“The deepest form of generosity is presence.” – Tara Brach
I don’t remember a moment from childhood where my mom hurried me. I’m sure there were moments – given how much my parents went through in their twenties, God, there had to have been moments. But what comes to mind when I think of my mother’s ways when I was a young child is how she was present.
She took the time to read to me, put French braids in my hair, pack my lunch (a practice she still will do today, 40 years later, if I am staying with them!), and sing to me at night to tuck me into bed. I remember her taking me to a park that I loved so I could climb and run. Just me and her.
And now as a mom just to two children, I think, “How did she do that?! How did she create the space for just the two of us to do something together?!” I remember her creating space for me to put on a record and dance in the family room. I remember my mom sitting with me and looking at the JCPenney catalogue where we’d order a new bedspread and curtains for me.
Most of all, I remember my mom looking at me with total devotion – as if only I mattered in that moment.
I have no visceral feeling of being rushed or hurried. I remember being seen and held in those moments of my mom sitting with me.
My mom would’ve had valid reasons to not be present, to hurry me. She was friends in high school with the gentleman who would later be our dad and she supported him through a tragic loss at the age of 18. All before the age of 30, she and my dad had four children, she nursed her mom through cancer and dying when she was 21 and pregnant with me, she lost her dad suddenly three years later and she had pneumonia so bad that one of her lungs had to be removed. This is all while my dad was in college full-time, studying for his CPA exam, and working full-time.
She would’ve had good reason to turn negative, to turn inward and think the world – including God – was against her. She could’ve closed off her heart, keeping all she could for herself. But she didn’t. In fact, I’d imagine her heart opened even wider – because that’s what I remember about my mom. Her heart was open, welcoming…and devoted. Yes, that’s what I remember about my childhood – her devotion – to us, to this world, and to the Divine.
Throughout my life, people have told me what a lovely person my mom is. She embodies a powerfully feminine way of being compassionate, focusing on what matters, and prayer. She has transformed suffering with a deep devotion to love.
That’s what suffering can do – if we choose. In every single moment there is a choice – to open, to surrender, to let go, to embrace what matters, and to let Grace pick us up off the floor and show how to heal by taking the next right step to choose love in this very moment. Suffering – the “everyday” kinds of suffering and the deeper, tragic sufferings – can sift out what so doesn’t matter. It can wake us up to how we are devoting our time, energy, thoughts, and heart. It can call forth a deep devotion to love.
And as we celebrated my mom’s birthday last week, I am reminded of how even today, her deep devotion to love is evident in everything she does. From how she carefully selects and cuts strawberries in bite sized pieces for my daughter, smiles so deeply at my son as he whips by us on his bike, and brings pistachios for my kiddos to have protein… to how she sends me a text reminding me of my goodness, the need to rest, how exquisite my poetry and eyes and presence are, and how my deep capacity for love flows into how I love my family and this world.
Because of such love, I, too, am living a life a deep devotion to love. I am letting go of any trying, pushing through, or “making happen,” and surrendering to Love.
Friends, there are many pressures on us to hurry and rush. I find that today, in this day and age, when someone is actually fully present with me, tears come to my eyes. Being so rushed, never being fully present is not how to live. This is not how we care and feel cared for. And while, yes, we “have to get things done,” can we look at our lives and say, “But do I have to do so much?!”
Together let’s look at what we are devoted to. I spent years devoted to “doing good” in this world – and getting really burned out. Over the years of being a mom, I see how, more and more, I am devoting myself to THIS moment.
THIS opportunity to pause and be present.
THIS look of love.
THIS car ride to school.
THIS high-five after soccer practice.
I surely don’t do it perfectly AT ALL. BUT my attention and intention is on living with a deep devotion to love. And loving in ways that are slow, nourishing, and tender. And I know that I am embodying such tenderness and devotion with every little choice of how I go about my day.
Today, ask yourself, three questions:
“What am I devoted to?”
“Where is my attention?”
“What is my intention?”
These questions get you FOCUSED. Are you devoted to checking your email on your smart phone every hour? Are you devoted to your own health and well-being? What about your attention – is it fretting about the future, lost in the past, noticing the negative in the present? Is it centered on WHAT MATTERS MOST? What’s your intention — for your life, for your day, for this very moment? HOW DO YOU WANT TO LIVE this very moment?
Choose to follow the deep devotion of your heart. Choose to put your attention on what matters most. Choose to align yourself with your heart’s deepest intention. This is how we live this very moment without regrets. This is how we make a lifetime of living so very intentional and devoted to love.
Blessings,
Another thoughtful, inspiring, beautiful post. Thanks, Lisa.
P.S. I think of you often and have been meaning to email you for ages. Maybe now that we’re finally done with lambing season. . . 🙂
Susan, I saw some of your pics of the lambs!!! You are livin’ the life, friend! We here have welcomed a little puppy into our home! Yes, let’s connect via email. Love to you, Susan. Lisa
What a beautiful devotioni to your mother! It is going to help me pause today when speaking to my children and give them my full attention! She is gorgeous and so are you!
Lovely, Jodi! I’m glad that this post spoke to you. Yes, my mom is a lovely person. I don’t write much about my extended family, but this post came to my heart so I shared. Love to you, Lisa
What a lovely woman who raised you. My upbringing was perhaps polar opposite, but the gift in that was that I made the time to really stop and listen to my boys, to sit on their beds one at a time and really talk, listen, laugh, ooh and ahhh over every art piece and Lego creation. I remember thinking ‘I will sit on my child’s bed especially because my mother never did. I will take the time because it hurt me that my mom was too busy or tired – so I will not repeat that pattern.’ I have fond memories of my mom from my adulthood, that she was a great cook and a fantastic card player, but she never really liked children. Thank you GOD that patterns can be changed, broken, newly created. We can craft the life we want. I am SO glad that you dear Lisa had a terrific headstart with your wonderful Mother. A strong courageous woman who turned suffering into devotion. And now you are continuing that beautiful blessing and adding your own light to it.
Blessings, Gina
Gina, you have made such a lovely, lovely life – for your own self and your family. It makes my heart gently cry hearing how you resolved to sit on the edge of your children’s beds b/c your mom didn’t. YOU broke that pattern. I know, too, from reading your posts that you have also traveled through the waters of forgiveness. There is a peace about you. (ha! Peace!!!!!). Yes, more and more I feel like I am embodying my mother – my own version of her – but she lives/moves through me and we are mystically connected. Love, Lisa
Ah sweet wise friend… thank you so much for this amazing reply. I worried about not being in my ‘highest light’ when writing this comment but your deep kindness sifted through and found the little pearl amongst it all. A beautiful life can be created from anything, but how much better it is to give young ones the best start possible. And you do! Much love and appreciation to you Lisa, xo Gina