Saying Goodbye to my Father

I had intended to share all seventeen stanzas in today's Daily Dharma, but my fingers won't move the way they normally do. Sitting alone for the first time since it happened, I'm heartbroken and overwhelmed by the reality. My father died yesterday.

I'll be offline for a while taking care of my mother as we prepare for the memorial and try to get used to life without him.

All prayers, chants, condolences and well-wishes are greatly appreciated during this difficult time.

On Being Glad at Heart

I've been missing the Sangha. Car trouble has prevented me from venturing out too far, and I haven't heard a dharma talk in weeks. I just noticed that the Father's Day message has been posted on the Still Point website.

As a single parent, I shift between the archetypal (some might say traditional, "old fashioned" or stereotypical "gender") roles of father and mother... strong disciplinarian, provider, nurturer, educator... it runs the gamut. And I could relate to everything said about parenthood from a father's perspective. The talk was based on the Sabbasava Sutra:

It took me a while to find a sutra aimed at fathers but, thank Buddha, there is one. Its official title is The Getting Rid of Cares and Troubles Sutra. To be the fathers we want to be we need to do just that, get rid of cares and troubles. Here are the seven behaviors the Buddha offered up to show us how to do it. They are:

1. Getting rid of cares and troubles through insight;
2. Getting rid of them by restraint;
3. Only using things they were designed for;
4. Endurance;
5. Avoidance of things that can harm us;
6. Dispersal of negative thinking; and
7. Heedfulness.

As a parent, the focus seems to often be on getting rid of the cares and troubles of your children... tending to them when they are sick... and guiding them so they don't become too consumed by their cares (be they desires for things or too many things, desires to do things that are unskillful, desires to hold on to unskillful habits or emotions) and instead learn to maintain a healthy balance. To begin, we must learn to be skillful with our own cares and troubles. Next in the Dharma talk came a great teaching on developing presence of mind:

Getting rid of cares and troubles through insight is about letting go of trains of thought that don’t do us any good. Buddha offered a specific listing:

1. Did I exist in the past?
2. Did I not exist in the past?
3. What was I in the past?
4. Shall I exist in the future?
5. What shall I be in the future?
6. How shall I be in the future?
7. Am I?
8. Am I not?
9. What am I?
10. How am I?

You get the picture. The instructions are clear: stop the questioning. You are missing your life.

How often do we find ourselves preoccupied in the presence of our kids? We work all day and bring work home... either physical/actual work or the emotional and stressful burdens of work. Sometimes we take in too much... news, television, time on the phone with friends, time wrapped up in our own pursuits... so that we have nothing left for them.

This summer for me has become about finding some balance here. Turning off the television. Spending time reading, taking walks together, playing board games, and just enjoying the company of my daughter... taking back the time I spent worrying about what's coming next and just sinking into now. Being at home when I'm at home.

The dharma talk goes on to expound further on each of the seven things we can do to get rid of cares and troubles. Read it if you are so inclined. I was particularly moved by the final words:

Can we do all these things? Of course. All the time? Nope. Here’s the secret punchline to the sutra. Even trying, just doing our best, makes us "glad at heart." Buddha promised. Smack in the middle of that "glad at heart" is a wonderful parent.

The Four Paramitas

Four children stood before us this morning. They placed offerings on the altar. They took refuge in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. They took on six precepts. They received Buddhist names. Each child was named after one of the Six Paramitas. They received cedarwood malas and mindfulness bells. The ceremony was incredibly moving. I can't think of a better way to begin Mother's Day.

My daughter's Buddhist name is Ksanti. We also have a Virya, a Sila, and a Prajna.

Ksanti means patience or forbearance. In the Meditation on the Six Paramitas, we say:

May I be patient! May I learn to bear and forbear the wrongs of others!

For me, this is always the hardest practice of all the paramitas. Sometimes it is just hard to forgive, hard to let go. So far, my daughter has been the perfect example of this level of patience. I hope she carries it with her always.

