There is a traditional Buddhist practice called Tonglen. You may know it by its English name – “Give and Receive” or “Send and Receive”. Its purpose is to cultivate love and compassion. It can be done as a formal daily practice or in spontaneous moments of the day.
The details are easy to understand. We begin by imagining in our mental field the image of our beloved – our mother. We begin with the effort we ride in breathing so that our loved ones are free from suffering and the causes of suffering. We can further imagine this as a sincere desire to take the suffering of others, to resolve it in our own heart.
Similarly, with every breath we wish for another to be happy and establish reasons for happiness. We can also lead this to the desire to give our happiness and the reasons for our happiness to others, because we know that the source inside cannot be exhausted. This is a basic practice. Breathe in, breathe out, send love and happiness and accept suffering and the causes of suffering.
As mentioned, the practice traditionally begins with the image of the mother. why mom Because this is the fundamental relationship of human intimacy, the first experience of selfless love and care, which serves as the first basis of adult intimacy. Given this reality, who deserves our gratitude, love, care and undivided attention? So, surely, by remembering the selfless love of a mother, we can continue to develop love and compassion towards others and maximize the effect of this action. Surprisingly, when Eastern teachers introduced this practice to the West, they directly encountered an unexpected obstacle.
The moment the practice is explained, hands go up – “not my mother.” “My mother was this and that,” always accompanied by a series of complaints about the mother’s indifference, coldness, or abusive behavior that permanently “broke” the important bond of mother-child intimacy—foreshadows adult intimacy issues in the West.
Recognizing this unique challenge of modern life, there has been a shift in the way practice is taught. Alternatively, the Western student is asked to begin the practice by recalling the kindness and care of a special loved one, or to create a state of inner peace and inner well-being, using either approach as a basis for the practice. This is how the western problem with the mother disappears.
Now let me explain how I learned this experience in Asia. I studied Tonglen in a 10-day workshop at the Pullahari Monastery in the foothills of Kathmandu. As students, we met twice a day in a group for 2 hours. During the first 4 days, the teacher repeatedly observed how kind and selfless the mother was. Little attention was paid to the psychological limitations of the adult mother. Focusing on the life-giving response to the child was completely dependent on our happiness to allow it to mature.
She began each session with the decision, whether conscious or unconscious, to have a baby and how it changed the mother’s life. Then he talked about carrying a baby, the challenges of pregnancy, the birth process, the sleepless nights, the challenges of raising a child and the dedication of the breed over many years in the development of the child and finally letting go when the time came. I treasure the very detailed and honest description he gave of the process. However, they were broad, undeniable and compassionate.
Every day after teaching, we would go back to our little room to reflect on our mother’s kindness and gratitude. My mother has been an immigrant in this country for as long as I can remember, working 2 jobs, navigating a difficult marriage, and doing her best to raise her children in a nuclear family. Proximity was a psychological and logistical impossibility for him. It was only towards the end of my mother’s life that an aspect of late intimacy developed. However, I followed the teacher’s instructions. Every day, twice a day, my meditation practice focused on remembering the elements of self-sacrifice that are, to one degree or another, important aspects of motherhood.
It was an intellectual experience for the first couple of days, but then something changed, something opened in my heart. I realized the sacrifices my “mentally flawed” mother really made for my life, allowing the first generation American to go through the very dependent childhood years to become a doctor early and then be drawn to the Himalayas to find deep sources of knowledge and healing. What a gift!
Could I have done it without her? Would you be able to complete your life without the dedication of your mother and others? In my case, the answer for me was a resounding “no”. This is not a complete endorsement of her, far from it, but my overall understanding dependency about her for everything before birth and after birth. And the fact that I’m here today confirms that he met this dependence carefully, in his own imperfect way, as best he could with his circumstances.
On the fourth day of these instructions, meditations, and meditations, I felt tears of gratitude welling up in my heart and running down my face. I appreciated the extraordinary kindness and selflessness of my mother, who followed my father, siblings and others, as before. This appreciation of surface imperfections looked into the instinctive and good heart of every mother, however dark it seemed at the time.
Once this is done, we are instructed to sink into our hearts and cultivate this feeling so that the remembrance of kindness and self-sacrifice becomes an expansive gratitude. With that accomplished, we were told we were ready to begin our authentic Tonglen experience.
We must embrace suffering and give kindness from the core of this cherished feeling. Nothing is made here. The sequence begins with the most dear to us, to the unknown others, to those we find difficult, and finally to the whole of humanity. We begin, of course, with the mother.
That’s how I learned to practice Tonglen and was once again immersed in the positivity of my mother’s imperfect efforts. I learned to see with gratitude that care was life-sustaining and the best possible given their abilities and circumstances. I no longer needed to fabricate or fabricate the depth of gratitude and heart that underlies this true practice.
I would like to make two comments about the differences – East and West, which explain the issues discussed above to some extent. First, according to tradition in the East, children are brought up by a large family. There is always someone around to hug, reassure, listen and provide. Such a large community ensures a stable and loving childhood. On the contrary, in modern times, it is very difficult to present a mother or a mother-father unit. Although the intentions of unselfish parents are the same, the inevitable consequences of today’s stressful parenting environment allow for tired, young, and over-supportive parents.
The second point I would like to make is what I would call Western psychology’s demonization of the mother. To me, this is a devastating effect that is rarely discussed that has a profound effect on adult intimacy problems. In the East, the mother is revered and respected for her role, no matter how less than perfect it may be at times. This makes it possible to respect and preserve this first and deepest intimacy.
In the West, my observation is that the mother is responsible for many problems of adults and lacks the respect and deep respect in the East. The cost of this maddening of the mother is, in my view, deeply felt individually and culturally. These two factors can make this practice difficult in the West.
Maybe there is a lesson in these words. None of us have reached the pinnacle of mental health. We all suffer from our past. Perhaps it is still possible for each of us to look back, to get out of the mental maturity of our loved ones and to open our minds and hearts to the deeper love and affection that is in the true essence of each of us and is especially embodied in the motherly response to the total dependence of our lives before, inside and outside of our children. This is not to justify psychological abuse, but to free us to a deeper capacity for forgiveness, gratitude, and intimacy on our way to greater life and health. It is this attitude that drives Tonglen’s powerful practice.
Elliott Dacher, MD Website: http://www.elliottdacher.org
