Me meditate?
It’s OK if meditation looks different when you become a mom
Before I had kids, when I was a young working professional in New York, I used to tell an overworked colleague with three children that she needed to carve out time on a daily basis to meditate. How annoying was I? On a scale of one to ten, I would say 11. She simply said: “My shower is my meditation. It’s the only place where I can’t hear the kids.” She never expressed irritation at me though I’m sure she rolled her eyes when I walked off in my perfectly polished Ferragamos and my carefully pressed Zara pencil skirt, an outfit you would never catch me in today (thanks remote working!) Not only are my corporate clothes stuffed into the depths of my closet, but— after two pregnancies—my feet are like ten times the size they once were (though I’m not letting go of those Italian shoes). Yet what I have discovered with only two children is that, unless I wake up super early, there simply isn’t time to meditate in the traditional way and I’m annoyed at the childless version of myself for even suggesting so.
Of course, everyone has different circumstances, and the above statement is debatable. If you live with a nanny or au pair or have family or a helpful tribe nearby or kids that like sleeping, it makes it easier to get down and dirty with meditation. This is not my situation out here in the sticks. But even when I do have a babysitter, I’m so intent on getting though my to-do list of things I can only really do when I’m child-free that the last thing I prioritize is sitting on my meditation cushion (which in the last two years has only been used by my children as a step stool to get into my jewelry box and other off-limits places). Also, if I sit down and try to meditate, I will promptly fall asleep (and maybe fall over). I don’t know if that’s just an older mom thing or if that’s just the stage of life I am in. Yet instead of getting angry or stressed about not being able to engage in traditional sit-your-butt-down and don’t think thoughts meditation, I’ve discovered a new way of getting into that thoughtless flow: playing the piano.
Let me start by saying I am no Mozart, but I did grow up playing the piano and last year, we inherited the very piano I grew up playing when my mom realized she didn’t have a need for a grand piano anymore. So, I raised my hand and after obscene moving costs, voila, my oldest is now taking piano lessons. What I didn’t expect, is that I gravitate towards the piano every day, sometimes more than two or three times a day, for 10- or 20-minute increments. I have to time it carefully otherwise the kids will also clamber on the bench and bang the keys, which makes for a less than meditative experience. So, I usually do it when I’ve given them an art project (the more potential for mess, the longer I have; think sand or clay or finger paints) or when they’re doing an obstacle course with their Dad or when they’re lazily listening to various Peppa Pig adventures on the Yoto Player on the sofa. Timing is everything.
Other things I consider forms of meditation for me:
o Driving (the roads out here are gorge);
o Gardening (my neighbor says, “there ain’t nothing like getting dirt under your nails to bring you closer to God”);
o Hiking or walking in the woods or mountains;
o Journaling (morning pages!);
o Coloring (my daughter and I spend hours coloring these mandala books)
o Cooking, especially rolling out breads. There is something meditative about the repetition (my friend sent me the world’s easiest paratha recipe, so easy I did it with the kids too).
Your form of meditation could be running or fishing or painting or surfing or swimming or stand-up paddle boarding (been meaning to get into that). Basically, movement is always a good to get into a meditative state of mind, especially for moms who struggle to sit still because we be busy and it’s hard to just stop after so much activity. I guess what I’m saying to any mom out there who may have experienced pangs of guilt for not having what we have come to see as a “meditation practice,” find the kind of meditation that suits you for the stage of life you’re in, and that may look very different from sitting on a cushion with your eyes closed.
Oh, and the showering thing? Love it, yes, but not meditative for me. In fact (rather inconveniently) my most brilliant ideas come to me in the shower, so I keep a notepad nearby…
BTW check out this interview with Natalie Goldberg (Writing Down the Bones) on Zen meditation, her Buddhist awakening and her writing practice.
Also this piece on our human “need for spaciousness” which I wrote for Mindful magazine when my book came out in the US.
Ciao for now,
Natasha