Mothers
Mothers are reputed in several spiritual teachings and around the world as bastions of care and love. Some say that mother’s love is truest, and even somewhat cruel phrases like “only a mother could love that face” show that a mother’s love looks beyond differences, right or wrong, good or bad, and relies on a particular sense of common, shared oneness. Perhaps this is because mothers actually allow the child to incubate within their own bodies, and as such when the child is born there is a greater sense of unity, as this little thing was once literally a piece of her. The Buddha speaks of loving one’s fellow being like a mother loves a child. But what does that mean or feel like?
In my experience, it begins with giving oneself that same kind of love. This speaks to a dichotomous relationship within a being. There is me and then there is myself. The self is the mind made projection which walks through this world for a short time but is not inherently nor essentially “who we are.” It is an attempt by an over-powerful brain to create a crystallized, knowable entity which we call us. It is made of rules and limitations, boundaries and lines because that is what the mind likes: certainty. It is a scared little beast, constantly feeling under threat of annihilation, unable to deal with the changes the real world brings us. It lives with the constant feeling of threat, insecurity, lack, or uncertainty of its own permanence (which, ultimately, does not exist) and so it fears, mistrusts, and tries to find what will make it happy, fulfilled, and no longer feel afraid. Any such panacea, however, is always short lived.
Most humans mistake this entity, the scared child which can only find a sensation of peace and calm for a brief, fleeting moment before finding the new threat, to be who they are in their essence. However, the converse is true. Within all of us, we contain this minimal being which we mistake to be us and the maximal being who is the parent figure which watches and loves this little beast unabashedly. It is not male nor female, young nor old, not even human. The beast, the small child form, is only capable or perceiving things in the short term, looking at things through the filters of past lessons and future gain. This type of thinking leads to its constant search for fulfillment through old modes and frequent anxiety at those old molds not working. It is constantly looking to the past or future for security, fulfillment, or peace, as if the present moment is not good enough. The mind-child only wants things to be easy to understand, compact and easy to digest. Life, however, is not that way. It is confusing, baffling.
As the parent, the witness of this physical form doing its dance of reaction reaction reaction to find some futile and short lived meaning, ours is not to judge or punish this creature. That would be like punishing a cat for tipping over a food bowl or a dog for chasing after a squirrel. Is it possible to hold a grudge against a creature which isn’t even aware of its own action? As the dance of forms unfolds and we, in our true essence, witness it, we must watch this form which we call “ourselves” impartially, with infinite love and grace as it grows, matures, repeatedly hurts itself, and slowly comes to fruition as an expression of the nature of the universe.
Once we love ourselves that way, with infinite sympathy, we can begin to treat others the same. As within, so without.
Addendum, 7/8/14
This is all a pill to make the truth go down easier. In reality, there is no self. Loving oneself is as redundant as hating oneself. There is no self to have a relationship with. However, in the transitional phase toward the realization of no self, it might be helpful for some to treat this self with a feeling of grace and understanding, not considering it me and mine and instead considering it an inevitable part of the growth process of humans. Necessary at a time, as it loses its function, it will one day disappear. In the meanwhile, though, we can treat it with kindness when we stop believing it is “us.”
Mothers are reputed in several spiritual teachings and around the world as bastions of care and love. Some say that mother’s love is truest, and even somewhat cruel phrases like “only a mother could love that face” show that a mother’s love looks beyond differences, right or wrong, good or bad, and relies on a particular sense of common, shared oneness. Perhaps this is because mothers actually allow the child to incubate within their own bodies, and as such when the child is born there is a greater sense of unity, as this little thing was once literally a piece of her. The Buddha speaks of loving one’s fellow being like a mother loves a child. But what does that mean or feel like?
In my experience, it begins with giving oneself that same kind of love. This speaks to a dichotomous relationship within a being. There is me and then there is myself. The self is the mind made projection which walks through this world for a short time but is not inherently nor essentially “who we are.” It is an attempt by an over-powerful brain to create a crystallized, knowable entity which we call us. It is made of rules and limitations, boundaries and lines because that is what the mind likes: certainty. It is a scared little beast, constantly feeling under threat of annihilation, unable to deal with the changes the real world brings us. It lives with the constant feeling of threat, insecurity, lack, or uncertainty of its own permanence (which, ultimately, does not exist) and so it fears, mistrusts, and tries to find what will make it happy, fulfilled, and no longer feel afraid. Any such panacea, however, is always short lived.
Most humans mistake this entity, the scared child which can only find a sensation of peace and calm for a brief, fleeting moment before finding the new threat, to be who they are in their essence. However, the converse is true. Within all of us, we contain this minimal being which we mistake to be us and the maximal being who is the parent figure which watches and loves this little beast unabashedly. It is not male nor female, young nor old, not even human. The beast, the small child form, is only capable or perceiving things in the short term, looking at things through the filters of past lessons and future gain. This type of thinking leads to its constant search for fulfillment through old modes and frequent anxiety at those old molds not working. It is constantly looking to the past or future for security, fulfillment, or peace, as if the present moment is not good enough. The mind-child only wants things to be easy to understand, compact and easy to digest. Life, however, is not that way. It is confusing, baffling.
As the parent, the witness of this physical form doing its dance of reaction reaction reaction to find some futile and short lived meaning, ours is not to judge or punish this creature. That would be like punishing a cat for tipping over a food bowl or a dog for chasing after a squirrel. Is it possible to hold a grudge against a creature which isn’t even aware of its own action? As the dance of forms unfolds and we, in our true essence, witness it, we must watch this form which we call “ourselves” impartially, with infinite love and grace as it grows, matures, repeatedly hurts itself, and slowly comes to fruition as an expression of the nature of the universe.
Once we love ourselves that way, with infinite sympathy, we can begin to treat others the same. As within, so without.
Addendum, 7/8/14
This is all a pill to make the truth go down easier. In reality, there is no self. Loving oneself is as redundant as hating oneself. There is no self to have a relationship with. However, in the transitional phase toward the realization of no self, it might be helpful for some to treat this self with a feeling of grace and understanding, not considering it me and mine and instead considering it an inevitable part of the growth process of humans. Necessary at a time, as it loses its function, it will one day disappear. In the meanwhile, though, we can treat it with kindness when we stop believing it is “us.”