As a parent, you may have heard a familiar warning: “Careful, they grow up fast...” Seemingly moments after you hold your newborn child in your arms, they are already stealing your heart, starting to babble, and learning to take their first steps. Family vacations, tantrums, and birthday parties roll by in a roller coaster of light and sound that spans the full spectrum of human emotions. As we buckle in and try to enjoy the ride, we are keenly aware that at some point, this crazy ride will inevitably come to an end. Baby boys and girls become older boys and girls, who eventually grow up to become our adult (but still baby) boys and girls. As our parenting relationship develops and grows ever deeper with our children, we suddenly become aware that this is a ride that we can’t slow down, no matter how hard we try to drag our feet...
The familiar warning, “Careful, they grow up fast…” is intended to trigger a sort of useful anxiety. It is a spot-on description of the relatively limited time that we have with our children and reminds us to take it all in while we can. The clock is ticking and time is not in our favor. While we technically may have 50+ years with our children, the actual number of days we have together is heavily front-loaded. Parents and children have significantly more time in the early years and much less time together after their children reach adulthood and move away. For individuals lucky enough to stay at home with their little ones, their immersion in toddler life only lasts until they walk through the door on their first day of kindergarten. After that, school takes up a large portion of their lives and does not let up until they are ready to move out of the house and on to bigger and better things. And for parents who have to work part or full-time, their time is even limited from the start of our joint adventure. So each moment is precious and must be fully embraced, right? Except that it isn’t. Each moment should be cherished. Except that it can’t.
Despite our best intentions, life cannot be enjoyed all of the time. For every family breakfast, hike, lazy Saturday morning, and impromptu giggle-fest, there are meltdowns, illnesses, stressors, and tragedies. Parents are faced with the realities of work/life (im)balance, pressures to simultaneously raise free-range and fully scheduled children, and the need to keep romance alive with your partner in crime. All of these obligations and distractions create a sort of filter – a lens through which we must experience our world. Pile on enough stuff and this lens starts to blur and distort, robbing us from the rich detail of the unfolding experience with our kids. Ask any stressed out parent how much they are enjoying every precious moment and you are likely to receive a scowl or a swift kick in response.
Digital Memories
In our desperate attempt to hold on to every moment, we turn to technology. With the arrival of smartphones, we now have a camera and camcorder that conveniently fits in our pocket. We eagerly snap photos and record videos of our children in a desperate attempt to chronicle every moment of the extraordinary and the mundane – first words, camping trips, daddy-daughter dances, bike rides, birthday parties, and hanging out at home. Our pictures and videos provide a guarantee that long after the moment is gone, we will have the opportunity to replay it again and again, perfectly encapsulating what happened. Except that they don’t. We can’t actually hold onto it, despite our efforts. Photographs and videos can’t fully capture the magic of a beautiful, authentic experience. Consider an all-to-common occurrence these days: if you’ve ever been to concert, you will see often people mere feet from their favorite artist or band staring at their tiny smartphone screen as they attempt to record a live version of their favorite song. How sad is this? They robbed themselves of an authentic experience in the name of preserving that very experience. And it is almost guaranteed that they won't watch these videos in the future either...
Likewise, people have probably had the experience of attempting to photograph a beautiful landscape or sunset only to discover that their picture does not accurately reflect the emotional totality of what they experienced. The act of attempting to preserve the moment actively interferes with our experience of the moment. It becomes another distraction that prevents us from being fully present. The same thing happens when attempting to chronicle every moment of our family experience. So then, what can be done? How can we become fully immersed in the present moment with our children – ensuring that we are taking full advantage of the opportunity to watch a tiny human grow up before our eyes?
Disconnect
On a recent road trip up to the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, I realized that I had left my phone behind. Shit. I never leave my phone behind. It is an essential part of my day-to-day life—my modern day Swiss Army knife. It is my camera, music player, internet access, map, GPS, and way to stay connected with friends and family via phone calls, text, and social media. We were on our way to spend the weekend with my wife’s extended family and in the midst of packing up the car and getting the kids ready to head out the door, I had left my phone charging by the bed. The fear of not having instant connection to others or being able to chronicle family experiences was palpable. The constant connectivity had become such an engrained part of my life, and I wasn’t even aware of it.
Every pause in my day had been an opportunity to pull out my phone and fill the time with mindless scrolling through emails, news articles, social media posts, and funny videos. After a moment of panic, I realized that it might not be a bad thing to disconnect for this trip. I initially went through a sort of withdrawal, as I had forgotten how to simply be still. To notice my surroundings. To connect with family. To engage in thoughtful reflection. I actually had to relearn life lived within the limited bounds of my five senses, my immediate surroundings, and my family. I know. Sad. That “mistake” I made became an awaking – drawing my attention to something I didn’t even know was holding me back. Being constantly connected put another filter on my life and had been clouding and distorting my experience.
