My younger daughter, four and a half year old, has just started school this year (April)…

She loves going to school; I am the one who is under immense stress! Reason for my stress – I see her notebooks everyday with red circles all over – each  letter going even one tenth of a millimeter outside the ‘blue lines’ in the ‘four line page’ is marked with a circle…and then a comment at the bottom “child needs more practice’’. In her defense, her formations are correct, some of them only go over the lines! But since I see these circles day after day, I keep pestering her to write correctly, write more and then some more…

My dear one, who is new to the whole experience of getting up early and going to school, comes back drained in this scorching heat…I pity her and pamper her for a while, but soon it is time for the strict mother to surface! Time to study! And there I see the red circles again!

Well, after quite a few days of stress I decided that there is no point in putting so much pressure on my kid…She might take some time to get used to writing…but eventually she will learn. And she has her whole life in front of her to keep writing, writing and writing. She is only in KG! I became relaxed, and shouted less at her. Did it make a difference? I don’t exactly know. But the fact is – she is improving every day, little by little she is making progress.

So I started thinking: Was it right by the teacher to do this? What was her reason behind this?

I do not have any answers to these questions, but since my child hasn’t complained about her teacher, I thought probably the red marks were meant for the mothers who have to get their kids to do the homework!

Anyway, did my child benefit from my being less stressed about her work? I think she did. She is not as unhappy as she was about writing now.

And, did it help me? A big ‘Yes’…

I know my child is capable, I know I can teach her…so what difference does it make if she gets a C1 in the first assessment!

I will better make learning a joyful experience for her…

Memories fade…

On the spur of the moment, today I read the diary notes I had written almost four years ago during the time of my daughter’s surgery. It braught tears to my eyes, I could feel my heart clenching within me…! The memories of those seven days, the terrible sadness and anxiety I felt during the pre-op days, the pain I felt when she cried with pain during the post-op period, the look of fear I saw in her eyes…I relived every thing that I jotted down during those few days…

When I was writing my feelings down during those days, it was thinking my daughter (who at that time was 9 months old) might like to know, some day, what it was like during the time she had her surgery. I never imagined that reading those notes at a later time would affect me as it did!

Anyway, the topic I wished to write about was not the pain or the feelings I had when my daughter had surgery, but how memories fade and the power of the written word.

I wondered whether it is a common trend in men, to forget things, the experiences we have, the pain and anguish we suffer, the excitement and joy we feel!

Could it be possible that it is part of an escape plan, when we bury our pains or anxieties so deep down within our subconscious that it never surface again, so that we go on leading our lives in the semblance of normalcy?

But then, how can be the forgotten joys explained? I tried to revive the joy I felt while holding my baby for the first time in my hands, and somehow the same feeling has not recurred. Yes, I can explain what had happened on that day, minute by minute, but the exact degree of the emotion I felt then cannot be reached…

Could it be possible that the accumulation of day-to-day experiences push all our past emotions to the background, to make way? There they remain collecting dust, awaiting a day when they are remembered again. And to recollect and remember we often need the aid of a diary note which might act as a vaccum cleaner…!

Has patience become an uncommon virtue in the present generation? I look around and see impatient young men and women all around…

People driving do not have even a minute at the traffic lights. Pedestrians seem to value their time much more than even life that they do not wait even a minute at the crossing. It only takes a minute for people to be aggressive verbally or physically. I often feel very angry seeing these things around.

Isn’t patience waning not only on roads, but also in our homes? I agree there have been domestic problems all through the time, but has it not increased in the past decade or so?

Husband-wife compatibility seems to have hit a low point, divorce cases are on the rise, even young children have so much anger within…

I looked around but then looked within…Even I am less tolerant and very impatient these days. Not that I was a ‘patience personified’ earlier, but still…Now even small things get to me very easily…Why?

What is patience? I feel patience is acceptance of people around oneself, irrespective of their behaviour. It is being not affected by the incidents that appear to be against one’s own principles. It is better to be not affected by any behaviour which one cannot change. Patience is being able to ‘respond and not react’.

How can we practice? The wise have always advised counting till 100 before you react to any situation. The mind should be calm as the still water in a pond.