This morning, before leaving for Still Point, we talked a bit about practice. I mentioned that I want to get back into the Intensive Practice routine. We did some bows. We sat for about five minutes. We talked about keeping a Precepts journal. Her decision to begin a practice makes me deeply committed to mine. Whatever reasons I had for not sitting, now bowing, not "getting off it" and forgiving someone... they were quashed today. I think it is a good thing that I'm not alone in my practice anymore. Sangha extends to home now, and we can take refuge in each other.

Ksanti... she always encourages me... to do my workout when I don't want to... to play when I'm tired... to just be present. She will be a good partner in the Dharma. I'm sure she will be a teacher for me more than I will ever be a teacher for her.

Dharma for Kids... WWBD?

Up until recently, my Zen practice has been my own. I have read some Buddhist stories to my daughter, and allowed her to explore the books we have at her leisure... but I never decided that I was going to "make her" Buddhist. As she prepares to participate in the upcoming precepts ceremony, I wonder if she is drastically unprepared.

A few weeks ago, there was an article posted on The Buddhist News Channel about teaching Dharma to children. I flagged it as something I wanted to read later. With all of this "precepts preparation" going on, it seemed a good time to read it. The article, How would Buddha handle your kids, has simple advice which took a great weight off of my shoulders:

The Buddha's advice to parents is straightforward - help your children become generous, virtuous, responsible, skilled and self-sufficient adults [see DN 31 and Sn II.4].

Teaching Buddhism to one's children does not mean giving them long lectures about dependent  co-arising, or forcing them to memorize the Buddha's lists of the eightfold  this, the ten such-and-suches, the seventeen so-and-sos. It simply means giving  them the basic skills they'll need in order to find true happiness. The  rest will take care of itself.

The article references the Ambalatthikarahulovada Sutta [Instructions to Rahula at Mango Stone], which recounts Buddha's teaching to his son Rahula upon catching him in a lie. The teaching is SO practical... In the beginning, Buddha uses a series of metaphors and questions to explain that a person who takes no shame in telling a deliberate lie throws away whatever merit or skill they might have accumulated through contemplative practice. The teaching goes on:

Before you perform a bodily, mental, or verbal act...

1. Think about it.
2. Do you think it will be skillful or unskillful?
3. If you think it will be unskillful, abandon it... don't do it.
4. If you think it will be skillful, try it.

After you perform a bodily, mental or verbal act...

1. Think about it.
2. Were the results skillful or unskillful?
3. If the act resulted in suffering (by self, others or both) it was unskillful. Confess it. Practice restraint. Abandon it.
4. If the act resulted in happy consequences and joyful results, you may continue it.

Buddhism is not meant to be theoretical... You can read the dharma and study the sutras, but the point of study is to take the teachings on in a practical sense. When we had our precepts preparation meetings last year, each week we were asked to reflect on two precepts, what they meant to us, how we might apply them to our lives, what "came up" for us around them, etc. We would then sit in a circle and talk about them.

The children's precepts are a bit different than the ones we take as adults:

1. Do not harm, but cherish all life
2. Do not take what is not given but respect the things of others
3. Do not lie but speak the truth
4. Do not waste but conserve energy and natural resources
5. Do not stay angry or hold grudges
6. Do not cling to things that belong to you, but practice generosity and the joy of sharing

The precepts we take are phrased a bit differenly than they are in other places... I suppose the fact that they are prefixed with the words "Do Not..." makes them seem rather authoritative. Paul mentions this in his recent comment:

I have to ask about these precepts. I agree with all of them, yet the features of Buddhism that have most attracted me are meditation, following the Eightfold Path, and developing one's inner being in a direction of enlightenment.

My Buddhist reading has been eclectic and self directed, but I haven't run into precepts before. I guess that frankly I'm a little concerned that it starts to have the feeling of the Ten Commandments, and the dogmatic rather than experiential approach I was familiar with growing up as a Catholic.

On their face, I suppose they would come off a bit authoritative... but we are not taught to use them that way. We are taught to try them on. We are taught that we can grow into them. "Do not harm but cherish all life" doesn't mean we have to be vegetarian... but we might find that we end up there naturally. We are in constant relationship with our precepts... sometimes we might be totally mindless about conserving energy, for example. At other times, we might be more deliberate... turning off lights that aren't being used... limiting the time we are in the shower, washing clothes in cold water, etc.

