13
Parenting
When you think about it, being a parent is very much like a 90-minute strenuous yoga routine, only expanded into 20 years or more. You come up against all kinds of edges, find numerous opportunities of choosing how to be present with what is happening, and find out a lot about yourself in the process. I believe yoga can help us tremendously in meeting the challenge of parenting in the 21st century.
I also believe that parenting in the 21st century is very different from any other time in history. Only 50 or so years ago, we could almost predict that things would not change a lot from one generation to another. Not so now. When I grew up in Australia, I did not see television until I was 11 years old. Now just 40 years later, my children learned to navigate their way around the Internet long before age 10. Children of today no longer believe that the education system can teach them a finite body of knowledge that will equip them for life. They understand the need to learn how to learn and how to access information as a solid foundation in any education. By the time they become teenagers, they are probably much more adept at accessing information about anything, than both parents combined. Old systems of control, used for generations of parenting, no longer apply. How can you control someone who has more information about everything than you do? It’s a set-up for failure. Instead, parents must learn how to be enrollers and know how to inspire their offspring into playing a game of life that works and offers results worth achieving. They also have to provide the safety of structure and boundaries that used to once be provided by society at large, but which now no longer exist. They have to do this in the face of uncertainty and with inadequate training for the job. It makes parenting a much more difficult and more daunting task than ever before, but one that if handled well, will continue to speed up the incredible transformation of consciousness that is accompanying the technological revolution. It takes some focused commitment, though, to get there.
I remember when my first-born child was in her mid- to late teens. I was a single parent struggling to raise a teenage daughter and her younger brother. By this time, I had developed a daily yoga practice and used it as my anchor to life. My daughter was pressing up against every boundary I had established. In hindsight, my boundaries were probably way too tight. I was scared. She was my only daughter. I didn’t want any harm to come to her. I’m sure the story is a familiar one. I was being an overprotective dad and it clearly wasn’t working. She was being a rebellious and somewhat troubled teenager. I didn’t know which way to turn. Each morning in my yoga practice I would try to let go of the worry. Trying didn’t work. In fact, it has been said that when you are trying to do something you are not really doing it—and I was clearly not doing it. It was during those moments that I sometimes doubted the effectiveness of my yoga practice. My mind would engage thoughts like, “How come I can’t let go of this problem?” and “What good is my yoga practice if I get calm in the morning and then become a worried, angry, over-controlling dad by early afternoon, when I find my daughter has skipped school again?”
One morning in my practice I realized I was truly not trying. Maybe I had let go of trying or given up—I’m not sure which. I had begun a new routine involving lots of standing postures. One posture was garurasana—the eagle pose. This is a somewhat difficult balance posture, which involves balancing on one leg with the other leg intertwined around the standing leg. The arms are intertwined with the hands in front of the face. The gaze, like that of an eagle, is focused directly ahead.
As I practiced I thought about my daughter. If only I could figure out how to “fix” the problems she was having and everything would come back to “normal.” Of course I never could. I entered the eagle posture. I had to concentrate to hold my balance and my mind shifted focus from my daughter to the balance in the posture. Once established in the posture I began to experience the feelings and images associated with being an eagle—spiritual vision, a reserve of power to be used wisely and only if needed, balance, one pointed-ness, deep concentration, gazing into the sun with an elevated clarity. I affirmed to myself “I am the eagle!”
Thoughts of my daughter returned but I remained in the energy of the eagle. As the eagle, I saw myself giving my little eagle (my daughter) more space to experience her own wings, and trusting that she would learn, and that even if she crashed, there was very little I could do now anyway. It is said that the eagle has incredibly powerful eyesight and that it can look directly into the sun—symbolizing looking directly at the Father (the masculine aspect of the Divine). I was beginning to experience the power and the trust of that Divine Father.
That afternoon I sat down with her and told her that I could no longer take responsibility for the outcome of her life and had learned that I must now give that to her. I told her I cared for her and loved her, told her she now had to make choices in life for herself (which she was doing anyway), and that I would always be there if she needed my support or counsel. From that day on, we became more comfortable both in our relationship and in our shared day-to-day lives. In my parenting, from that day forth, I took the eagle with me, into my being. It remains with me and is a part of who I am as a parent.
Years later, on reflection, I see that it’s not so much what I do as a parent that matters as much as how I be. When I am being a father with the qualities I deem important in fathering, then my parenting takes on a whole new dimension and becomes a relatively easy role. When I try to plot and plan with my mind about what I should do, without dropping into a state of who I am, or who I want to be as a parent, I struggle in the role.
My daughter was not only instrumental in teaching me about parenting. She also had the honor of teaching me my first lessons in the yoga of grandparenting as the following extract from my journal illustrates.
Becoming a grandpa for the first time gives me much to think about. Twenty-five years earlier I was a father for the first time. And here I am, still a work in progress, still struggling with all those life issues like relationships, responsibility, accountability, integrity and so forth. I’m an unfinished grandpa. And that’s a surprise. After all, weren’t grandpas supposed to have it all together? Be wise and all-knowing? And here I am, a grandpa, still hard at work on my own dharmic evolution. And despite my “unfinishedness” and my hit-and-miss parenting of my dear daughter and her three brothers, she has not only survived but has actually nourished the growth of the family tree by giving birth to little Robert. All I can say is, “Wow!”
