Paying Attention: A Good Investment

Years ago, I wrote, "As much as I love you and as important as your love is to me, I hate you for the central tragedy of our relationship:  that you don't know me at all." This statement was contained within a letter I wrote to my mother but never delivered. When I wrote it, I was feeling the despair of the little girl I once was, who needed her mother to truly see her, to realize the pain she was bearing alone.

There I was, in my 30s, still wanting the mother who could see that her daughter's heart and soul were sick, shriveling, dying. When I was a young child, I was lost, afraid, and overwhelmed by a nightmare life full of dark secrets...and I felt motherless. Facing those childhood secrets as an adult, I was feeling motherless all over again, still yearning for the nurturing, protection, and healing I had longed for as a child. I wanted a mother who cared more about my emotional life than about my career success or how my clothes looked.

Here I am now, decades later, knowing this truth:  I can never go back to get the mothering I needed as a child, but I can get it now. It's never too late to mother ourselves; we have only to begin.

But without a role model of good mothering, how do we begin?  The answer is so simple, really, so obvious: pay attention. These two simple words call upon us to spend more consciously out of an account from which we tend to wastefully scatter an abundant, though precious, resource. Within these two words lies a world of wisdom that may be entered with four simple steps.

First, paying attention is slowing down enough to notice. Can you exit the freeway traffic of your life for a moment, drive to a serene spot of beauty, slow your breath, and find a more peaceful pace? When you eliminate the distractions of deadlines and schedules, when you eliminate life's "shoulds" for a moment, you may be able to notice that there is some pain, some dis-ease, something not right within you that needs comforting or healing.

Second, paying attention is caring enough to ask. As you slow your breathing and let your awareness move from the external to your internal reality, simply ask, "What do you need?" If it helps you to think of addressing this question to someone other than your current self, then you may wish to envision a younger self. Every age you ever were is still there within you; the newborn babe, the kindergartner, the middle-schooler, and the young adult. All these former selves still have a life in your memory, and each has his own wisdom to offer, her own stories to tell. As you exit "frenetic" mode and find a calm, steady peace, open your mind, see with your inner eyes which one of these former selves stands ready to speak. And then simply ask, "What you you need?"

Third, paying attention is listening, fearlessly and with fierce compassion. You may not like the answer you get. If you believe yourself to be strong, even invulnerable, you may want to reject the answer, "I need to be held." If you believe yourself to be tender and in need of protection, you may want to pretend you do not hear the answer, "I am angry and want to hit someone!" Once you start judging and rejecting the answers, you are no longer making a generous and unconditional payout from your account of attention. Refusing to hear the real answer is the same as giving a valuable gift and then taking it back. You are, in effect, saying, "Just kidding. I don't really care about you."

Fourth, paying attention is taking action in response to what you hear. If your inner wisdom expresses a need to be held, then arrange for that to happen. If you cannot ask another person to hold you, then hold yourself. Curl up in a comfortable place, wrap your arms around yourself, and rock gently. Maybe your hands will want to pat. Maybe you will want to say words such as, "There, there, sweet being. Everything is all right now. I'm here. I've got you." If your inner wisdom expresses an angry need to create damage, give her a chance to do so that is safe for you and for others. Beat on the couch cushions with your bath brush, beat on a sturdy support beam with an empty 2-liter bottle. Buy some small plates at a thrift shop and throw them at a concrete wall or rock (and ask a good friend to clean up the mess, so you don't wind up feeling punished for being angry).

That's all it takes:  Notice. Ask. Listen. Take Action. That's good mothering, good parenting, in a nutshell. If the adults who reared you did not have what they needed to make any or all of these investments in you, it's not too late to make them in yourself. Just pay attention.