Buddha Speaks to Bad Mom [yoga-inspired musings]

December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

My answer: YOGA!

In fact, I just went to yoga with my son for the first time this morning! He's been watching me stretch at home and mimicking me, so I thought it was time. I found this wonderful studio near my house called Karma Yoga, and so we went.

At the end of my class, I heard Titus (in the other room) say "I'm hungry!" I suddenly felt anxious, tightly drawn, like I should hurry up and get out of my dead-corpse pose and back to the real "business" of my day.

But because I'd had such a good teacher, who'd helped me relax so fully, I was in a patient place. I could have reactions but also observe them, and I realized that my reaction was strangely based in some sense that Titus was making an accusation. "Why haven't you fed me?! Why didn't you bring me a snack?" i.e., Why are you a bad mommy. I laughed outloud, shirking my misreading of what was just his honest expression of a feeling. I realized i was projecting my own fears that I might mess things up, not provide for him adequately, etc.

How beautiful that he has a working body with which to FEEL hunger! How beautiful that i have every ability to meet his needs! I felt such relaxation, such joy, and I was able to see him more clearly for what he is: a willful but sweet little boy who isn't afraid to express himself.

Laying there on my mat, I thought of my mother. i remembered how I usually spend this moment blaming her for my fear of criticism, thinking of how critical she was. Instead of having that feeling, though, I had compassion for her. I thought about why she might've been so critical. If I could so massively misread my son, what was she hearing instead of hearing me?

How often do we only hear others through our own projected fears? What a wonderful thing to see through the veil sometime!

As we stood in the vestibule, putting our shoes back on, Titus asked me, "Who's that?" pointing at a statue of Buddha. The statue had a water effect, and a little light burbling in the center of a water effect, at Buddha's heart. I said, without thinking, "that's Jesus's friend, Buddha, like in the song, 'Oh Jesus, I love you, and I love Buddha, too.'" You see, my son has been attending a Christian daycare, and as a wayward agnostic who laughs along when the more diligent atheists mention the "flying spaghetti monster," I have my concerns about his learning concepts I cannot agree with: only one path to God, only one face of God, judgement of others. The song "Oh, Jesus I love you, and I love Buddha, too" is such a beautiful expression of faith. Because it honors all paths, I've been drawn to it and sing it with Titus often, even though I supposedly lack this thing called faith. Why then, do I talk freely about "walking my path"? Isn't that a matter of faith?

Reflecting on the lyics of that song, there in karma yoga's vestibule, the veil lifted further. More projection was revealed. My fears for my son have nothing to do with genuine concern for his well-being. I don't need to fear for him in this way. My fears have more to do with my own past experience in churches that talked about hellfire and brimstone as often as the compassion and glory of letting go, letting God. The churches, and some of the believers I encountered in my own childhood, had hate for (fear of) difference, and used religion as a way to wield power through judgement (fear of loss of control, rooted in the economic legacy of my family and region).

It became clearer to me than ever that Jesus has nothing to do with THOSE projected fears, either! Jesus and Buddha really ARE friends! They both can serve as signposts on all of our ways. The song doesn't say, "BUT I love Buddha, too." That fact seems so much more significant to me now than it had before. Choosing to say "and," instead of "but" shows that there's no judgement there, no argument against Christianity. Just an addition. The possibility of connection, not contradiction.

My southern Baptist mother's dying wish had been that I be saved. She had the preacher actually do an "altar call" at her funeral, which is quite unusual. I don't know what "saved" is if not the attempt to see through the veil, this embracing of others for what they really are and loving them, loving ourselves.

Funny thing, veils, when one is lifted, others may also lift. I realized over the period of the next few moments that this was all my southern Baptist mother ever wanted for me: this sense of joyful letting go, this release. I'll never know how often, if ever, she got it, but at least now I know what she was reaching for. During the last few years of her life, her faith deepened, she became calmer, less critical. I have a new respect for her journey, and less concern for the specific name she used for the signposts along her way.

I feel that I carry her with me as I walk, as I run, as I work and play. I like to envision her in Jesus's arms, quite literally now, without "enlightened" agnostic irony. I am grateful for her bringing me here, into this numinous world, this realm where my mind and body cup my spirit, like that little burbling light at the heart of the Buddha statue. And now, when I sing that song with Titus, I can mean the first few words, not just appreciate his intelligent vocabulary. I want to tell my mother, wherever she is, that I have indeed been saved, by ecstatically dancing, by meditating, by always trying to lift the veils.

Last thought on the matter: on the radio later this same day, I heard a Christian Republican senator from South Carolina being interviewed on NPR. He is outgoing, of course, due to all this Tea Party crap, due to his more nuanced understanding and gentle sophistication. I heard the compassion and wisdom in the man's voice. He has always been out of step with his fellow Republicans on the climate change issue. He said that his God told him to be a steward of the Earth, and that he thought we ought to do so. He compared God's people to children. Every time they learn something new, we cheer for them. Their first steps, sentences, etc. He thinks God feels this way about us, happy for our growth, wanting us to use our tools and minds to peek into the divinity of creation. He wouldn't have given us science if he didn't want us to use it, he said.

Another way we try to lift the veil, to see through our own ignorance. Just like religion, science can be misused. But why focus on the misuses? Let's play the believing game and see where we can all go, together, walking our path, holding each other up as we go. I've got you if you've got me.

Oh Jesus, I love You

And I love Buddha too
Ramakrishna, Guru Dev
Tao Te Ching and Mohammed

Why do some people say
That there is just one way
To love You, God, and come to You?
We are all a part of You

You are un-nameable
You are unknowable
All we have is metaphor
That's what time and space are for

Is the universe Your thought?
You are and You are not
You are many, You are one
Ever ending, just begun

Alright, alright, alright
I love You and Buddha too