Since returning from this trip, I haven’t yet gotten rid of my phone, but I’m keenly aware of the temptation to engage in mindless scrolling over more meaningful uses of my free time—such as watching my children play or engaging in conversations with my wife. I have self-imposed limits on my phone use and I (mostly) stick to them. I try to put my phone away when I come home from work until after my kids go to bed. I have been attempting a “no phones in bed” rule as well, which my wife appreciates. And I’m much more comfortable going on a trip to the store, downtown, or to the beach without having it with me. During these phone-free experiences, I’ll occasionally have a sudden urge to check my phone. That momentary panic I feel when I remember that I don’t have my phone now becomes a reminder to be more attentive to the present moment.
Be Mindful
As a university professor, I have the pleasure of mentoring very talented doctoral students in their psychological research and clinical pursuits. One of my students was very passionate about reducing the often overwhelming stress experienced by parents of children with autism spectrum disorders. Our university autism center is on the cutting edge of interventions designed to improve the skills and outcomes of children with autism, but we had not yet focused on directly addressing the very real mental health needs of their parents. These parents often experience tremendous stress associated with the realities of raising a child on the spectrum—a realigning of expectations, the constant fear of not doing enough to support your child’s development, the alteration of daily routines and family plan to accommodate your child’s needs, and guilt that not enough time is spent with your spouse or other children. These parents are also some of the most incredible individuals with whom I have worked— ready to jump into the thick of it to fight for their child, extremely dedicated, full of love and passion, and committed to the additional roles of defacto autism therapist and child advocate. If ever there were a population of parents in need of extra support, this would be it.
My student wanted to create an experience where parents could have permission to take a pause and focus on their own needs for a moment. For this, she turned to her growing interest in mindfulness. After careful planning and study, she developed and implemented an eight-week course that significantly reduced the stress of participating parents while increasing their level of mindfulness. The scientific support for the use of mindfulness has exploded in recent years. There is strong evidence that it promotes mental wellbeing and effectively targets a variety of psychological problems, including depression, anxiety, and stress. This recent resurgence in the scientific literature is a little strange, given that Buddhists and Hindus knew about of these benefits thousands of years ago. There is something powerful about realigning one’s experience of life that creates lasting, meaningful change. Through the process of working with my student to teach parents to be more mindful, I became increasingly intrigued myself. If these techniques could be transformative for parents of children with autism, then perhaps there was also hope for me.
The Meaning of Mindful Parenting
Hear the word mindfulness and you might have mental images of new-age folks sitting cross-legged with eyes closed, humming to themselves. But mindfulness can actually be practiced across the full range of human activities—mindful eating, walking, socializing, cleaning the house, and yes, even the chaos of raising tiny human creatures. Mindfulness is the practice of paying attention, on purpose, to the present moment and adopting a nonjudgmental approach in response to your thoughts and emotions. If you are like me, much of your life is not actually spent focusing on the present. As parents of young (or older) children, our thoughts are often consumed by other considerations—namely (a) the weight of the past and (b) worries about things to come in the future. Think about it: working parents often come home weighed down with the burden of their work day while simultaneously worrying about some aspect of the future – an upcoming deadline, financial uncertainty, or even an upcoming social engagement. Stay-at-home parents don’t have it any easier. The accumulated stress of toddler tantrums, household management, and social expectations collide with worries about being a good enough parent and raising a successful child. Mindfulness aims to help free us of the shackles of these distractions and become fully immersed in life.
Embrace your Senses
One of keys to mindfulness is paying attention to your immediate surroundings. All of our rich experiences are brought to us through our senses, and yet we are often on autopilot as we move through our day. We might scarf down our meals, chug our coffee as we drive to work, use time during a family outing to hop on our phones, and begrudgingly clean our house while thinking about the ten other things that have to be done. Practicing mindfulness means attempting to bring ourselves to full awareness as we go about whatever activity we are in. It is about pausing to be purposeful.
A simple introduction to mindfulness comes in form of breathing. Breathing is something we do all day long and yet, we almost never notice it (unless you are out of shape like me and have just attempted to jog around the block). Engaging in slow, purposeful breaths, and focusing on taking these slow, purposeful breaths clears a mind that usually consumed with burdens and anxiety. I try to practice breathing in through my nose for a count of four and then slowly exhaling out my mouth for a count of four. I try to repeat this for a full minute – it doesn’t sound like a long time, but you’d be surprised how quickly your mind can wander. When this happens, I try not to worry and gently return my attention back to my breath.
