Showing posts with label my mental health toolbox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my mental health toolbox. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Hakuna Matata or: meditating with my five-year-old daughter

 Scene: It is a Saturday afternoon, and I am feeling a bit off. I decide that a guided meditation would help me get centered and think more clearly. So, I go into my bedroom, sit down, and choose a track on my Calm app (I have a subscription and it’s worth every penny, but I digress) 

I forgot to close the door, and as we all know, Mom sitting quietly is an invitation for questioning. My five-year-old (called Ladybug here) is no exception.


Ladybug walks up to me and asks, “Mommy, what are you doing?” 


In between deep breaths and trying to keep myself centered, I try to explain the concept of meditation to her. 


Me: “Mommy is taking deep breaths and slowing down.”


Ladybug: “Why are you taking deep breaths and slowing down?”


Me: “It’s to help me be calm.”


Ladybug: “Why to help you be calm, Mommy?”


Me: “So I can be a better mommy.”


I take more deep breaths while listening to the speaker’s instructions.


Ladybug: “Why be a better mommy, Mommy?”


I have to chuckle. I know I’m my own worst critic, though apparently my self-criticism tends to be more extreme than the average person's (working on that in therapy). I’ve made lots of mistakes as a parent and I try to own up to as many of them as possible. Somehow, my girls still think I’m doing okay, at least most of the time.


Ladybug climbs into my lap and rests her head on my chest. I feel her soft hair under my chin, and smile with contentment, thinking this is how the rest of my meditation will go. But as quickly as she gets on my lap, she hops off in search of a Rice Krispie treat. They’re in the pantry, easily within her reach (yes on purpose; don’t judge me)


“I’ll be right back!” she declares while running down the hall. Indeed, she does come back, and wants me to unwrap her chosen snack. I do this, again, with my eyes still closed. She climbs back onto my lap, snuggles back into my chest while eating her snack. I wrap my arms around her and rest my cheek on her hair, while still listening to my meditation which is aptly titled “Hakuna Matata”. 


This entire scene unfolds in less than ten minutes.