I recently had the privilege of reviewing an academic paper. The main premise was that the healthy authentic self is an ethical self. I won’t repeat the whole argument here, but one sideline discussion was the idea that “decluttering” (physical and mental) is a core mechanism for revealing truth… as evidenced by many modalities – voluntary simplicity, meditation, renunciation.
There was a nice irony as I workshopped a paper on this particular topic, and (of course) starting thinking….. why I am I doing this for someone else?….. I could be writing my *own* academic papers! And proceeded to waste a lot of time researching post graduate programmes… being concurrently aware that I almost certainly *can’t* squeeze this commitment into family life. My time may come. It’s just not now.
It made me think about renunciation.
I was incredibly fortunate, that early in my mothering journey I came across the wisdom of “mothering as surrender”. And this has sustained me through labor pains, years of breastfeeding and comforting children through the night, years of choosing not to go out at night… or even during the day, in order to “be there”. The shock of my love for them revealed my parenting truth. My needs were secondary to their needs.
The other part of surrender is relinquishing external measures of success. No more job title, no more company car, no more letters after your name, no more “achievements”. (I think this is why I bloom like a flower when anyone says my kids are lovely/well behaved/cute….. whatever….. even though I know it is ephemeral and chances are in the next moment they will be feral monsters and I am also, apparantly, responsible for that too.)
All of this I have done willingly, and I have gained more that I could ever have imagined. Really, exactly as the reading of any scriptures would suggest. But. But. Sometimes I flail like a fish on the end of a hook. I am not enlightened yet.
I want to bow down before the many amazing mothers that I know. Especially some of the single mothers, who have given up far more than I have – putting up with stigma, living on pensions, doing it alone, with not even a partner to witness and appreciate their struggles.
A recently reported case in the family court. Mr & Mrs Rose lived in Sydney with their daughter. Mr Rose found well paid employment in a distant mining town and they relocated. Within 12 months their marriage broke down and Mrs Rose wanted to return to Sydney with their daughter. Mr Rose applied to the family court to prevent this. During the trial:
Judge to Mrs Rose: “If I order that you can’t take your daughter to Sydney with you, will you stay in this town?”
Mrs Rose: (baffled by this odd rhetorical question) “Of course”
Judge to Mr Rose: “If I order that Mrs Rose can take her daughter to Sydney – will you go to Sydney to be close to your daughter?”
Mr Rose: “No”
The judge ordered that the mother couldn’t relocate with her daughter and she now lives in the caravan park with her daughter - all she can afford – waiting for the appeal.
Pause now for a PRIMAL ROAR OF ANGER as we witness yet again how patriarchy takes the precious jewel of motherlove and strings it up to suit itself. This woman is prepared to sacrifice almost everything to be with her daughter. She’s surprised by the very question. (And apologies to the many men I know who would scorn this man’s idea of being a father.)
So…… renunciation. Buddha did it. Jesus did it. Parents do it. I am hardly doing it at all, and yet the rewards are boundless.
