home schooling going?” I paused, she jumped in and said, “I am sure there are some lovely bits”. My response was a very definite “no, there have been not been many lovely bits, I have actually dreaded most mornings at 9am when we are supposed to start ‘school’. I have had to constantly check myself as to whether I am going too hard or too soft, I have had to constantly remember what really matters at the end of all this (mental health and connection!)  and I am currently measuring the success of my days in terms of whether I killed or divorced anyone”. She was silent (and perhaps a little shocked) and she finally said, “oh well, at least you’re honest”. I could tell she was a little disappointed that I wasn’t more up-beat about the whole thing, I mean, I am a psychologist and meditation teacher after all – aren’t I supposed to be positive? Or at least have my shit together?

I have spent a great portion of my life not being honest about my feelings and, pretending to have my shit together. As women, and especially as mothers, society demands us to be smiling and grateful and to just get on with it. Of course, I am grateful, my life is awesome but, that does not diminish my pain and discomfort. In fact, I have now come to believe that pain and discomfort is necessary for us to truly grow into who we are supposed to be. And that all of this avoiding of pain and discomfort does us as a massive disservice. We then pass down this way of seeing and being to our kids, which, in turn does them a massive disservice. We gotta teach ourselves (and our kids) how to ride the pain and discomfort that comes with being a fully functioning human, not how to hide it and especially not how to fix it.

 I think this starts when we are little girls, when we are taught to be nice and quiet and pretty and well-behaved. We swallow down our feelings (unless of course they are the “positive” ones like happiness and joy) and eventually, they lodge themselves in our bodies. The mind/body connection is alive and well here, I can assure you. Our anger or fear or shame sits in our gut, churning, churning, churning – largely unacknowledged or unexpressed. Angry women are dismissed as aggressive or neurotic, or lesbian (as if that were an insult).

If we do somehow manage to keep a lid on it, sometimes these emotions seep out, trickling and whirling as insecurities or irritability or unexplainable tears. We wonder why rates of burn-out, anxiety, depression and autoimmune disease are higher in women!

As my sister in law pointed out to me the other day, women are the biggest losers in this global pandemic. Women make up most of the part time or less-skilled workforce and they are largely the ones who have lost their jobs due to the economic crunch we all find ourselves in. They are also largely the ones who have been tasked with homeschooling the kids, putting their careers on hold, once again (and having the Zen-retreat-like experience described above). Please be assured this is not having a go at men. Men are bloody awesome, it is not their fault that we all live in a largely patriarchal society set up by and for men. However, is sure as hell is their responsibility to be aware of what is happening here and, to step in to support and work with the women in their lives, at home and at work.

And so, this is why I am so passionate about running my #mindfulwoman meditation classes every week via zoom. It is an opportunity for women to come together to support and grow and rediscover their awesomeness.  The awesomeness that may have been stifled by society and/or the way they were raised (no fault passing or blame here – just an acknowledgement of reality). No competing, no pretending, no fake smiling or “I’m fine – how are you?”. Just us. As we are. Passionate. Smart. Funny. Whole. Human.

And so, home-schooling ends for some of us next week. However, I know that life will continue to throw me many more opportunities for development and growth. That is what life does. Life wants us to grow into who we are supposed to be, not what we have been told we should be. One thing I am not supposed to be for sure, is a primary school teacher, especially not to my own kids.

Thanks for the memories home schooling, smell ya later!

Love without Strings

MINDFULNESS AS A POSSIBLE ROUTE TO UNCOMPLICATED LOVE

My relationship with my late mum was indeed complicated – as mother-daughter relationships often can be.

I always knew she loved me, however, at times, that love seemed to be coupled with a heavy dose of expectation. It felt as though I was expected to be perfect and when I was perfect (which I tried so desperately to be all my life), I was loved more.

Our relationship was one of push and pull. Of advance and retreat. It seemed to be pregnant with competition, it may sound Freudian, but I could honestly feel it. 

My dear mum had her own barrel of crap to deal with, I am not sure she had room on her plate (or in her heart) to deal with any of mine. It would be much easier for her if I were perfect; a nice girl, smart, kind, pretty – all the things nice girls are supposed to be. So, I learnt at a very young age to keep my troubles to myself, to keep my confusions, my traumas, my pain to myself. I worked through it, as best I could with poetry and with friendships, and later in life with approval-seeking and perfectionistic behaviour.

