But the Buddha Didn't Raise Children

Martin F. Luthke, Linda Stein-Luthke

Description

Have you ever wondered how many of the spiritual masters and enlightened teachers have been parents? What have you learned from them about parenting? Are parenting and spiritual growth two separate paths? What can we learn from the spiritual teachings? And what can we learn from parenting?

Having been a mother for over forty years, and on the path of spiritual growth for many decades, the author offers us a personal account of her insights that bridge the daily realities of parenthood and the lofty teachings of the masters.

Written with levity, honesty, and depth, this book can offer parents and seekers some guidance on how to better cope with the challenges of parenting while nurturing one's spiritual growth.

Sujets

• Philosophie
• Philosophie de la religion
• Santé et bien-être
• Développement personnel
• Vie de famille
• Parentalité et Éducation des Enfants
• développement personnel
• Personal Growth
• Self-help
• Parentalité
• Parentalité
• Parentalité

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 24 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780990502401
• Langue: English

Extrait

But the Buddha Didn’t Raise Children
 
Linda Stein-Luthke
Martin F. Luthke, Ph.D.
Copyright © 2014 by Linda Stein-Luthke & Martin F. Luthke
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-0-9905-0240-1
 
 
Converted by www.eBookIt.com
 
 
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, including photo-copying, or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the authors, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
 
 
Published in eBook format by
Expansion Publishing
11872 Chillicothe Rd. - Chesterland, OH 44026
USA

 
To our children Zack, Todd, Evan and Anya, our best teachers.
Foreword
The Middle Path
Prince Siddhartha, the Buddha who founded the Buddhist religion, was not the first Buddha. Hinduism refers to “the Buddhi within” as a core of Light that one must seek in order to attain enlightenment. Hinduism had existed for approximately two thousand five hundred years prior to the birth of Prince Siddhartha, who would ultimately become the Buddha who showed us “the middle path” to enlightenment.
 
As a young man, Siddhartha was not interested at all in enlightenment. He was to inherit a wealthy kingdom in northern India. Born the only son of a doting father, he was raised by caring servants since his mother had died shortly after his birth. His life was filled with beauty, music, abundance of every kind and loving people. His father made sure that he was totally protected from the harshness of the outside world.
 
But after becoming the father of a young son, the prince became curious to finally learn about the rest of the world. Early one morning, while everyone was still sleeping, Siddhartha escaped the palace guards and ventured into the streets of the city with his favorite servant by his side. There he saw death, sickness, and poverty. He asked his servant how such things could be. His servant told him this was the way most people lived.
 
Siddhartha was stunned by the suffering he witnessed and returned to the palace where all the discomfort of life had been banished. He knew he could no longer live in the palace. He must find an answer to the suffering he had seen. After kissing his sleeping wife and child, he left his home, never to return. His journey to awakening had begun.
 
Outside the city walls, he encountered a group of Hindu ascetics sitting in meditation in the countryside. They were unwashed, starving, and many distorted their bodies or harmed themselves in other ways in order to meditate above and beyond all physical discomfort. In this way they hoped to achieve ultimate enlightenment by transcending suffering. Siddhartha eagerly joined them, convinced he could find the answer that could alleviate all suffering in the world.
 
After many months -- and some sources say it was years -- of practicing this form of meditation, he underwent an amazing realization. The legends vary, but the one I've liked the best is he chose to go bathe in the river and clean his body. After his bath a young maiden came by and offered him a bowl of rice which he happily ate.
 
Siddhartha returned to the ascetics and said he'd decided to try a new path to enlightenment. This path would involve caring for his body while he meditated since it was part of creation and deserved to be cared for. The other ascetics thought this idea was blasphemous. So, he went alone to sit under a nearby Bodhi tree. Some say the tree still exists and many come to worship there.
 
Within a certain amount of time the spirit of Mara came to him. Mara offered him all forms of temptation and then frightened him in every way possible. But still Siddhartha sat. He sat until he'd conquered all fears and temptations through deep meditation. He had become a Buddha.
 
Siddhartha went back to the ascetics and said he'd found “the middle path” to awakening. He invited them to join him in sharing this good news. Suffering could cease. Enlightenment was possible. Some of the ascetics joined him and became his first disciples.
 
My husband, Martin and I have been to Sarnath in northern India, which is the site of the first Buddhist Temple, convent, and monastery. This is where the Buddha first preached the dharma, his message of enlightenment, to his disciples.
 
