“The aim is to balance the terror of being alive with the wonder of being alive.” – Carlos Castaneda
Life is terrifying. There are so many things that can go wrong with us and our kids... and often do. It's a small wonder we aren't all on drugs. Oh wait, maybe we are! The explosion of anti-depressants and tranquilisers didn't come out of nowhere. If we have any measure of intelligence we'll see how fragile we are and that ultimately we have to die. And our children have to die. Maybe the only people seeing things clearly are the ones with what we call ‘mental health problems’. We all have a mental health problem called ‘extreme denial to cope with the truth’.
We're all going to die.
Life is terrifying. There are so many things that can go wrong with us and our kids... and often do. It's a small wonder we aren't all on drugs. Oh wait, maybe we are! The explosion of anti-depressants and tranquilisers didn't come out of nowhere. If we have any measure of intelligence we'll see how fragile we are and that ultimately we have to die. And our children have to die. Maybe the only people seeing things clearly are the ones with what we call ‘mental health problems’. We all have a mental health problem called ‘extreme denial to cope with the truth’.
We're all going to die.
Oh Mia, how much more dramatic and morbid can you get?
Don't indulge me.
The truth is, I love life. I am far from being a pessimist. But I am a realist. And I do have my moments where I wake in the night with death anxiety.
I think it's important to discuss the dark side, instead of trying to cover it up with our legal drugs and pretend we're all ok with it. You look around and it appears that everyone else is alright and not terrified, so you think it must be just you. And then you join in the drug party and try to forget.
If we were all honest about it and opened up the conversation we could work our way through it. We're stronger than we think, and capable of finding the balance between the wonder and the terror. If we deny the terror we also curb our ability for wonder. As Jung said, “No tree can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell”.
Parenting is terrifying. Your children are going to die. So are you. Maybe not now but sometime. Facing this fact allows you a greater appreciation of now. When we know someone is dying we savour our time with them. We see them. We listen properly. We do our best to understand. We don't brush them off. We don't scold them for things that really don't matter in the greater scheme of life and death.
We’re trying so hard to get rid of half of life – we want health without sickness, joy without despair, wealth without poverty, life without death. But every one of these is a valid experience and relies on its opposite to exist. What is life if not a constant succession of moments of experience?
It is all beautiful when seen through the eyes of transience. It isn’t going to last. You are not going to last. Neither are your children. So what, then, is important? We can throw our hands up in futility or we can embrace the only thing we ever had for sure – this moment. It is the very fact that it won’t last that makes it incredible. It will never again repeat. You cannot hang onto it, but you can immerse yourself in it and appreciate everything about it.
Appreciate everything about this fleeting moment with your children. See them, embrace them, marvel at them, love them. You don’t know that you have another moment with them, but you do know that you have this one.
Half of your life will be suffering. There is no escaping half of life. No matter how many pills we pop there will still be death and sick children and fear and financial uncertainty and tantrums and heartache. That’s ok. If you try to escape that by numbing yourself to the terror, you will also numb yourself to the incredible heights of wonder, joy and beauty that come from being aware of your existence. Aware of your child’s existence.
That terror of understanding our own and our children’s mortality contains within it the very tools needed for transcending it. It is the very fact of death that allows us to parent properly. Knowing that this isn’t going to last gives us perspective, it deepens appreciation, it focuses our minds on gratitude. Let that fear be your guiding light to not waste this moment. This precious moment with your children. This fleeting, elusive, snippet of life. Be here. With your child. Right now. And be in awe.
Don't indulge me.
The truth is, I love life. I am far from being a pessimist. But I am a realist. And I do have my moments where I wake in the night with death anxiety.
I think it's important to discuss the dark side, instead of trying to cover it up with our legal drugs and pretend we're all ok with it. You look around and it appears that everyone else is alright and not terrified, so you think it must be just you. And then you join in the drug party and try to forget.
If we were all honest about it and opened up the conversation we could work our way through it. We're stronger than we think, and capable of finding the balance between the wonder and the terror. If we deny the terror we also curb our ability for wonder. As Jung said, “No tree can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell”.
Parenting is terrifying. Your children are going to die. So are you. Maybe not now but sometime. Facing this fact allows you a greater appreciation of now. When we know someone is dying we savour our time with them. We see them. We listen properly. We do our best to understand. We don't brush them off. We don't scold them for things that really don't matter in the greater scheme of life and death.
We’re trying so hard to get rid of half of life – we want health without sickness, joy without despair, wealth without poverty, life without death. But every one of these is a valid experience and relies on its opposite to exist. What is life if not a constant succession of moments of experience?
It is all beautiful when seen through the eyes of transience. It isn’t going to last. You are not going to last. Neither are your children. So what, then, is important? We can throw our hands up in futility or we can embrace the only thing we ever had for sure – this moment. It is the very fact that it won’t last that makes it incredible. It will never again repeat. You cannot hang onto it, but you can immerse yourself in it and appreciate everything about it.
Appreciate everything about this fleeting moment with your children. See them, embrace them, marvel at them, love them. You don’t know that you have another moment with them, but you do know that you have this one.
Half of your life will be suffering. There is no escaping half of life. No matter how many pills we pop there will still be death and sick children and fear and financial uncertainty and tantrums and heartache. That’s ok. If you try to escape that by numbing yourself to the terror, you will also numb yourself to the incredible heights of wonder, joy and beauty that come from being aware of your existence. Aware of your child’s existence.
That terror of understanding our own and our children’s mortality contains within it the very tools needed for transcending it. It is the very fact of death that allows us to parent properly. Knowing that this isn’t going to last gives us perspective, it deepens appreciation, it focuses our minds on gratitude. Let that fear be your guiding light to not waste this moment. This precious moment with your children. This fleeting, elusive, snippet of life. Be here. With your child. Right now. And be in awe.
Death anxiety keeping you up at night? Want to know how to use mindfulness to get back into the moment with your kids? Give me a call!
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