As we discuss them, I'm looking for ways to make them practical for my daughter, and to have her think about the consequences of breaking a precept instead of looking at them simply as "you must/must not..." rules or prescriptions. What happens to you when you stay angry? How does it make you feel? Does it help? What would help?

My Daughter the Buddha

This year we will have the first Precepts Ceremony for children at Still Point. I have been attending Sunday services for just over a year now, and completed the ceremony myself last year. Now, my daughter wants to do it. She is eight years old.

I've been really curious about why she wants to take the precepts. I expected her to do it (if she ever did it) when she was much older. It is important to me that I don't cram my religious/spiritual beliefs down her throat... that she understands the significance of the choice... and that she owns it. We talked about it during dinner tonight.

'Why do you want to take the precepts," I ask.

"For lots of reasons. I can't list them all it would take an hour." she says.

"Well, tell me as many as you can while we finish eating dinner," I say.

"Well, mostly because I want to be just like you, Mom."

I smile. I'm stunned. That was probably the last thing I expected to hear her say. I look at myself in my role as mother with a lot of criticism and self-doubt. Most of the time, I think I'm at best an average parent. I always think I should be doing more. When it comes down to it, I want to be just like my daughter.

She's so generous. When we go to Sunday services, she goes to what she calls the kid's room. She packs a bag with crafts or toys and snacks and is very consientious about packing enough for everyone to share. She's nice to everyone. She's lighthearted and has a healthy respect for fun and play. I feel very old and boring and closed standing next to my daughter.

We start to talk about religion.

"Your spiritual practice, your religious beliefs... you really have to believe them for yourself. We should talk about the precepts before you make your final decision. Becoming a Buddhist means that you want to be like Buddha... that you want to follow his example. What does that mean to you?"

"Is it like in the Buddha books... like how he went away and got rid of all his hair?" [she's talking about the manga series by Osamu Tezuka]

"Well, you don't have to be a monk... and you don't have to cut off your hair. But you vow to do certain things... not to do other things. That's what the precepts are... they are vows. When you take them, you say what you stand for... what you are committed to..."

Our plan is to talk about the precepts during dinner every night, and to do as many bows as we can in preparation for the ceremony. I'm looking forward to these talks.

On Losing It

I love my daughter. I mean it... I really, really love my daughter. She is beautiful and smart and fun. That being said, I really get ticked when I have to clean up after her. It is par for the course, I know. I still can't pretend I like it. She is eight years old. This means that she can't eat without getting crumbs all over the place. This means that she can't pick up her dirty clothes and put them in a hamper. This means that her toys are always all over the place. I'm looking for strategies on how to teach her to consistently pick up after herself. Parents with a clue, let me in on it.

I have learned how to deal with most of the unpleasantries of life. Most things roll off my back. What I find interesting is that fact that my daughter is the person with whom I lose it the most. She is certainly not the person who deserves it the most (if I were keeping score). I start to ask myself... "What's up with this?"

The idea of losing control assumes that we are in control, and I believe this is where the breakdown occurs. Parents "lose it" because they believe they are supposed to be "in control." We are taught to believe that adults are in control, or should be.

But control is an illusion; there is no such thing as control, only the appearance of control which is maintained by pushing our feelings down, "flatlining" our emotions.

...from Time out for Parents by Cheri Huber, pg. 22

If I look at what I'm feeling as I'm "losing it" I usually find things like extreme fatigue and overwhelm. It's not what she is doing that is causing my reaction. Usually, I'm just plain tired. When I'm tired, I want things to go my way so I can relax then rest as soon as possible. Anything that interrupts that pathway gets on my damned nerves. It is no coincidence that I usually have these feelings and become irrationally impatient at the end of a day. After driving an hour to pick her up from latch key on time, after dealing with those people I work with all day, after traffic and bad weather... let's face it... I'm burned out and often in a sour mood. The farther away it is from Sunday, the more exhausted I am.  It's not her fault. She gets the short end of the stick, being the only child of a single parent in America.

Thinking about all of this led me back to a book that I read before she was born. Pregnancy spurred a new category in my book-buying addiction. I probably had 15-20 parenting books in my collection before I started to let some of my books go (which of itself is a process). This one is my favorite... and I decided to read it again and really put it into practice. It's called The 10 Greatest Gifts I Give My Children. I highly recommend it to all parents.

