Loving one's child unconditionally is easy. Looking past the frustration, tears and tantrums so that one responds in a mindful manner is not that easy. Especially when the one with the frustration, tears and tantrums is me. This has been a dreadful year in many ways. After almost 10 years cancer free, as i stood on the precipice of this historical 10 year mark, my body failed me and i was once again up arms in a monumental battle against it.
Mummy had a big ouchie!
Yet, these past few weeks, between the tears and the tantrums, there have been moments of silent reverie. Times when thoughts have bubbled to the surface begging me to look at my ouchie from different perspectives.
Have i perhaps been unduly harsh with my body by accusing it of failing me again. Have i been too rash by running in Mel Gibson style, face painted blue, brandishing my tomahawk, yelling at the top of my voice, "You may take my life but you will never take my Freedom!"
It is after all MY body. It belongs to me. Just as the saying goes, "we become what we think", could it be that my body was merely following my own self generated albeit unconscious 'body thoughts"? I cannot believe that i would willingly bring this disease upon myself.
When i reflect back on my life these past 10 years, they have been wonderfully happy. During these past 10 years i have learnt about the value of life, and the reason i breathe was born - who can complain of a life where that happens right?
Could it be, that this blemish so marred my take on my beautiful life that i was prepared to shatter myself so i could wage war on myself? I've been told that i am part warrior part princess. I'm part warrior (let's face it, i've always been feisty!) but not part princess. Ever since the birth of Shabd, I've been part Warrior and part Mummy.
I know this because it is a nurturing voice that says to me, "It's okay. You've fought a good battle. It's time to lay down your arms. It's time to be still and listen to your body for it is not your enemy, it is of you and that is holy." Thus it comes to be that with silent tears i pray for an ouchie kiss. The type of ouchie kiss that Shabd demands every time he's hurt.
Shabd: "Mummy! Ouchie!"
Mummy: "Ag shame man! Sorry baby. Where did you get hurt?"
Shabd: "On toes...Kiss."
Being a mother has taught me to be kind, tolerant and forgiving to myself. Had i not been a mother, i would still be fighting and would perhaps have never realised that i needed to be kind and forgiving to myself.
When those little arms reach up to me and wrap themselves tightly around my neck, there are no judgements made, this is pure unconditional love. And when we nestle nose-to-nose, breathing in each others scent, savouring these precious quiet moments together, i wish the world would stop spinning and this memory would stay forever etched in my mind, as fresh as this very moment.
Practising being in the now is easy when Shabd is the teacher. All it takes is your complete and utter surrender to him! Once you've done that, he reminds you that elephants and sprinkler systems are equally fascinating and exciting, both to be greeted with a happy shout and a little jig.
That every bite of your ice-cream should be taken in careful concentration, savouring the taste explosion and sensations that accompany the cold ice-cream.
He is totally and utterly in the now, discovering and savouring and valuing each life experience, devoid of criticism, cynicism and judgements. He is a child.
I cannot imagine Shabd waging war against his body and neither would i ever encourage him to do so.
Sometimes, it takes a child's unconditional love and deliberate mindfulness to set us free. Most times, if we are still long enough, the child becomes the Master.
