“When we bring past events to the present moment and make them the object of our mindfulness, it teaches us a lot. When we were part of those events, we could not see them as clearly as we do now. With the practice of mindfulness, we have new eyes, and we can learn many things from the past.”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh*
“What happened to you as a child matters.”
~ Eruch Jessawala*
At age thirty, enthralled by motherhood, I had looked at my new five-year-old daughter with her cap of auburn hair and freckles and then twenty months later held her baby sister, wrapped in a soft, yellow blanket, as we left the hospital. Having both of them to care for prompted my memory of being told, when I was old enough to understand, that I had been a problem baby and a problem child. I had accepted those labels and still saw myself through them; momentarily I had felt my anger.
Having now faced this hidden emotion, I soon had the thought that a baby is not a problem. A baby has needs, and it is for the parent to meet those needs. A child is not a problem. A child presenting a seeming problem is an opportunity for a parent to learn, when not knowing how to handle a situation. It was a strong, clarified view that brought a feeling of independence and freedom from the past. I felt the vigor of my conviction to treat my daughters differently—still knowing that there might be failures. During their years of living at home, when I made mistakes, I recognized when I was the one who needed to change, not them.
As a counselor by age fifty-six, I focused my clients on two topics: emotional maturity and looking for answers within, which I called re-viewing. I based my work on what I had learned from a personal crisis in 1989, at age forty-six, after which I had joined two self-help groups, aware that I both needed and wanted to change myself. The work began by my looking at the influence my past still held over me, and my need to create a different present that I now strongly desired. Completing that learning, I had moved to a spiritual study course and then on to becoming an ordained minister and counselor.* All the while I continued to work with myself, ever-more discerning of which emerging parts of my past still influenced me negatively and aware that by releasing what was old and disruptive, I would open to a new and better-informed understanding of myself.
With each release I was creating how I wanted to be at that moment. I had learned the importance of healing through compassion and a commitment to change, and as I better understood myself, I found my understanding of others expanding and positively influencing my relationships. What had happened in the past had been locked in by my thoughts and emotions at that time. Compassionately understanding what they had been and why I had felt them led to a personal forgiveness and the chance to consciously right a wrong, even ones that were very complex. Two editors of my book, A Flower for God*, begun over a dozen years ago, have told me that the most beautiful and powerful poem in it is “To an Angry Daughter,” written to my older daughter, asking for her forgiveness and telling her of my love for her, then and now.
Today, re-viewing through an ever-widening spiritual awareness remains as an established pattern that continues to bring change to my perceptions and allow a greater calm to prevail more often.
My realization is, “When we read the words of wise people and recognize that this is how we have been living, there can be a deeply felt thankfulness for having our efforts affirmed.”
* Be Free Where You Are (from a talk given at the Maryland Correctional Institution at Hagerstown), Parallax Press, Berkeley, CA © 2002.
* Eruch Jessawala was the primary interpreter of Avatar Meher Baba, both of His English language alphabet board and later His sign language. Meher Baba was in silence from 1925-1969, when He dropped His body. This quote is a comment that Eruch made to a resident.
~ Thich Nhat Hanh*
“What happened to you as a child matters.”
~ Eruch Jessawala*
At age thirty, enthralled by motherhood, I had looked at my new five-year-old daughter with her cap of auburn hair and freckles and then twenty months later held her baby sister, wrapped in a soft, yellow blanket, as we left the hospital. Having both of them to care for prompted my memory of being told, when I was old enough to understand, that I had been a problem baby and a problem child. I had accepted those labels and still saw myself through them; momentarily I had felt my anger.
Having now faced this hidden emotion, I soon had the thought that a baby is not a problem. A baby has needs, and it is for the parent to meet those needs. A child is not a problem. A child presenting a seeming problem is an opportunity for a parent to learn, when not knowing how to handle a situation. It was a strong, clarified view that brought a feeling of independence and freedom from the past. I felt the vigor of my conviction to treat my daughters differently—still knowing that there might be failures. During their years of living at home, when I made mistakes, I recognized when I was the one who needed to change, not them.
As a counselor by age fifty-six, I focused my clients on two topics: emotional maturity and looking for answers within, which I called re-viewing. I based my work on what I had learned from a personal crisis in 1989, at age forty-six, after which I had joined two self-help groups, aware that I both needed and wanted to change myself. The work began by my looking at the influence my past still held over me, and my need to create a different present that I now strongly desired. Completing that learning, I had moved to a spiritual study course and then on to becoming an ordained minister and counselor.* All the while I continued to work with myself, ever-more discerning of which emerging parts of my past still influenced me negatively and aware that by releasing what was old and disruptive, I would open to a new and better-informed understanding of myself.
With each release I was creating how I wanted to be at that moment. I had learned the importance of healing through compassion and a commitment to change, and as I better understood myself, I found my understanding of others expanding and positively influencing my relationships. What had happened in the past had been locked in by my thoughts and emotions at that time. Compassionately understanding what they had been and why I had felt them led to a personal forgiveness and the chance to consciously right a wrong, even ones that were very complex. Two editors of my book, A Flower for God*, begun over a dozen years ago, have told me that the most beautiful and powerful poem in it is “To an Angry Daughter,” written to my older daughter, asking for her forgiveness and telling her of my love for her, then and now.
Today, re-viewing through an ever-widening spiritual awareness remains as an established pattern that continues to bring change to my perceptions and allow a greater calm to prevail more often.
My realization is, “When we read the words of wise people and recognize that this is how we have been living, there can be a deeply felt thankfulness for having our efforts affirmed.”
* Eruch Jessawala was the primary interpreter of Avatar Meher Baba, both of His English language alphabet board and later His sign language. Meher Baba was in silence from 1925-1969, when He dropped His body. This quote is a comment that Eruch made to a resident.