The Canopy of Love
“Man! Its half past eight!” he jumps in through the door, “Are we running behind schedule Mick Pal?” he turns to the chubby, rosey teddy on the table top, “Is she in bed already?”
The orange night lamp continues to glow as I pull the quilt over my face, quivering with laughter behind sealed lips. Fourteen-year-old Nishu is home and yes playtime’s over. We call it a day around between half past eight and nine each night. After eight, screens are shut and we’re sharing caring and cuddling. A neighbor of mine once teased me, “Aren’t you going to wait for me to return from office? You’re the only one in the building that calls it a day before 9.” She whines childishly, “The grocer met me in the elevator and pushed the fifth floor button. I’ll bring your groceries after this is what he said holding up some pulses, salt and goodies. Priya Didi goes to bed early you know. I’ll deliver the groceries to her place first and be back in a jiffy.”
Well, this neighbor friend and I have aligned a mutually convenient time where we talk whilst she walks the park and I swing each morning before our office schedules. Where there’s a will…….
With God’s energy and unwavering support, Nishu and I have been sailing through this beautiful journey called “Life” Though not a cake walk all along, this decade has been largely rewarding as both of us connect/disconnect on and off, learning, jumping into each other and growing out of old uncomfortable thinking patterns. Mickey and Mini are two teddy bears and another little one named Goofy. If you happen to drop in, you’ll meet Nishu and me for the three teddy trio are an invisible but indispensable part of the family.
Growing up good girl, I always managed to follow the book; an obedient daughter, fine student on the first bench. With Nishu stepping into the drama of life, there was much for me to learn. Until seventh grade or so he was doing fine. Then, he began to steer in a different direction, tucking books in a corner and moving outward. I believe there’s a method in his madness but something within myself I needed to work on. Although my mind had begun to accept him for the unique person he is blooming to be in his own skin, lessons of life gradually sunk in. “For him, play time is as important as office is to you.” Shared an HR Manager-friend, non-parent over the phone one Sunday morning as I sat by the coffee table with the ear phones plugged as we were on a call.
I’d invariably find my buttons being pushed and myself flying off the handle. Yes, perfectly accepting the child for who he is, my mind began to gradually digest traits of his nature that are understandably different from mine but I’d often find myself being put on the spot. Each time, one situation is sorted out, another one emerges and guess what? Just when you feel the tough gets going…….
Had Nishu not come into the drama at the perfect time he’s suppose to enact his role of the son character with me, Mom, what reason would there be for me to step out of my comfort zone and expand horizons. Why would I ever stretch myself emotionally? Nishu’s responses and remarks are like bitter pills that perhaps not great on the pallet of the tongue need to be taken in.
“You always say you’ll shut the door and go to bed by half past eight, Mom” he grins, “but, you’re actually sitting up waiting for me even on evenings I return after 9.” I say nothing but sit in solitude during swing time next morning. “This kid is something isn’t he?” My mind and I schedule a meeting with each other. Nishu knows deep down that home is a place…….
“Home is a place where, when you have to go there…. they have to take you in”
– Robert Frost
Have my thoughts and actions being misleading Nishu and sending him mixed signals. Yes, home indeed is a place to want to come to the security and love that the outer world cannot compensate for but have I been walking my talk? My words are losing weight because Nishu has figured, through repeated experiences that the ground rules are laid down but easily bent to accommodate him at all times. Because of my actions contradicting my words, the child is beginning to take things for granted, including the security, intimacy and connection home offers. We decide and discuss that play time begins at 6 upto 8 p.m. during evenings but the kid invariably gets to come in even after consistent late timings he has been conveniently choosing by himself.
Getting bent out of shape and causing strife isn’t going to get me anywhere. It’s me that needs to learn here. By allowing the action once what signals am I sending across? Repeated actions are being reinforced. Once done and left unchecked, the message that Nishu has picked up is….” If I step in at half past eight today and there’s been no correction means all is well. That allows his mind to endorse this as acceptable. The next evening, the kid stretches things a little more to 8:40.