The place is filled with peace and beauty. Sarnath is where I finally knew deep inside me that Buddhism was a teaching that I could follow. It all begins within as we sit, release our fears and need to suffer, and open to our Light. It can be a place of beginning for each one of us, if we allow.
 
== ::: ==
Introduction
My Parenting Journey
Here's a quote from the Buddha: “As a mother would risk her life to protect her child, her only child, even so should one cultivate a limitless heart with regard to all beings.”
 
This is a lovely sentiment. And the world would be a lovely place if we all lived by these wise words. The Buddha believed that motherhood was an exalted position in the order of life. How could he not? Without mothers, where would we be? We wouldn't.
 
Mothers must nurture and care for their young, or the species would cease to exist. We love to observe the care that other species give their young, whether guided by instinct or training. As humans, how do we learn to do this well, if instinct is not enough of a guide?
 
The Buddha exalts motherhood but apparently does not see it as in need of guidance. Mothers are to be the example to guide the rest of humanity.
 
But that can be a tricky business when we aren't having our best day as mothers. Who were our teachers to show us the way? And our mothers or other family members may not always have been the best example to guide us on that journey.
 
I came to the task of mothering -- as so many young girls have -- when a sibling was born and then handed to me to care for. One of my sisters was in college and the other would be leaving home soon for college as well. I was thirteen when my brother was born and I had to step up to the plate.
 
My mother was already ill with an undiagnosed ailment. Cancer would ultimately take her life a few months after my seventeenth birthday. Because of my mother's illness and death, my high school years and my first year of college were very different than those of my friends. Unlike my peers, I had to consider a young child’s needs before my own.
 
This can be excellent training for any self-absorbed teenager, but as I watched my friends enjoy a far more carefree existence, I wondered if I'd been handed a raw deal by life.
 
Thus, having a baby on my hip started early for me. Sleepless nights became a constant factor the summer after my brother was born. My sisters were both home to help, and we took turns getting up at night to feed the baby. But even on the nights it wasn't my turn, I'd wake to my brother's cry, gather my blankets and begin rocking them before I'd realize I could sleep after all.
 
My teenage life revolved around diaper changes and feeding times. And only when there was a free moment, I could be with my friends. It felt like a strenuous introduction to child rearing. I’ve since understood that the first months of motherhood are strenuous for all mothers!
 
We were taught in our home to be loving and gentle and adore the baby. This was good training. I did enjoy caring for him. I began to believe that life really was not meaningful unless you had someone else to care for. This is a theme that has reverberated throughout my life.
 
I've come to believe that the child who initially was a burden for me was actually a great blessing. He helped me learn how to be a giving, caring person before I was mature enough to know how important this attribute can be.
 
The moment I met the man I was going to marry, the first thought that came to me was that he would be the father of my sons. And he was. By twenty four, I'd had my first son, Zack. By twenty nine, Todd was born. By thirty, I was a single mom.
 
As we negotiated the divorce, my husband offered to take the boys. I refused. My children gave meaning to my life. They kept me going. I had to feed them, care for them, house them, and nurture them. My parents had died by then, so the job was mine without support from anyone else. I was on my own. And I did it all.
 
After a few years of single parenting, I remarried. My second husband was a wonderful support. He was my step-brother whom I had known since my dad remarried when I was eighteen. He is a good man and a good dad. We married when Todd was four and Zack was eight. We also eventually chose to foster-parent a son and an infant daughter.
 
Parenting was in my blood. I had a full life outside of parenting, however. In addition to my work career, I began my journey to awakening around the age of thirty. I felt compelled to find out what else there was to life. I thought this could help me be a better mother to my sons.
 
I do believe that the knowledge I've learned over the years “on the path” has helped me be a better person and therefore a better mother. But the information came from inference. The teachings I received did not give any direct guidance as to how to be a mother. This subject was never addressed. Never.
 
I didn't even think to ask. It was just assumed that what I was learning was for me alone, not for me and my children.
 
After my second marriage ended, and my children had moved away from home, I had a period without children in my life. After some time of mourning over the loss of my marriage, family home, and children, I remarried.
 
Thus began a fruitful period for me that took me in a whole new direction. My third husband, Martin, and I were growing into awakened awareness in the Light. Our body of work, including the many books we wrote together with the help of the Beings of Light fulfilled many of our creative desires. But still, we yearned to have a child o