Another exercise that my doctoral student introduced to me is mindful eating. A raisin is commonly used in this example, but the same thing can be done with a piece of chocolate or another snack. To most people, the act of eating a raisin would take a second and wouldn’t even register as a life experience. This particular exercise draws your full attention to the task at hand and incorporates all of your senses. You closely examine the raisin, noting the different shades and ridges. You feel the texture of the raisin by holding it in your hand and gently squeezing it. You hold the raisin up to your nose and inhale deeply, noting the subtle sweet fragrance. You slowly place the raisin in your mouth and slowly chew it, taking the time to experience its full flavor. You also pay attention to the sound of your jaw as you slowly chew on the raisin before you fully swallow it. The whole experience may take you over a minute, but you’ve momentarily experienced a taste of mindful awareness (pun fully intended). The same principles can be applied to other activities of your life – mowing the lawn, changing a diaper, getting ready in the morning, or driving to work. We can fully immerse our senses in these experiences and make the mundane a little more magical.
There is a similar exercise in my student’s mindful parenting curriculum that focused on parents’ experiences of their children. In essence, you take your time to become fully immersed the presence of your child, almost as if you were experiencing them for the very first time. With more spirited children, it may be helpful to conduct this exercise while they are asleep or occupied with a quiet activity. Take a deep breath and attempt to quiet the busyness in your mind. Intentionally look at them and take the time to notice the color of their hair, skin, and eyes. Look at how the sun lights up their hair or how the wind blows through it. Pause. Listen to the sound of their voice, vocalizations, and breath. Put your nose to their head and inhale deeply to note what they smell like (FYI, my daughter’s hair used to smell like sweet cream when she was a baby). Hold them in your arms. Feel their weight, the softness of their skin, the way their hair feels in your fingers. Kiss their cheek and feel their skin against your lips. This is your child. Your gift. Take your time and savor their presence. Practiced for a few moments daily, this can be a powerful re-experience of your little one. Now take the same intentionality and apply it to mealtimes, trips to the park, and family vacations. Not all the time, but do it some of the time each day. A few moments is enough. Be present and focus on your senses.
Be Forgiving
In the practice of mindfulness, we attempt to focus completely on the experience unfolding in front of us. We are human, however, and thoughts will inevitably creep in. Perhaps this happened when you just attempted to be mindful with your child. When this happens, we want to acknowledge the thought in a nonjudgmental way, let it go, and then attempt to return to being in the present moment. We tend to get derailed when we become increasingly frustrated by our perceived inability to focus. The frustration can snowball and cause us to give up on the process. Be forgiving. A core tenet of mindfulness is nonjudgmental acknowledgement and acceptance of our thoughts and feelings. If we are attempting to focus on playing with our child and thoughts of a looming work deadline intrude on the experience, aim to acknowledge and accept that we have this work obligation before gently attempting to return to focusing on our child.
Exercise your Mind
Human beings have a tremendous capacity for self-improvement. In both physical and mental domains, we can engage in transformative efforts through small changes implemented daily. Fair warning – for many people, attempting to be a mindful is like exercising a muscle that you simply haven’t used before. It’s even harder for folks used to the constant stimulation of a smartphone newsfeed. Authentic experience, in contrast, is very subtle. It is a gentle force but ultimately becomes more powerful and rewarding. Just like a couch potato going to the gym for the first time, you may not be satisfied with your experience when initially attempting to become more present. You’ll wonder if you’re doing it right (maybe), note that it seems strange (it is), or even convince yourself that maybe it’s not worth the effort (it will be).
Someone new to physical exercise may feel discouraged and attempt to drop out before the actual benefits of continued exertion can be realized; someone new to mindfulness exercises can experience the same thing. So what can you do? Commit to keep trying. Set small goals. Set reminders in your calendar. Reward your attempts (mindful ice cream eating, anyone?). Even if you can’t sustain a mindful approach all day long, try scheduling four minutes that are allocated towards mindfulness practice. Don’t have four minutes? Try two minutes. Also, simply being aware of the mindfulness strategies allows you to gently increase your presence across your daily activities. Even if you are only 20% more present than you were before, that’s a change that can significantly impact you over time. It’s a subtle change that works across activities to gradually change your experience of life.
A Change in Outlook
Rather than trying to hold onto specific moments, I’m trying to adopt a different mindset. I’m allowing experiences to flow through me, or perhaps more accurately, allowing myself to flow through the unfolding experience of life. I understand that I will never experience the same moment or the day ever again, but rather than put a judgment on that realization, I open myself up fully to the next moment that is about to unfold. I focus on the story, not an individual experience. The goal shifts from gripping tightly to a snapshot from a particular moment in time to reveling in the incredible, dynamic narrative that is my life with my wife and my young children. I won’t remember everything or be fully present in every waking moment, and that’s okay. I’ve learned to embrace the imperfection. Life is a beautifully imperfect thing – deeply flawed, time-limited, and magical. Try to enjoy the ride.
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