For me, it’s been good work, to accept Nishu as different sort of personality that Priya was as a little girl. What worked with my parents for me at that point of time may or may not work with Nishu. It’s about trial and error, it’s about driving into narrow lanes and bumping into “No entry” zones before moving into another direction. Life, parenting being only one part of it, is all about solving, resolving that jig-saw puzzle, pulling your hair out whilst you put that last piece together only to be handed another one!
Play timings being laid down as family guidelines is only one illustration of the larger picture. It was time for me to check and change where else have there been leaks. Have I been scattering around unintended words so much that they seem to have lost power?
Well, asAlbert Einstein puts it: “If I had an hour to solve a problem I’d spend 55 minutes thinking about the problem and 5 minutes thinking about solutions.” I heave a sigh of relief, treat myself to a cup of ginger tea and some cookies. This is a step in my journey. Now that the diagnosis is done, let’s get to the execution part of the plan, shall we? Mind and I put all cards on the table. This is about nipping things in the bud. Priya was a little girl who learnt by listening; Nishu, a type who learns through experience. He has to experience the flame to know that it feels uncomfortably hot. Well, having said that, we need to work this in a way that the lesson is learnt and unaccepted behaviors are nipped in the bud.
One evening as Nishu collects his racket and water bottle, ready to hop out to play, he waves bye to me as I log out of work and collect my little pouch for a walk up the building terrace. “Food will be on the kitchen counter, sweetheart” I say in a matter-of-fact tone, “And, in case we don’t see each other, since I go to bed early…. I’ll see you in the morning.” He listens and hops off. It’s going to take a while for the shift to happen. For a while now, I had been
enforcing and reinforcing contradictory rules; saying one thing but acting out another so it wouldn’t come as a surprise that these words fall on deaf ears.
Well, expectedly, they did. But, I choose to stick to what is decided upon. The first evening, he came home later than was decided upon. All these years of both of us living by ourselves has made him responsible enough to understand what and where food will be lying. Its time for me to step back, detach and observe situations from a bird’s eye view. Until, I let go, his growth will be restricted.
Next morning, the tall chap comes and perches himself on my lap as I sign out of the Zoom meditation class. He puts his arms around me and says Good Morning. Cautious, I smile too but don’t count my chickens before they’re hatched. It takes 24 to 48 hours perhaps more for the injection to work. The next evening, its time to step out for play. Nishu waves the racket again, “Last evening was one evening. I don’t think you’ll sleep before your little one comes home” he grins.
Love is about detachment and strength. Unconditional love is not about being so attached that my head is in the clouds. Love is about striking the delicate balance between “law” and “love” There are people in life that I certainly love but there’s time when I want to draw the line. “I accept and love you for who you are……but this is as far as it goes with me.” When twins born together are physically left attached, beyond a certain point of time, the togetherness becomes a burden to carry and restricts emotional oxygen to the soul. This is what spirituality teaches me. I know when to love and I understand when to step aside and watch.
The second evening too Nishu left riding on his belief that Mom will wait up for me, that things and people will wait, accommodate me for whatever I desire. Well I chose to stand by what mind and I had agreed upon. Nishu and I met next morning with him sound asleep like an Angel amidst Mickey and Mini Mouse and poor Goofy fallen to the floor beside the bed.
“Good Morning Goofy,” I announce, acting out my part, “Did Nishu and the two guys happen to inadvertently knock you off the bed last night?” I walk toward the window, draw open the curtains to let in the sun. The leaves of the money plant outside the window smile up at me. Nishu jumps up and rubs his eyes.
Its taken more than a few days for the idea to sink in. He understands now that if I want to cuddle up and share my day with Mum, I’ve got to be home in time. This a+b whole square formula has worked here which is no guarantee that I need rest on my laurels. One step at a time, one day at a time, one situation at a time, lets just cross bridges when we come to them. The underlying idea is to keep the connect. As he steps into tenth grade, out of school and into University, the space, security and emotional anchor that home provides will work its magic and attract the young man to this sacred Canopy of Love despite cardboard props or illusive attractions the outside world and teen company offers.
My focus is to ensure I tend, nurture and water the seed. With caution and care; the buds and leaves at the top will take good care of themselves.
Payal Jethra
Mumbai