As mum became more and more unwell, she was confined to bed in her dying days. My brother, Dad and I nursed her at home – that is what she wanted, she didn’t want to die in a cold hospital bed. She wanted to die at home, with dignity, in the embrace of the man she loved so deeply.

Those final days together; as I made tea for the guests coming to say their last good-byes, as I put flowers in vases and coordinated the palliative care nurse visits, were some of my most cherished times I had with her. I guess, as we both knew time was scarce, we let our egos melt away and we allowed ourselves to just be together, in pure love. The familiar competition between us evaporated, the expectations ceased to swirl around me and, possibly for the first time – we just were, together. Two women, two mothers, loving each other, completely without strings.

 One morning, after listening to some recorded meditations, she looked up at me and said “I get it, I understand what you have been trying to teach me all these years, I have been nuts all my life and now its too late”. At that point we lovingly embraced each other, knowing it was too late to turn back but also knowing that she had glimpsed the possibility of how life could have been. That experience was one of the most profound and heartbreaking in my life and from it I learnt a lot.

As parents, I wonder whether we need to work on our own barrel of crap in order for us to be available to love our children in a free and open way. It is indeed very hard to see the beauty of the little being standing before us if we are looking through a lens of self-loathing or hatred or regret or fear.

My dear mum couldn’t love me freely, just as I was, as she couldn’t love herself, just as she was. Her body was ravaged by 40 years of ill-health, her dreams slashed because she was a woman growing up in an era where women were not encouraged to do much other than iron and cook and she carried many unresolved family traumas in the very cells of her miraculous body. She was angry with the way her life had turned out, those molecules of anger flooded her body and her heart and she simply slipped into survival mode. None of this was her fault, she did not know she had a choice – until it was too late and the cancer won.

This is the gift of mindfulness, it can give us a choice. It can help us to fall awake and see what is actually happening, rather than being trapped by the stories or opinions or beliefs we may have inherited or simply picked up along the way.

 So, for me now the question isn’t “how can I fix my children” the question is “how can I love and accept myself enough so that I can see the magic of the child before me?”. This question is not always easy to answer as we are so very habituated at getting in our own way and having our natural ability of clear seeing attention hijacked by our stories, but I think it is one that is worth asking over and over again.

Mindfully Mum

FINDING CLARITY, CALM AND CONNECTION WITHIN THE CHAOS OF MOTHERHOOD

Originally posted 2016

Becoming a mother was one of the most exciting and challenging roles I had ever accepted.
The job ad read a little something like this:

“Are you in your 30s, in a serious relationship, already have a dog and looking for the next step?
Join our growing organization and find your real purpose!

We are seeking capable, intelligent and loving women to join our flourishing group. You will have some prior experience with children and relatively strong pelvic floor muscles.

You will be rewarded with long, warm snuggles, unconditional love and affection and a sweet smelling sleepy baby. You will enjoy shopping for cute baby clothes, knowing smiles from strangers and compliments on the cuteness of your offspring.

You will experience satisfaction from your new role and will feel fulfilled and challenged. Working hours are flexible and uniform typically consists of yoga pants and baggy t-shirts.

Apply at applications@mummeup.com.au”

And for some women, the reality of the role may, in fact be very close to the job ad. For me, they were quite different…… Yes, there were (and still are) occasional long snuggles and some shopping for cute baby clothes and there are absolutely elements of satisfaction and intense meaning that this role has brought to my life. However, the flexible working hours did not turn out to be quite as flexible as originally promised and my manager (the child, not the husband) seemed to be very unpredictable, totally incapable of taking accountability for his actions and very unsure of what he really wants! Not to mention the tears (from everyone) and the feelings of loss of identity, loneliness and life focus. Questions like “who am I now that I am a mother?” “when will I ever have time for myself?” “How does she manage to do it all and I can barely manage a shower?” and “Am I doing this right?” made regular appearances in the chatter of my mind. Thank goodness I discovered mindfulness, just in time. Just as I was becoming completely disengaged and a little resentful, mindfulness reached out and tickled my curiosity. It may have just saved me from losing all of my marbles…

MIndfulness - The definition

The formal definition of mindfulness is “Moment to moment, non-judgmental awareness” (Jon Kabat-Zinn) but I quite like to think of it as “being open and curious to what is actually happening, rather than what we think is happening”. As mothers we tend to spend a lot of time thinking about what is happening, rather than taking part in what is happening. It is this constant chatter of our very busy minds that can get us into trouble and distract us from engaging wholly in our own lives.

