A Mother’s Day meditation

It’s Mother’s Day weekend, and while we languish in wave three of the perma-demic – I seek solace – inspiration – wisdom.

I attempt a Mother’s Day pandemic meditation.

It’s early and the sun is just over the horizon. I sit alone in my office – crossed-legged, in search of inner peace.

Sue walks in. “What are you up to?” she asks.

I open one eye. “I’m meditating. Trying to empty my head of all thought.”

“And you’re finding this a challenge?” she says with raised eyebrow.

My ability to focus (never a strength to begin with) is, sadly, more hampered than usual.

After a while, I give up fighting the anti-Zen voices in my head – and I give in.

Much to my surprise, the voice (there is only one after all) turns out to be that of my mother. Caught in my mind’s perpetual spin cycle is a collection of her phrases from my childhood.

Her pearls become the focus of my reflection. I discover their hidden meanings and hope they guide me through what remains of our pandemic ordeal.

“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on tight!”

Mother used this zinger in the mad morning rush when the clock was ticking and mittens, school bag or some other paraphernalia was misplaced. My new interpretation of this modern-day Upanishad is all about letting go and unscrewing my head. It wouldn’t hurt to lose my noggin once in a while. Perhaps an un-tightened head is a carefree head.

“Takes two to tango!”

When I was young, the logic of this phrase eluded me. As we sat apart from one another watching Gilligan’s Island, my devious little sister was fond of high-pitched, spontaneous wailing. Mother would poke her head in, dispense instant justice, and use this handy alliteration in response to my pleas of innocence. Going forward this gem will keep me mindful to not place upon my shoulders the negative energy of others yearning for a fight. (Unless, of course, it’s my sister… then it’s payback time.)

“Shit don’t stink if you leave it alone!”

In more civilized times – when children were banished to an unsupervised basement to play with sharp objects and hide behind oil furnaces – my mother expressed this proverb to any fool suggesting a descent into the underworld to check up on the kidlets. Her ancient wisdom compares so favourably to the omnipresent child-kings of today who intermingle in our adult world, causing mayhem and risking cocktail spills. These words will be my motto for avoiding political discourse (if you want to call it that) on platforms incapable of supporting genuine dialogue. Perhaps it’s called social media because it’s best used for keeping in touch, posting happy pictures, and building connections based upon our shared humanity.

“If you had a brain it’d rattle / If you had a thought, it’d be lonely!”

Mother expressed these interchangeably when faced with my youthful bone-headedness. Their brilliance long remained hidden to me. I am now working on variations for my meditation chant. A single lonely thought would represent transcendent improvement on the boisterous traffic jam that usually occupies my mind and if I ever get my brain to rattle, I will have finally become a veritable Bodhisattva – guiding others towards enlightenment.

“You’ve got two speeds – slow and stop!”

You can imagine with my penchant for distraction and limited motor control that my mother could go apeshit waiting for me to tie my shoes. My post-pandemic goal is to consciously choose either of these paces for each human interaction. Thanks to rapid-fire thoughts about what’s coming next or where I need to be, I am often less than fully present.

I will try to slow it down – or even stop it – so that each engagement is total, and each moment an expression of gratitude.

 Thanks Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day!