As an aspiring yogi, I have to take a little time out and see if there is not something more to learn from this new posture of “Grandpaness.” For years now, I’ve been teaching my yoga therapy clients and students to “be in the experience,” “breathe into the posture” and “see what it has to teach you.” I believe what we learn on the yoga mat has application to life, and then how we approach the postures in life can also be learning experiences. The yoga posture is life in miniature. The big postures happen in life day-to-day. Like becoming grandpa. So what can I learn from this posture?
First, my daughter calls me and says she is going to be having her baby in two days and would be having her labor induced. She also tells me she will be given medication during labor to minimize the pain. I immediately go into an internal reaction. Luckily, I pick up on my body signals enough to recognize the reaction and not launch into a spontaneous lecture on natural childbirth. After all, 25 years ago her mother and I had sweat it out with a natural birth. We had compromised on going to a hospital rather than having a home birth, but insisted it be totally natural and drug-free. Now here was the result of that 20-hour labor, my daughter, now choosing differently. What sort of a yogi was I to have created this? I take one breath, catch what my mind is doing, process it, integrate it and let it go—all in two seconds flat. Then I utter, “That’s wonderful, Dear, I’ll be there.”
Off the phone, I ask myself: “What have I done? How can I leave all the things I have to do, the rest of my family, and head off to somewhere in Georgia for four days? Does that make sense? Of course it doesn’t, but something inside says, ‘Go!’” So, I did.
Next afternoon, bouncing around in an airplane in turbulence on my way to Atlanta, I have time to do a little more processing and meditation. “Let go, let go,” comes the inner voice. “This is not your call. Step back, Grandpa. Your role is different here. It’s time to learn the distinction between doing and being. The distinction between being a parent and being a grandparent. Parents do, grandparents be. Your job is to be present in this posture. That’s all.” Haaaa! Another deep breath. I’m engaging the posture.
I arrive at Keiron’s home, connect with her and her husband again, place my hand on her belly and feel the baby’s movements and experience the excitement of the impending birth. I’m in the posture taking in that first sweet feeling of bliss. All is well.
Next morning, Keiron leaves early for the hospital to begin the induction. I arrive a few hours later and she is in labor. Nothing to do but be present. Focus and wait. A few hours pass, contractions are stronger, she asks for, and receives, pain medication. I take another deep breath. Now I’m really in the posture and experiencing some discomfort. Breathe and let go. Haaaaaa!
My son-in-law, Bob, happens to be working on a construction site right at the hospital. How convenient. But today he is not working but being present with Keiron for the birth of his son. This part of the posture feels good. “Aaaaaah.” Bob wants to go over to the construction site, just minutes away to see his father and brothers and tell them what’s happening. He asks me if I want to go. Keiron’s Mom is there with her and a little break in the action would be good. I go along. We put on our hard hats and hang out for a few minutes with the men at the site. We talk about the impending birth from that cool, detached, no big deal, kind of place that only men on a construction site could. Bob’s beeper makes some noise. He looks at it and breaks away in a fast gallop back to the hospital with me in hot pursuit. It’s Keiron, letting him know that it’s time to return as “something’s happening.” My heart beats faster; the posture is getting intense.
We rush into the delivery room to Keiron’s side, still wearing hard hats. The nurse present and Keiron’s mom crack-up in amusement. Light relief. Keep breathing though, you are still in the posture. “Aaaaaah.”
My grandson is ready to be born. We are only waiting for a doctor. “Why?” I ask. “Is he necessary?” Ooops....Don’t interfere....I almost fell out of the posture. Back in....Breathe....“Aaah.”
Keiron asks for the lights to be dimmed and for her favorite chanting tape, “Lady Mass,” to be played. “Ahhhh.”...How sweet. How beautifully spiritual. Those two years she lived in an ashram had some effect. Ooops....More mind-chatter. Back to the posture. Be present. Be present. Breathe.
Doctor arrives in traditional hospital ritual fashion. My mind avoids comment. I’m doing better. He adopts his position and tells Keiron it’s okay to push. Three pushes later and voilà... little Bob is born.
We all cry. The tears for me are tears of joy and also tears of deep bliss from once again experiencing the miracle of birth. A new life, a spirit takes body form and enters the world. And I am his grandpa. How awesome. I like this posture. I really can let go into it now and come out of it feeling its benefits. I have been touched by the grace of God, once more. Being here was the right choice. Thank you, God.
Exercise
A YOGA POSTURE FOR PARENTS: THE EAGLE
As with many yoga postures, the way into the eagle posture is critical. If we don’t focus on this part of the posture, it often doesn’t happen. Begin with deep full breaths and a sense of freedom though the body. Take a deep breath and on the exhale intertwine the arms and hands, right under left. Focus on the right leg which will be the standing or supporting leg. Slightly bend it at the knee, and keeping the focus on its support, on another exhaling breath, lift the left thigh high up over the right and lace the left foot behind the right calf. Lengthen the whole body slightly and open the chest and throat. If you fall out of the posture, take a deep breath and start again from the very beginning, taking your time. Once established in the posture, focus your gaze on a spot directly in front and breathe deeply. Become the eagle—focused, aware, present, ever-watching, strong. Affirm, “I am the eagle.”
