Why Mindful Parenting Works For Me

Of all the parenting approaches out there, you would think one that reflects teachings and ideas from such varied sources as psychology, Buddhism, and even Seinfeld (stay with me here) would provoke little controversy. But in keeping with our American tradition of the Parenting Wars {breast vs. bottle, cry-it-out vs. co-sleep, just to name a few}, we even have battles in the mindful parenting world. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)

In this editorial at Slate, Hanna Rosin describes mindful parenting as a “trend” that is “setting parents up to fail.” She claims it’s simply another way to control our kids: we’re just churning out mindful Zen-babies that behave perfectly and never act, well, childish.

And if that’s what mindful parenting was, then yes, we would fail. Any parenting style, if adopted rigidly, will ultimately make us feel like George Costanza-worthy disasters.

I can understand the aversion to “mindful parenting.” When I first heard the term many years ago, I thought, WAIT! Does that mean I’m a mindless and unintentional parent? For a nonjudgmental approach, it sounded pretty judgy.

Mindful parenting is simply applying the practice of mindfulness {non-judgmental awareness} to parenting, the way we also apply our practice to working and playing and living.

The Buddha told his followers to only accept his teachings once they had tested them in their own lives and seen for themselves that they led to “welfare and happiness.” Well, I’ve tested mindful parenting. It does not make me, nor my children, perfect. I make mistakes, and then I continue to practice. But it works for me. Here’s why:

“The sea was angry that day my friends…”

I think the heart of mindful parenting is remembering to take a mindful pause when we enter stormy waters.

Carla Naumburg, author of the Mindful Parenting blog at Psych Central, responded to Rosin’s article by describing mindful parenting as follows: “It’s about the ability to tune into what is right in front of us, to accept it without judgment, and to make enough space in our crazy brains to make a choice about how we want to respond. That’s it.”

One morning, when my daughter was seven, we had a particularly difficult morning because I … wait for it … needed to brush her hair. She screamed every time the brush encountered a tangle. She was already mad because, at 6:23am, I was not able to figure out the precise Rainbow Loom maneuver to make a double rhombus while simultaneously cooking eggs and making lunches. As the brush hit another snarl, she screamed, “You are the worst mommy EVER!”

My heart rate sped up as the sea turned angry. I wanted to yell back, “I make your lunch, I brush your hair, I love and feed and clothe you, and THIS is how you treat me?!?!”

But I didn’t. Instead, I paused, took a deep breath, and remained calm as I tried to figure out the most skillful way to respond.

And then my daughter said, “Actually, that’s not true.” That’s right! I thought. You don’t know ALL the moms!

She continued, “You’re a good mommy. I’m just mad at you.” Holy beans! I thought. This mindful parenting stuff works!!

My mindful pause allowed my daughter to take a mindful pause after her Festivus-style airing of grievances. By pausing, we didn’t let the violent waves of the storm intensify: we found a way to surf along them.

Sometimes we can get away with acting on instinct, but if we are, say, George Costanza, it doesn’t always work. Didn’t he once say, “Every instinct I have, in every aspect of life, … it’s all been wrong”?

In K.J. dell’Antonia’s article about mindful parenting on Motherlode, she quips, “there is probably a reason that the phrase ‘visceral parenting’ has not really taken off.”

Mindful parenting helps me forgo the unskillful gut reaction and find the thoughtful response. A tense situation deescalates. The storm subsides.

“Master of My Domain”

Whether you derive your parenting philosophy from Seinfeld or the Buddha, it pretty much comes down to this: what can I control? And as much as we may like to think otherwise, it only takes about 4 minutes of parenting to realize there’s not much that we can control about our children.

So I may not be the master of my domain, but I can learn to accept the things I do not control, and act skillfully toward the things I DO control. Like…

“Yada Yada Yada…”

What I can control is the narrative, the yada yada yada in my mind. This could be the noisiest, messiest house on the block, or it could be the most exciting and playful. My little chatterbox could be the annoying kid from Jerry Maguire with his constant barrage of questions and fun facts: “Mommy, did you know the Xbox 360 was released in 2005?  Mommy, did you know tornadoes are really strong? Mommy, why don’t skeletons have hair?” Or he could be the most adorable and curious and engaging and delightful little boy EVER. (He is.)

“It’s Not You, It’s Me.”

In many ways, mindful parenting is not about my kids at all. It’s about me. My thoughts, my responses. It’s asking, What is needed of me right now?

Usually, what is NOT needed of me right now is…

“Festivus”

Though the Costanzas might have enjoyed the ritual airing of grievances, Festivus doesn’t usually work for the rest of us. Yes, you have totally legitimate grievances, but if they keep replaying on an endless loop in your head, it’s not really helpful. When your little one has an accident for the third time today, it’s easy to get sucked into the thought vortex of how many MORE accidents you’ll clean up today and tomorrow and the day after that….

With mindfulness, we learn how to perform Festivus-worthy feats of strength, like being able to cultivate shrinkage (focusing on RIGHT NOW, as hard as that can be), while at the same time keeping our awareness broad enough to understand that this incident, right now, is simply one wave in a large sea.

*****

Mindful parenting, though the phrase is inevitably becoming a buzzword and a “trend,” is really nothing new. It’s about paying attention, remaining curious, pausing a billion times a day, making mistakes and making amends, and being kind and compassionate with yourself.

You’re not setting yourself up for failure or trying to control the uncontrollable. You’re simply creating the space you need to embrace “the full catastrophe” of parenting.

And if this soup just isn’t for you, there’s nothing wrong with that.

 

Sarah Rudell Beach
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