Introducing The Parenting Bodhisattvas

There are those who argue we should always keep the Dharma in the forefront of our minds; others proclaim there is no Dharma, and no mind in which to keep it. But, regardless of what is meant by "mind" and "Dharma", there is the mundane experience of remembering and dwelling on the Truth, and of experiencing our life as a manifestation of that Truth.

A person under stress is liable to forget that the life they are living is nothing other than the unfolding Dharma. Fortunately I have a husband who will kindly remind me--at 2:30 a.m. when the baby refuses to sleep--"This is your advanced spiritual practice."

It's easy to say, and a little cheesy to say, but it's also true. This is a spiritual practice, a lesson in applied bodhisattva-hood. You are literally giving your life to another being. Their supper is your body; their pain racks your heart; to relieve their suffering you would do anything; to see them smile and laugh is a prayer fulfilled. As a parent, your heart is torn open, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You are also aware of not being in control. This has a painful side: your child may scream all night, and you may never know why--but there is also a joyful side: you do what you can, and somehow because of you but more likely in spite of you, a human being self-assembles. An intellect coalesces; a body grows; new preferences and abilities come out of nowhere. A baby does not need to be taught to suck or laugh or hide its head shyly. There is no instruction in chewing on your own toes, falling asleep, or clamoring for solid food. These things happen on their own, when the time is right, regardless of parental effort or opinion.

You could invoke biology to explain the birth and development of babies; you could employ the tools of sociology and psychology to tell you what happens to make some babies grow up into wounded adults, while others endure great pain and are mostly fine. But the experience of being a parent, of witnessing a new human flowering into itself, is something beyond what science is equipped to explain. There is a spiritual element to it--something magical, profound, and deeply right. As a parent, as a human, as a former baby myself, I experience energies that correspond to the archetypes known in Buddhist thought as Bodhisattvas.

Kwan Yin (Jap. Kannon, San. Avalokitesvara)

Kwan Yin is the great parent, the parent you secretly hope to be--and the one you sometimes are, impossibly, with her help. Her kindness and sweetness are boundless. When you feel your heart expanding as if it would burst, she is in you. She embodies the great love that parents and children feel for one another. She brings babies to parents, and parents to babies. She fulfills the unfulfilled; she makes love whole.

To be a baby is to suffer. The screams of the suffering children of the world find a deep hearing with Kwan Yin; she understands and does not avert from their grief. The healing balm she carries soothes the most searing hurt. She is a being composed of pure compassion. When pain overwhelms us, she holds us. When joy overwhelms us, she holds us. Like the extraordinary parent she is, she desires nothing but our safety and happiness, and the fulfillment of our greatest destiny. When we this for our children, and live from that place, we are Kwan Yin.

Jizo (San. Ksitigarbha)

Jizo guides the spirits of new children into this world, and watches over babies who depart from this realm. Nobody really understands where our life comes from, and nobody really understands where we go when we die. In the elation and the tragedy of these transitions, Jizo stands guard with steadfast kindness.

For all the children who enter the world only to find that their parents cannot care for them properly, Jizo is a comforter. For all the babies who cry alone in their crib, Jizo is there. For all the babies who are ignored or mistreated as they earnestly try to accomplish their destiny as little humans, Jizo is there. In the bewilderment and terror of a child in war, of a child abused, of a small life snuffed out or subverted, Jizo offers silent solace. There is no situation so terrible that Jizo's brave heart does not shine.