Zen Mama, Zen Baby

This weekend, the Papa and I watched How to Cook Your Life, an endearing documentary about a zen monk chef in the Bay Area. It’s a slow, entertaining and totally inspiring little film – no frills or action – and it’s exactly what I’ve been craving.

The pack-a-punch bit of wisdom I took away from the film was this advice: when you chop carrots, chop carrots. When you peel the potatoes, peel the potatoes…. And so on. Be. Here. Now. Simple, right? Obvious, right?

Not really.

So I took this zen tidbit to heart since I've been thinking about being in the moment a lot lately. I’ve also been reading Everyday Blessings which is proving to be a great philosophical read about the value we place on mindful parenting and how to be a more conscious and present parent to an ever-changing and dynamic little bean. And let's face it, this world we live in can be pretty stinkin' crazed at times. So yeah, the zen message of being present in every moment, even the mundane moments that can seem so numbingly tedious after a long day, is appealing to my often frenetic self.

After mulling over the whole “Peel the carrots” mode, I was able to pull off a pretty darn zen meal prep yesterday morning. Stella and I enjoyed a lovely and peaceful breakfast of yogurt and blueberries. She sat on the counter as I thoughtfully and quietly prepared our meal, and I focused on the now, repeating silly words like “yogurt for my babe, yogurt for my babe.” It felt a bit goofy, but it also felt kinda good.

The Papa handled lunch while I took a much needed break, so I was actually quite eager to try again for dinner. Again, Stella happily took her spot on the counter and munched on a bowl of grapes. Good stuff. I made it through the garlic – “Chopping garlic. Chopping garlic.” – and then was started the veggie sauté – “Gorgeous greens. Gorgeous greens.”

And then, suddenly and harshly, the reality of everyone else’s now took over. Stella suddenly became ravenous and surly, a small army of ants descended upon our kitchen (right below my feet) and the phone rang clamorously.

Hmmm. So much for zen.

I know this sounds silly, but I felt kind of defeated. I really wanted this to work. But, as always, I’d applied my perfectionist focus and determination on even the most zen of tasks. The Papa could tell I was bummed and helped me chuckle about it, and we teamed up to simply deliver calories to hungry bellies.

And then we really started chuckling because Stella stole the show (once again) by essentially becoming a little zen Buddha incarnate. Like countless other 22 month olds, she felt the need to repeat everything she said and felt about five zillion times as we sat around the dinner table. “Beans. Beans. Beans. Beans. Beans. Beans. Beans.” “Cool down.” “Cool down.” “Cool down.” “Cool down.” “Cool down.” “Cool down.” “Cool down.” “Yummy.” “Yummy.” “Yummy.” “Yummy.” “Yummy.” “Yummy.”

In the moment indeed.

I suppose the lesson here is that being in the now means allowing for our previous notions of now to explode into a million little disorganized pieces of chaos. And it means that any notion we may have of controlling the moment is utterly and ridiculously laughable. And, of course, I’m now very aware of the teaching Stella has to offer me as she is most definitely the most centered and live-in-the-moment person I’ve ever encountered. So I still think this practice of being more present as I tackle the seemingly tedious tasks of motherhood is a good one. Because as I’ve heard nearly every parent say, this whole kid gig moves way too fast. And I would hate to miss out on some of the joys just because I failed to see the beauty of what it means to steam carrots for Stella or fold her unimaginably cute pants atop a massive pile of laundry.

All this reminds me of an interview I once saw with a mom who said she nearly lost her mind with the mundane tasks of running a house – laundry, dishes, cooking, grocery shopping, etc. She was educated and worldly and found herself totally perplexed as to how she ended up living as an unpaid scullery maid in her own home. But she found salvation one day realizing the very simple but powerful truth that sometimes folding your child’s laundry or shopping for fresh veggies for the week is really just another way of saying “I love you.” Sure, reading to your kid, playing make-believe or literally cuddling in the wee hours of the morning are all more glamorous forms of adoration and affection. But it all adds up to a bigger picture. And whether we like it or not, sweeping up those endless messes or chopping up veggies that might end up on the floor of the car contributes to a family’s sense of well-being and stability.

So I’m going to keep at it, this Zen Mama thing. I think I’ll dial it back a bit to loosen the reigns on my acutely honed I-have-to-do-it-well-to-make-it-worthwhile instinct. But I feel like I’m actually at a place in my life where I’m ready to feel the now. Maybe it’s because I’m not willing to chug along this motherhood path with a bad attitude. Or maybe it’s because I’m more open than I've ever been to the notion of a spiritual life. Or maybe – and I have a hunch this is the key – it’s because my now is more sweet and delicious than it’s ever been.