Mindfulness is a skill that can be learnt by anyone. It is nurtured simply by paying attention with an open and accepting approach. It involves removing our judgment (black and white thinking – good mum/bad mum etc) and applying the compassion and acceptance we may typically reserve for other, to ourselves. Sounds simple hey? And it is but simple doesn’t mean easy.

Nurturing this skill takes practice and commitment as we are literally rewiring our brain. We are gaining insight into our thought patterns and habits and deciding whether they are useful for us now in our current lives and in our current roles. Through this process we introduce the element of CHOICE to our experience and bring a greater degree of clarity, calm and connection into our existence.

Our mindfulness skills can be developed through formal practices such as meditation, yoga or relaxation exercises or informal practices such as simply paying attention to what we are doing. We can fold laundry mindfully, we can brush our teeth mindfully, we can listen and engage with our kids mindfully, we can even wipe their little butts with awareness! Research tells us “a wandering mind is an unhappy mind” so our task is to reign in this wandering animal and use it for good rather than allowing it to use us for evil (such as freaking out because the nappy is not on perfectly straight!).

So how does performance in the motherhood role look when we approach it with a greater degree of mindfulness? By simply bringing awareness to both our internal (thoughts and feelings) and external (behaviors) experiences, we can examine them with more clarity and make the executive decision as to whether they are contributing positively to our existence. Are they enhancing our relationships or slowly destroying them? Are they boosting our self-esteem or stripping them? And ultimately, are they contributing to our happiness?

Tips for finding more clarity, calm and connection

1 The “Now What?” Meditation Inspired by Denise Roy (Momfulness)

You know those times you are trying to get your kid in the car, running late for a meeting and still trying to eat your toast and your kid decides he would prefer to sit in the front seat rather than his seat in the back? It is during these times that this practice is particularly useful. All it takes is three mindful breaths.

1. First Breath – connect with your internal strength and ground yourself (stop the crazy spinning thoughts!)
2. Second Breath – tune into your kid – what is going on for them? Are they tired, hungry, not wanting to go to school today?
3. Third Breath – Ask yourself – now what? How do I need to be in this moment? What is going to help me here?

2 R . A . I . N

This is a handy practice to use when you feel like you have lost many of your marbles and would quite like to gain a little more clarity and perspective in a situation you are finding stressful. It is a four-step approach and uses the acronym R.A.I.N:

R – Recognize your experience (“ah…I am feeling anxious”) Where am I feeling it in my body? how do I know I am anxious?
A – Allow it to be (“hello anxiety my old friend”) Can you breathe into it and allow more space for it to be there? can you let go of any belief that this feeling is bad or wrong?
I – Investigate the possible learnings (“what are you telling me anxiety?”). This stage is REALLY important, it may be here you gather more information about your values or even your own personal childhood traumas that have triggered you. This is not just a “head thing”, we are not just thinking about it, we need to tune into our body here. This takes practice and meditation is a great place to do that.
N – Non-attachment and Nurture (“I know I am feeling anxious but it is just a feeling and it does not need to overwhelm me as I know it will pass”) and then we show ourselves some loving attention: “I know this is hard darling, I know you are trying your best”, this can be facilitated by stopping, breathing deeply (especially elongating the exhalation) and putting our hand firmly but softly on our heart area (giving ourselves and our body a little loving snuggle).

Hopefully these tips will bring more clarity, calm and connection to your role as a mum. It is a wonderful job and we are incredibly lucky and blessed to have been successful in our application and as long as we don’t let our minds (and all of the expectations, worries and irrational beliefs) run the show – I believe we can continue to find meaning, satisfaction and fulfillment, even in the sleep deprived chaos of it all!