Working with Anger

I am a single mother. I decided that I would do whatever it takes to raise my daughter in the best environment I could provide. My relationship with her father was volatile when she was born, and didn't improve much during that first year though we both did the best we could. We broke up.

We were already living in separate parts of the country--he on the east coast, me in the midwest. I expected that we would have the typical post-breakup cooling off period, then I expected we would learn to be parents if not friends. That was six years ago.

I was angered by the fact that he wasn't contributing to my daughter then, and I continued to be angry until I found a better way. No child support. No personal contact whatsoever... no calls, no birthday cards, no letters. Most of the time, over the years, I have had no way to even contact him. As my little girl gets older, she feels the void. She wants a father, and I want that for her. You would think I would be happy now that I've finally heard from him and he seems to want to be a father. No. I have been madder than ever.

I have talked things through with my friends these past few months. They talk about how well adjusted my child is, and encourage me to believe that she will not be harmed by the absence of her father. I am not convinced. They sit in restaurants with me and nod compassionately as I vent my frustrations... as I list my upsets. They are good friends, so they co-sign my anger, my disappointment, my pain. For as long as I need it, I have my own personal amen corner.

Lately, I have asked myself... is this what I really need? To be validated in my anger? What good does it do?

Well, depends on who you ask. If you ask my ego-mind, it makes all the difference. There is nothing quite like righteous anger to get the ego fired up. Righteous anger is the most dangerous for me, the most long-lived because it feels so good. There is no better fuel than believing you are standing on the moral high ground. It becomes like throwing kindling on a fire... the anger never dies.

The first shift away from anger came from taking refuge in the Dharma. I started looking for teachings... for enlightenment. I read the Five Mindfulness Trainings by Thich Naht Hanh. I read from the Still Point Dhammapada. I read from the Mahayana sutras. I focused in on The Sutra of the Assembled Treasures. One short passage stuck with me and remains with me still. It describes four signs that indicate a Bodhisattva's right mentality:

(1) The Bodhisattva does not hide his transgressions, but exposes them to others so that his mind is free from covers and bonds.

(2) He never speaks false words even if he loses his own body, life, country or kingdom.

(3) When he encounters misfortunes, being scolded, beaten, slandered, bound, or otherwise injured, he blames himself only; resigning himself to karmic retribution, he does not hate others.

(4) He maintains his faith firmly; when he hears the Buddha-Dharma which is profound and difficult to believe, his pure mind can accept and uphold it entirely. [A Treasury of Mahayana Sutras, page 389]

Karma. Karma is one of those touchy subjects in Buddhism. Who wants to think about all of the negative karma they have created over thousands of lifetimes? Too depressing. Who could get out of bed? No, when I'm in the middle of righteous anger, I like to think about other people's karma. It helps to remind myself that they will ultimately get theirs. I've been told by some that I should go after this guy. "Why should he get off without paying child support?", they ask. I know that he has never really gotten off. He can't. He won't.

When I'm having one of my pity parties (which don't happen often, but let's face it... they do happen) I feel robbed. I focus on every negative twist I can put on this situation (that is what pity parties are for, right?). I think about what I sacrifice, what I give up, what would be better if I had chosen a different man to have a child with, yada, yada, yawn. Pity parties get boring and ridiculous after awhile. I woke up one morning and realized (with the help of my teacher) that I was in the midst of a pity party. She is far too gracious to state it quite that way, but that is one thing I took from her counsel. The general gist of her message? My daughter is great. She will grow up to be a wonderful woman. She seems no worse for the wear. "Maybe just accept what is and move out from there, yes?"

And that was it, where the second shift occurred. When I took refuge in the Sangha and called on my teacher I felt so much lighter. Clear. Gratitude will take me much farther than anger ever will. It will also be a great big lesson for my daughter on how to live big, above the battleground. If I didn't have the refuges, I would probably be talking to a well trained assassin (or at least a good lawyer). Now I can breathe, and calmly consider what is in my little one's best interests, and have space to sit and chant and prostrate and get on with my practice. Anger is no longer in the way. At least, not today.