Meditation for Mamas, Part 2

About a year ago, I wrote this post in which I lamented the lack of "alone time" that we mother's face.  I was fearful that the constant stimulation of raising several children was leaving me spiritually illiterate.  I shared this post with a writer friend, and she liked it very much.  She also politely asked, "What's the 'take-away'?  What have you learned?"  This was a good and helpful question.  I thought about it, and I found myself, a year later, writing somewhat effortlessly about what I have learned...

I love my “job,” but it isn’t what I pictured when others used to ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” In fact there isn’t much being involved in mothering.  There is, however, plenty of doing.  I do laundry.  I cook, clean, drive, read stories, herd belligerent little people in the direction of the bathtub, and participate in sticky craft activities that cause me to break out in imaginary hives.  I also listen, dry tears, offer hugs, and clean up bodily fluids.  Mostly all of this is wonderful and satisfying, but at the end of the day I am tired and introspective.  I sometimes wonder where God is in all of this.  I wonder what my purpose is.  I wonder what that fuzzy green stuff growing at the bottom of my daughter's lunch box is.  I get distracted.  What were we talking about?  Oh, yes,  I remember.

Books, yogis, and gurus tell me about finding God through quiet meditation.  I sigh in defeat.  Quiet time for reflection and a calm, meditative mind, one that isn't thinking about someone's lunch box or the cat's incessant meowing, are two things this mama rarely has.  It would seem that motherhood and monastic, desert spirituality are completely incompatible.  Achieving enlightenment or finding God through hours of quiet meditation is not practical for most of us even if it is WJWD.  Is there any hope for us?

Of course there is.  In fact, I have learned that many of the benefits of meditation can be gleaned in the midst of the noisy times. Is there a better time and place to practice “being in the moment” than while immersed in a bubble bath with a giddy toddler?  Is there a better time to practice forgiveness than in the very moment you walk into the kitchen and find that some little, elfin cutie has lovingly drawn hearts and flowers all over the table with permanent magic markers?  Want to deepen your capacity for love?  Try staying up all night caring for a snotty, moaning child, holding a helpless newborn in your arms, or listening to the gut-wrenching sobs of a big kid who's being bullied by the mean girls at school.  Stooping to help a toddler who has gone to pieces over a broken carrot stick might just help you keep your own woes in perspective especially if you join her in deep breaths and affirmative mantras like, "Everything is going to be okay." God does not only appear in the calm, quiet, contemplative moments.  God is there in every moment.

Certainly we mothers (and fathers) must find time to pause and have solitude.  It is essential that we take time to re-charge our batteries and re-connect with our adult selves, but silent prayer and meditation are not the only ways to connect with a higher power.  Sometimes sacred ground is littered with crushed Cheerios, and we can see the face of God in our own children (underneath the chocolate syrup and glitter).  Often the only difference between the sacred and the ordinary is in our perception.  Taking a deep breath and acknowledging that God is there in the ordinary, chaotic, everyday moments has saved my sanity over and over again, which brings me to one of my favorite quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

"Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush aflame with God,  

but only he who sees takes off his shoes; the rest sit round it and pluck blackberries."