"But he could fall!" as he holds Mica's hands while Mica walks along a three-inch wide (and five-inch high) strip of concrete.
"But he's going under the water!" as Mica jumps into Rom's arms in the pool, completely submerging his face and coming up laughing.
"But he could poke himself in the eye" as Mica draws on the paper with a pen.
Me, to Rom:
"You don't think he needs a life-jacket?" as I eye the cold, dark, fathomless Pacific ocean and imagine Mica's tiny body lost forever in our wake.
"Maybe you should hold him..." as I eye the cold, dark, fathomless Pacific ocean hundreds of feet below our seaplane, separated only by a door that isn't even locked. I am sitting next to the door. Rom is not.
"Can you put him down?" as Rom rests Mica on the top of the protective fence at the end of the dock at the Ballard Locks while I mentally prepare to shed my backpack and shoes to dive in after him.
+ + +
It's clear that Rom finds danger in the everyday and I find danger in the tragically improbable.
I mean, seriously, who cares about water on the face, a hurt eye, a bonked head?
But to drown while whale watching? To drop your own child out of an airplane? To send them over the protective fence into the dark depths?
I know, I know. I'm being a little bit obsessive. But I can't help it. All these situations have happened in the last week and each time I experience of surge of utter panic and despair. I get a floaty shaky feeling inside my chest, I start seeing the tragedy over and over — to lose a child!
+ + +
Thus, I have been sitting with fear, safety, chance, love, the will to live, the will to protect the life of one's children; the improbability and the inevitability of loss.
A gatha is form of meditative poetry in Buddhism that captures your feelings and intentions for practice. Here is one I've written.
Gatha for the child, Gatha for the parent
While I hold my children in my arms,
I vow with all Beings
to acknowledge that life contains loss
and to hold that loss, and the people who are living it, in my heart.
Love,
Stacy
* May all children be safe. *
* May all parents know infinite love. *
* May all beings be well. *
* May all parents know infinite love. *
* May all beings be well. *
I'm more like you. I get nervous whenever we're around water, I can just picture them drowning. I can find danger around every corner. But I can't dwell on it, because I could really stay caught up in those fearful thoughts. I don't want to project my fears to them.
ReplyDeleteI hate it when panic emerges like that. I remember walking along the Columbia River with my kids when they were really little and becoming petrified one of them would fall in.
ReplyDelete(I'm not the greatest swimmer of all time, which didn't help.)
I loved the gatha.
My husband and his Mom can find danger in ANYTHING. I am not kidding. Even a piece of paper.
ReplyDeleteI am way more relaxed about what the kids play with or are around then hubby.
I loved the gatha as well... I used to be really panicky like that. For me to move through the fear, it took a very gradual yet persistent letting go and thought "massage".
ReplyDeleteI didn't want my children to get hurt - and that sometimes meant not getting very far from me - at all. I think that's relatively natural for many mothers, but it can be uncomfortable.
Then I started to recall that my children are not "mine" and I began playing out survivalist techniques in my mind. More calmly as time progressed...
A big part for me was trusting that I would and could take whatever measures humanly possible to assist my child if need be... coupled with the whole aspect of my child being taken care of on a spiritual level. :o)
We just got a new bed and I hate it when the cats sit beneath it because I'm terrified that the damned thing is just going to collapse someday. Same with the futon in the living room. Whenever I find something small and possibly throat-sized on the floor (usually thanks to my husband's carelessness) I can't help but imagine all the horrible things that could have happened if the cats had reached it first.
ReplyDeleteI can't even imagine what it's going to be like when I finally have a child.
My husband and I are both equally paranoid. We're a great match!
ReplyDeleteI know that feeling. Great poem.
ReplyDeleteI *love* that gatha. It's perfect.
ReplyDeleteI close my eyes and breeeeeathe. LOL
thank you! my dh and I have precisely this dynamic, but I've never been able to articulate the difference until now.
ReplyDeletebreathing does help.