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The author, Samata, moved to Taraloka in 1991 to start fundraising for the new Friends of the Western Buddhist Order (FWBO) women’s retreat centre which will cater especially for women who are preparing for Ordination. She now lives in a Community near to Taraloka together with three of the Dharmacharinis who form the ‘Ordination Team’.
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Last summer I met a friend whose first child was then just one year old. He told me that his partner considers that becoming a mother has brought her fulfillment as a woman. He inquired whether I thought this would be the case for all women, and whether I wanted this experience myself. During this conversation I re-contacted the feeling of just how much pressure there is in our social conditioning — even now as we approach the twenty-first century — trying to convince us that as women we can only find meaning in our lives as mothers! It also struck me afresh just how radical my decision is to remain childless. I am a forty-one year old woman and have been a member of the Western Buddhist Order for nearly seven years. Since becoming a practising Buddhist fifteen years ago, I have helped to establish three Right Livelihood businesses within the FWBO; taught yoga; and trained as a Psychosynthesis counselor. I have never been married nor born a child, although I have had many sexual relationships, the longest lasting for twelve years. When I was eighteen the idea of freedom (which at that time I identified with traveling and social justice) was uppermost in my mind, so I hitch-hiked around Europe and later, when I was nineteen, I spent a year in India working with the VSO (Voluntary Service Overseas) organization, returning home overland.
By the time I was twenty-five my centre of attention had shifted from changing the world to finding ways of changing myself. I recognised that my inner life was in a bit of a mess but I did not know how to tackle my difficulties. Having a child was not an option since I felt inadequate even to the task of taking responsibility for myself. I thought it was not possible to justify bringing another human being into the world whose welfare would depend on me. At the age of twenty-six I began to meditate and the long, slow process of self-transformation began.
Since then there have been periods of time and sometimes just brief moments when it has been very tempting to go with the urge to procreate. This urge seems to be an undertow which tugs and seduces, sometimes gently, sometimes fiercely. So why have I resisted its pulls? Seven years ago I was present at the birth of the daughter of a friend. I saw for myself how giving birth is both a deeply personal experience and a universal drama, for we are all born from a womb. Witnessing this for myself released me from the ‘mystique’ of childbirth. This, coupled with the experience of living with children some years previously, convinced me that I did not wish to seek fulfillment through motherhood. Perhaps children just don’t interest me enough. My final answer to the question of why I have not had a child would be simply that the urge not to have a child is stronger than the urge towards procreation and in the end has always won the battle.
What does prompt women to have children, to say ‘yes’ to that urge? Reasons seem to vary. Some women say that they never considered not having children. Often these same women go on to say that had they come across the Dharma earlier they might never have become mothers. For other women motherhood is seen as a proper and fulfilling path for a woman to follow. As for this, I have found myself wondering sometimes whether women are afraid of facing up to the consequences — by no means negative — of not going along this well-worn path. Social pressure can also be a subtle yet strong influence on women in their choice to go ahead and have a child. If you are married, for example, there is often unspoken expectation on the part of family and friends that sooner or later you will have children. Not to do so is often regarded as selfish. It is interesting to note in this regard that there is no adequate word in the English language to describe a woman who positively chooses not to have a child. The words we use are ‘childless’, ‘single’, ‘spinster’ — all of which imply some kind of lack.
Many women find themselves pregnant as the result of an accident — for most forms of contraception are not 100% foolproof. Such women may or may not make the adjustment from an unwanted pregnancy to a wanted child. For other women having a child seems to he something to fall back on when they can’t think what else to do with their lives. Perhaps this is due to an underlying sense of a lack of fulfillment and lack of meaning in life — or even the inability to imagine what one could do if one did not have a child and the courage to go ahead and do it. Another reason women have children is to experience a sense of identity — and belonging which is part of society’s myth of motherhood. For some women, of course, motherhood is the result of a conscious decision arrived at after consideration and discussion of the implications of having a child. For others the urge to have a baby is so strong that they feel impelled to follow its imperative.
For a woman who has chosen to follow a spiritual path, the question that arises is not so much, Is motherhood fulfilling? as, Is it compatible with the spiritual life?
Buddhism, as a path of individual spiritual development that addresses itself to all individuals whatsoever, does not exclude women with children. In fact, taking up a spiritual practice such as meditation which involves the intensive development of skilful mental states can only enhance a woman’s effectiveness as a parent. To go further along that path to the point where she develops Insight into ‘the way things really are’ will chip away at any over-identification with the role of mother and motherhood as an end in itself. Such Insight will also erode the emotionally held view that a child is a part of our ‘self’, belonging to us.
However, while being a mother and living a spiritual life are by no means mutually exclusive, combining them is not always easy. Initially when one becomes a mother a great deal of time and energy is taken up with child care, and anything that requires concentration and periods of withdrawal such as meditation, study or going on a retreat will be difficult. This obviously changes as the child grows up, but nevertheless for many years a parent needs to put the needs of her child, when necessary, before all other commitments. This is especially true for single parents, but is also the case in more conventional family situations. This demand of time, energy and commitment obviously has implications for any woman wanting to make a wholehearted commitment to the Three Jewels.
