Introduction Right Mindfulness is like a mother. When her child is sweet, she loves him, and when her child is crying, she still loves him. Everything that takes place in our body and our mind needs to be looked after equally. We don't fight. We say hello to our feeling so we can get to know each other better. Then, the next time that feeling arises, we will be able to greet it even more calmly. --Thich Nhat Hanh This book addresses the fundamental struggle of parenting: loving someone and being powerless to keep them from pain. The ancient Buddhist practice of equanimity, which I call loving and allowing, can give us a way to come home to our ability to love without losing ourselves in suffering. Allowing is not being permissive or passive, nor is it resisting or denying. It is understanding the whole of my experience with a heart wide enough to hold the suffering of my child, and myself. This balance creates a spaciousness able to include everything on this journey and to embrace feelings of helplessness and fear while being willing to continue trying. My story as a mother is made from my children's experiences. In the words of one of my primary teachers, Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh, we cocreate each other and our relationship. They create me as a mother, and I create them as children. I am not separate from them. When I started writing this book, I asked my daughter for permission to share her story. Much of the time I don't talk about her struggles with depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, and attempt because it creates a mark on the child. Children with depression and self-harm histories are seen as different. They become unreliable and are often watched for any signs of shifting into that gray area of pain. Stigmas surrounding mental health conditions are alive and thriving. In a country where, according to the National Institute of Mental Health, suicide was the second leading cause of death for young people starting at age ten,1 we have a lot to talk about. For me, talking about the adversities of having a child with mental health challenges and the path to find balance is an effort to start the healing. This healing includes parents who feel responsible and blamed for their child's mental health or invisible disabilities, from ADHD or autism through depression and all the way to promiscuity or a compromised immune system. In all moments of caring, there is a need for parents to stay balanced in the midst of struggle, heartbreak, and pain. I've experienced implied judgment and censure around my child's behavior, which adds to my burden of care and distances me from necessary support when I am feeling scared and alone. Parents need a safe place to talk about the many emotions that parenting a child in distress can bring up. It is acceptable to speak about fear, love, and helplessness, but dangerous to speak about the rage that may come from countless frustrations, about the dissatisfaction of losing freedom and autonomy while caring for an ill or compromised child, or the disappointment of missing out on the healthy, happy child that was wanted and expected. At times in my life, I've encountered so much pain I questioned why I became a parent. It's not a truth that's pretty, and I know I am not alone in feeling it. I've included, along with my own, stories of parenting from friends, mostly from members of the meditation community (called a Sangha) I belong to. The names have been changed to protect their identities. I didn't look far for these stories, and I believe every parent has experienced some form of suffering when their child was unwell. You may be suffering right now, or you know someone who is. This book, though, is not only for the moments when the world tips and the ground beneath is suddenly gone; it is also a training manual, to be used in relatively calm and peaceful phases that offer time and space to begin the work of reclaiming your own balance. This book shares wisdom from the three limbs of Buddhism: early Buddhist texts from the Theravada (the wisdom of the elders), the gentleness of Vietnamese Zen, and the compassion of Tibetan Vajrayana. These teachings have helped me find the qualities of solidity, compassion, patience, wisdom, and strength in the face of uncertainty and doubt. You will also find a focus on the practice of equanimity and meditations that have given me (and others) perspective and stability. Entering into a meditation practice by using the practices offered in this book can greatly help train the body to experience the feeling of safety in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. I use the words practice, practitioner, and practicing often in this book. For me, these words signify both the effort of integrating specific teachings and the impact doing so can have on our lives. These words demonstrate that what we do has an effect. If I am a musician, I practice translating the written language of music into a living experience, and I get better at doing so over time. In the same way, I get more skillful at transforming the stuck and painful places in myself when I practice. When I remember to attend to my body, my breath, and my feelings, and to balance myself with the laws of reality, I transform information into a cellular, lived experience that makes all the learning worthwhile and valuable. Such attention is a practice to return to, again and again. I practice meditation; I am a Buddhist practitioner. I practice living in accordance with the mindfulness trainings in Buddhism. I am certainly not perfect, but I put in the work and, most importantly, I bring willingness. I am not a perfect Buddhist. I am a practicing Buddhist. This collection of learnings is not a packet of ancient wisdom to agree or disagree with, but a how-to manual for you to refer to and use in a very practical way. It is in doing these practices, in making a real and sustained effort to extend understanding, forgiveness, care, and compassion to yourself and your circumstances, that you will meet your life. As you read this book, pause, put it down, and try out the practices. You will notice that this book contains stories that can stimulate pain. These stories are painful, hard, and important; walking beside these parents can show us ways out of pain. It can give us solidity and let us know we aren't alone. Our shared stories can transform our pain and give meaning to our suffering. It is my hope that this book can open a conversation about the legitimacy of all the feelings involved in parenting. That is the first step in transforming these painful emotions--allowing them to be seen with understanding and fearlessly acknowledging the truth of what our lives are like while cultivating the compassion and wisdom to know that these fierce, painful feelings are not who we really are. Our society is just waking up to understanding trauma as a response to any powerful or alarming experience during which we were not accompanied or safe. Trauma therapist and healer Resmaa Menakem writes, "Trauma is not a flaw or a weakness. It is a highly effective tool of safety and survival. Trauma is also not an event. Trauma is the body's protective response to an event--or a series of events--that it perceives as potentially dangerous."2 There are stories shared here that hold trauma. I also offer many meditations in this book. If, when you meditate, you find yourself disassociating from the body, shaking, sweating, experiencing nausea, stomach pain, or intrusive flashbacks from the past, this may indicate trauma.3 In this case, please pause to consider how you would like to proceed. Meditation with the guidance of a mental health provider trained in trauma integration can help slow things down and provide support for staying present in the body so the traumatic experience can be metabolized.4 It's also possible that meditation isn't helpful for you right now. My dear friend, for example, developed PTSD after discovering her teenage daughter unconscious following a sleeping pill overdose. For her, meditation creates greater agitation because of reoccurring images and thoughts that arise. She can go into a full-blown panic attack from sitting in meditation. Talking with a trusted mental health provider, attending support groups, and being in the company of caring family and friends is a better way for her to calm her nervous system and gradually integrate intrusive images. Pay attention to what is supportive for you. The Buddha continually urged his followers to "come see for yourself" and not to take things on faith or simply believe the words of those in power. Trust your own wisdom and the wisdom of your body to guide you. I wish all children abundant protection and care. This tends to happen when a warm and capable adult is present in their lives, a person who imparts balance and stability. How can we offer care to children if we, the adults, don't have solidity and balance in ourselves? If you are reading this as a life raft when the sea of pain is swallowing you, it is my hope that you can find your footing again, regain your sovereignty, and know that there is strong earth beneath you--always. You can find your center when the whole world tips. Excerpted from When the Whole World Tips: Parenting Through Crisis with Mindfulness and Balance by Celia Landman All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