The Mother’s words, “..it is not good to be impatient and agitated- you must do everything peacefully and quietly without haste.” And She gives the way to develop patience as well. “If the mind remains quiet in all circumstances and happenings patience will be more increased.” (CWM 14, pg 177)

            

                 Source: www.motherandsriaurobindo.org

         (Flower: Ageratum houstonianum, deep lavender

   Significance: Vital patience. Indispensable for all progress)

All circumstances are opportunities for progress. The most important thing is how we carry ourselves through them. At every moment, we have a choice – to break or to be strong.

Realization of the need of improvement may be the beginning of the journey, hence my journey begins…

I started working as soon as I finished my studies and continued till my elder daughter was born. When she was born I had to make a choice- continue on a career path and reach great heights or enjoy motherhood and bring her up being a hands-on-mother. I had several factors to consider, but finally I chose to be a hands-on-mother.

Now after 10 years and having another daughter, there are moments when I tend to question my decision.

Do I regret my decision to leave a promising career and stay home? NO.

Do I miss the hustle-bustle of the office and the interaction with colleagues? Yes.

Hence, when I got the opportunity to work in the playschool, I did not hesitate to take it. It is not a big career, neither big money, but it was a welcome change from sitting home doing nothing in the mornings while my kids are at school…

I draw comfort from the words of the Mother. “You must do the work as an offering to the Divine and take it as part of your sadhana. In that spirit, the nature of the work is of little importance and you can do any work without losing the contact with the inner presence.” (CWM 14, pg 319)

I try to remember this and not get dejected. The work I do is not something I would really have liked, but still it is some use of my abilities and my attitude is the only thing that matters. There is no career growth here, but I get to learn every day. I constantly meet people who look down on us, which hurt, and it takes great effort to ignore their negative attitude. The behaviour of certain co-workers is often repugnant, but I remind myself of the Mother’s advice to take it coolly and go on with the work quietly.

                              Image courtesy : Google images

{Flower:Acacia Auriculiformis (common name – Wattle)

Spiritual significance given by the Mother – “Let us offer our work to the Divine, this is the sure way of progressing.”}

May be, the obstacle to overcome within myself is the ego and preference towards a particular type of work. Whenever it becomes difficult to keep calm, I remind myself that my work is my offering to the Divine, I only have to consecrate sincerely and She will take care. The journey continues with this faith..

More of Her words which bring strength. “Let us work as we pray, for indeed work is the body’s best prayer to the Divine.” (Ibid, pg 321)

      

‘Home is where the heart is’ says the wise…

So, it wouldn’t matter whether I am away from home for a year or ten years if my dear husband and kids are with me. And if due to some unexpected turn in life I have to live alone for a year, then modern technology will keep me in constant contact with my family…

But then I imagined myself completely alone, cut off from the world….May be, a trip to the Himalayas…And I got down to think what I would take on such a trip to remind myself of my family.

I thought about some of the gifts my dear has brought me over the years. I also thought of the creative gifts my kids have made me on several occasions like mother’s day or my birthday. I even considered taking a photograph. But eventually I realized that there would be nothing I need to carry along with the purpose of reminding myself of my family. Close my eyes and there they would be….

Physical objects are very good channels to facilitate recollections. Looking at a photograph taken on an exotic holiday immediately transports one to the place and the joy associated with the trip is relived. Holding a gift from a loved one brings back memories of the occasion on which the gift was given. The occasion is again played in front of the mind’s eyes.

But these memories are not limited to the objects only.

Wherever I am, wherever I will be, my family always stay with me, in my heart, my mind and my being…

 [This post is written as part of the Daily prompt – An ounce of home]

I usually write reflections on daily experiences in order to learn from them. But today’s attempt in response to the daily prompt ‘Rare medium‘ is something different as suggested in the prompt.

I get up earlier than my kids,

Some yoga to freshen my mind,

Before I get on with daily deeds,

And a to-do list with no end.

 

Cooking and cleaning are part of life,

Taking care of family gives me joy,

Just as reading and writing for myself,

Also running after kids foiling their ploy.

 

Swim, gym or walk around the block,

Dinner and some TV in order,

Time for kids to bed along with their flock,

Some contemplation before sleep later.

 

Days are short and nights even shorter,

Life passes with such speed,

Everyday an effort to make myself better,

Thankful for being given all I need.