Finding Meaning in Our Lived Experience

Finding Meaning in Our Lived Experience
by Maureen Dufour

"Every period of life has its own task and its own meaning."
Joan Chittister

Spirituality is about finding meaning in our lived experience. As parents, educators and caregivers of young children, we need to live the moments that our children call us to, as they marvel at the wonder of life around them.

I am a wife, the mother of two young girls ages nine and 11, and an occasional teacher in the elementary panel. I also work, part-time, as the volunteer coordinator at Tapestry House, a place dedicated to the care, support and empowerment of caregivers of all kinds. Its purpose is to promote education among the participants in the best practices of self-care, according to each person's needs, in order that all may return to their communities better able to serve as caregivers.

Having lived through the experience of 11 years of motherhood, I know how important it is to take care of myself physically, emotionally and spiritually in order to give my daughters the best care possible. It is easy to verbalize this in retrospect, although I know I found it difficult to live out in the midst of those busy days of new motherhood.

At that time in my life, nurturing my spirit included giving myself permission to grieve the letting go of my teaching position. I had resigned my position with the school board in order to stay at home full-time with my little girl. While I marvelled at the gift of this precious new life, I struggled with her care as she had colic for the first three months of her life. Sleep was hard to come by and I had no interest in cooking in the few minutes I had to myself. I lived with the self-doubt that comes from not being able to ease my daughter's pain, not knowing what she needed and not being able to stop her crying.

If not for the help of friends who had already experienced the joys and struggles of new motherhood, and a loving supportive husband, I doubt I would have made it! Community became important in a whole new way for me, and I knew the wisdom of the proverb, "It takes a village to raise a child." At the suggestion of friends, I joined several play groups while Laura was still an infant. There, I learned the power of listening as others shared the stories of their lives. I educated myself by attending family conferences, listening to inspirational speakers and reading everything I could find on parenting.

Eventually the colic eased and I was better able to appreciate the gift of this little being in my life. I spent time in reflection and meditation every morning in order to nurture my spirit. While nursing Laura and rocking her, I rewarded myself by reading, a passion of mine. I read books about the spirituality of motherhood and other books for pure enjoyment. I kept a journal for myself and one for my daughter, a treasure we still look back on today. When she went down for her short naps, I napped with her or did something special for myself. I took friends up on their offers to walk her and learned in a whole new way, the wisdom of Kahlil Gibran's words, "Let there be spaces in your togetherness." I loved her with my whole heart, but I knew that I needed to take care of myself as well, and sometimes that meant separating myself from her.

As mothers and caregivers, we tend to think that we can do it all: keep the house spotless, cook healthy, nutritious meals, keep up with mounds of laundry, care for our families, play with our children and manage a job. Is it any wonder we burn ourselves out? Perhaps the hardest thing I had to let go of was the image I carried of myself as the perfect mother and housekeeper. Entertaining still causes me a great deal of stress because I always worry about what people will think of my messy house. But what is more important: keeping the house dust-free or allowing the free spirits of my children to entice me to play?

When I crawled into my daughter's world, I too could marvel at the wonders of nature, the flight of a butterfly, the journey of an insect, the thrill of building sand castles and the freedom of flying high on a swing. I absorbed her fascination with the texture and taste of food, the feel of a brisk wind that stole her breath, and tried to understand her fear of water. I rejoiced in her communication skills, laughing at her discovery of words and how they felt and sounded as she uttered them. I celebrated her growing independence, her mischievousness and her enthusiasm for living in the moment. If only I could re-create those moments today as I rush through the tasks of this stage of my life.

As I look back on those days, I am struck anew by the lessons my children have taught me about caring for my spirit. When they were very little and nursing, their demands helped me say, "No," to other requests for my attention. They kept me focused on the present, calling me to an awareness of the presence of the spirit in all of nature. Their love of the outdoors, their energy and vitality insisted that I keep up; exercise was built right into each day. Their uninhibited joy of relationships ensured that we were surrounded by friends and family.

Their bodies' needs for sleep and nutritious food kept my body healthy as well. Their delight in crafts and in play nurtured my creativity and imagination. I formed new hobbies as a result of that time and I continue to develop my creativity in various ways. My children's love of stories has captivated me and I have become a collector of children's story books and a seeker of the stories of life. When anxiety and stress threaten to take over, I remember to breathe, and to pause in wonder and thanksgiving for the gift my family is to me.

Yes, our children give us "wake-up calls" everyday. It is our responsibility to be attentive enough to recognize them and wise enough to respond to them. I would like to close with these words of wisdom from my 4-year-old neighbour. When her mother suggested she come outside to help with the weeding of the garden, her response was, "Can't we just go out and enjoy the garden?"

Enjoy your garden!

Maureen Dufour is co-coordinator at Tapestry House, a place of respite, education and caring, dedicated to empowering those who care for others. To learn more about Tapestry House: 271 Stewart Street, Ottawa, Ontario, K1N 6K3; phone (613) 562-9628; email: tapestry_house@hotmail.com; website www.tapestryhouse.ca.

Interaction, Vol. 16, No. 3, Fall 2002, p. 32-33.