Lessons from the Zen Master: About Ants

Since Ethan's arrival, my formal sitting practice has pretty much evaporated. I didn't have much time to think about this during the initial weeks of looking after him. Life has been a blur; feed - change him - put him to sleep - try and sleep myself - feed him again, and so on, and so on. I automatically switched into mindfulness mode. It's actually quite hard not to be mindful when you have a newborn. They don't just quietly request your attention - they demand it. And just in case I wasn't listening, his cry will hammer home his needs very swiftly!

During the twilight hours, I've been slowly reading 'The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting' by Jon & Myla Kabat-Zinn. I've found this so nourishing during those weary late nights and something I've really taken home is that Ethan is my 'Live-In' Zen Master. And like many Zen masters, his lessons are unorthodox and often present themselves through the most mundane of activities.

My Live-In Zen Master

When I try to do to much (like breastfeed him while I watch TV & surf the internet on my phone) he will chastise me with a fussy cry and bring me to the present moment. Surprised at my own mindlessness, I'm reminded to put down the phone, turn off the TV and sit with the practice of breast-feeding my son. He will study me with his eyes to make sure my attention doesn't wander and I learn to enjoy the precious time between us.

My Zen Master often tests my patience as he poos or pees at unexpected moments, usually on me. As he gazes up at me with an expression of surprise, almost as if waiting to see how I'll react, I'm prompted to take a gentle breath and carefully attend to the task at hand - cleaning up my Zen Master and the change table. And just when it seems that my tank of joyous effort is about to reach rock bottom, my Zen Master will surprise me with an unexpected smile or a goo and spontaneously, I'm recharged. How easy it is to take life for granted when really, it is fleeting, impermanent and changing moment by moment. My son is the living emanation of change and impermanence.

Ethan delights in a conversation with his Stuffed Red Moo Moo.

Which brings us to the Lessons of Ants. As Summer rolls around, so do the ants. These amazing scouragers don't waste a moment. If I dare to leave a glass of water on the coffee table unattended, they instantly invade. At first, I was completely exasperated and couldn't find the compassion. Didn't these ants realise that I had a baby to look after? How would I find the time to merticulously chase these little sentient beings away when Ethan already demanded my attention so heavily and I was so behind on household chores? As always, prevention is the best means to avoid the killing of ants but I was beginning to resent all the sweeping & cleaning of benches & taking out of the bins at night when I was already so tired from a full day of caring for Ethan.

However, the other night Ethan gazed into my eyes and my heart opened with love for him. This was my son. This was my opportunity to pay back whatever karmic debt I owed Ethan and take care of him, as he took care of me in previous lives. Reflecting on other lives suddenly got me thinking - how many of those ants had been 'Ethans' to me in previous lives? In fact, they had probably all been my sons, my daughters, my brothers & sisters & mothers & fathers and so forth... and with that thought, compassion found a means to unlock my weary heart. All beings in the world had once been my sons. It felt far more true & real than the reflection, they'd all been my kind mothers because now that I was a Mother myself, I'm beginning to learn what it takes to wholeheartedly care for others.

So I thought I would share this beautiful lesson that my Live-In Zen Master taught me. No doubt, there will be many more lessons to share with you and while they might not emerge from any formal practice, they are no less sincere and valuable as we all make our way through Samsara.

May you all be happy and well, free of Suffering.

Yours truly,
Demi.