"Conception, gestation, labor and delivery are the physical metaphor for how the divine comes into physical form. And so, there is really no more sacred ritual than human labor and delivery. And if we are going to change what happens around it, we need to see it for the sacred ceremony that it really is.

The woman giving birth needs to be treated as the very special being that she is, for the future of humanity to be something better than is has been. The seeds of violence, I believe, are sown right in the delivery room."

—Dr. Christiane Northrup, obstetrician, from the video Giving Birth: Challenges & Choices

Someone should have warned me. I severely underestimated motherhood. The day my daughter was born, my heart shattered open and I became so compassionate that I couldn’t bear to see a dead squirrel, let alone watch the news. Meanwhile, a fierceness awoke inside of me. I furiously pounded my car horn when a driver “endangered my child”. And I became so protective of my precious cargo that even green minivans passed me on the freeway.

My pregnancy and resulting parenthood were a constant healing session. Every toxic thought and any unclear area in my life was illuminated, (read, “floodlight”), and let’s just say it wasn’t always pretty. But, Life pushes life, and with parenting, especially in the first few months, all “escapes” are closed - reading; drinking; television; exercise; eating, (well, there’s a bit of that); shopping; sex; work; the subtle and nefarious escape of self-occupation and of course, no sleeping. It’s a “wonderful opportunity” to discover just what was hidden under those behaviors.

Much like taking monastic vows of poverty, communalism, service, chastity, cold five-minute meals, and wearing the same clothes day after day, parenting can automatically hurl one out of comfortable habits and routines and create more awareness.

Many nights, as I carved a path in the carpet waiting for the sun so I knew I’d made it through another day, I thought of the ancient Sumerian myth, The Descent of Innana,  and how Innana went through seven doors to get to the underworld. At each door, she shed something – her crown, her jewels, clothes, (one door had to have been sleep), and other various facets of her ego and identity, until she reached the underworld utterly naked. The only thing that helped Innana when she was stuck in the underworld rotting on a meat hook was little beings who were compassionate toward her grieving, crazed “sister” (her shadow self (postpartum in my imaginings)). These little beings didn’t offer advice about healthy sleep habits or swaddling, they mimicked in body, emotion and spirit the sobbing, the rocking, the anguish that the “sister” was experiencing.

This ultimately did the trick and Innana was released to the upper world again, passing through the seven gates and choosing at each gate what she wanted to take back of her previous identity. The breaking down of how we identify ourselves is one of the greatest spiritual gifts of parenting, and automatically increase our capacity for love.

My daughter teaches me to see the world differently. Shadows for example. Or how noisy a grocery bag can be. Ceiling fans can be mesmerizing, and wood grains are a source of endless fascination. No drugs needed. Everything and anything becomes a play object. Proof that boredom is decidedly the decision of the beholder. 

As I mentioned, there are no escapes. There’s no quitting in parenting, although there’s plenty of crying. I see our daughter as a little Buddha who can put her finger on places where I’m resistant to change or thinking narrowly. I can either lose my mind and my authenticity in the process of reacting, or I can use it as the perfect opportunity to grow and nourish my child by attending to what is deepest and best in her, and therefore in myself.

Here’s where the rubber hits the road - how do I apply all this stuff when so many common parenting practices are inherently disrespectful – tickling, “stimulating” toys, lulling her into a trance with a swing or a vibrating chair, for example, or imposing my timeline, habits and agenda on her?

At first, I was reading advice, not trusting my instincts, in search of the magic bullet. I was trying to “do it right”, ever-vigilant, and worried that I would screw her up somehow. As a result, I was exhausted and nothing worked.

I wanted to allow my daughter to develop at her own path and pace. This meant, above all, being respectful. For example, instead of imposing a curricula or trying to get her to walk before her first birthday, I just trust and allow her to discover in her own way on her timeline. It’s simultaneously harder and easier to parent this way.

Half the work of parenting consciously is being aware of old patterns that rule our behavior as parents, remembering that they come from deep wounds in our past, and that they don’t have anything to do with what’s really happening in the moment. What I’ve realized is that the greatest gift that I can give my child is myself. This means that part of my work as a parent is to keep growing in self-knowledge and in awareness. I have learned that, as parents, we have to be grounded in the present moment to share what is deepest and best in ourselves.