Buddhism in Babyland

I never would have guessed that having a baby would deepen my practice. You hear a lot about fragmented days, fatigue (which has lifted, mostly), stress (SUCH an over-used word), none of which are particularly good for a concentration practice. But no one tells you that having a baby can lock you so firmly in the present.

If you know me (and you do), I'm the great planner, anticipator, general foresee-er. Always churning away on some vision of what's to come. Hell, I made a good bit of money teaching people HOW to plan. Jeeeesh. No wonder I quit. It just didn't hold with my (ever) evolving world view.

This, however, is profoundly different. While I can still churn away with the best of them, Jimmy-in-the-future is a beautiful blank white space where my mind just can't go.

I realized it for the first time when he was about three months old. Amnat said to me that he couldn't wait until Jimmy would be big enough to walk between us, holding both our hands. I was struck dumb. At a loss. No mental picture of what Amnat could apparently see.

I was reminded of it again this week. Nok was playing with Jimmy, and he was laughing. Not grinning. Not baby-squealing. Not that weird inhaling-laugh thing that they do. Full, throaty, expressive laughing. For the first time, we could hear a hint of his VOICE. And, I realized (yes, realized), some day he's going to speak. At a loss.

And, that's fundamentally it. It's fear of loss that keeps me here, today, this day only. The Buddha taught that to love is to suffer. Well, a few of us Westerners think the word "suffer" is a bit of a mis-translation. Overstatement, for sure. To love is great, right? What's all this suffering they go on and on about?

But, I understand now like I've never understood before that to love is to suffer. And, nothing will break your heart like loving your own child.