Another factor worth considering is that motherhood can sometimes render a woman completely dependent on others for material support while she is predominantly engaged in childcare. I would question how helpful such a situation is.
Reprinted from Dakini no 9.
Last summer I met a friend whose first child was then just one year old. He told me that his partner considers that becoming a mother has brought her fulfillment as a woman. He inquired whether I thought this would be the case for all women, and whether I wanted this experience myself. During this conversation I re-contacted the feeling of just how much pressure there is in our social conditioning — even now as we approach the twenty-first century — trying to convince us that as women we can only find meaning in our lives as mothers! It also struck me afresh just how radical my decision is to remain childless. I am a forty-one year old woman and have been a member of the Western Buddhist Order for nearly seven years. Since becoming a practising Buddhist fifteen years ago, I have helped to establish three Right Livelihood businesses within the FWBO; taught yoga; and trained as a Psychosynthesis counselor. I have never been married nor born a child, although I have had many sexual relationships, the longest lasting for twelve years. When I was eighteen the idea of freedom (which at that time I identified with traveling and social justice) was uppermost in my mind, so I hitch-hiked around Europe and later, when I was nineteen, I spent a year in India working with the VSO (Voluntary Service Overseas) organization, returning home overland.
By the time I was twenty-five my centre of attention had shifted from changing the world to finding ways of changing myself. I recognised that my inner life was in a bit of a mess but I did not know how to tackle my difficulties. Having a child was not an option since I felt inadequate even to the task of taking responsibility for myself. I thought it was not possible to justify bringing another human being into the world whose welfare would depend on me. At the age of twenty-six I began to meditate and the long, slow process of self-transformation began.
Since then there have been periods of time and sometimes just brief moments when it has been very tempting to go with the urge to procreate. This urge seems to be an undertow which tugs and seduces, sometimes gently, sometimes fiercely. So why have I resisted its pulls? Seven years ago I was present at the birth of the daughter of a friend. I saw for myself how giving birth is both a deeply personal experience and a universal drama, for we are all born from a womb. Witnessing this for myself released me from the ‘mystique’ of childbirth. This, coupled with the experience of living with children some years previously, convinced me that I did not wish to seek fulfillment through motherhood. Perhaps children just don’t interest me enough. My final answer to the question of why I have not had a child would be simply that the urge not to have a child is stronger than the urge towards procreation and in the end has always won the battle.
What does prompt women to have children, to say ‘yes’ to that urge? Reasons seem to vary. Some women say that they never considered not having children. Often these same women go on to say that had they come across the Dharma earlier they might never have become mothers. For other women motherhood is seen as a proper and fulfilling path for a woman to follow. As for this, I have found myself wondering sometimes whether women are afraid of facing up to the consequences — by no means negative — of not going along this well-worn path. Social pressure can also be a subtle yet strong influence on women in their choice to go ahead and have a child. If you are married, for example, there is often unspoken expectation on the part of family and friends that sooner or later you will have children. Not to do so is often regarded as selfish. It is interesting to note in this regard that there is no adequate word in the English language to describe a woman who positively chooses not to have a child. The words we use are ‘childless’, ‘single’, ‘spinster’ — all of which imply some kind of lack.
Many women find themselves pregnant as the result of an accident — for most forms of contraception are not 100% foolproof. Such women may or may not make the adjustment from an unwanted pregnancy to a wanted child. For other women having a child seems to he something to fall back on when they can’t think what else to do with their lives. Perhaps this is due to an underlying sense of a lack of fulfillment and lack of meaning in life — or even the inability to imagine what one could do if one did not have a child and the courage to go ahead and do it. Another reason women have children is to experience a sense of identity — and belonging which is part of society’s myth of motherhood. For some women, of course, motherhood is the result of a conscious decision arrived at after consideration and discussion of the implications of having a child. For others the urge to have a baby is so strong that they feel impelled to follow its imperative.
For a woman who has chosen to follow a spiritual path, the question that arises is not so much, Is motherhood fulfilling? as, Is it compatible with the spiritual life?
Buddhism, as a path of individual spiritual development that addresses itself to all individuals whatsoever, does not exclude women with children. In fact, taking up a spiritual practice such as meditation which involves the intensive development of skilful mental states can only enhance a woman’s effectiveness as a parent. To go further along that path to the point where she develops Insight into ‘the way things really are’ will chip away at any over-identification with the role of mother and motherhood as an end in itself. Such Insight will also erode the emotionally held view that a child is a part of our ‘self’, belonging to us.
However, while being a mother and living a spiritual life are by no means mutually exclusive, combining them is not always easy. Initially when one becomes a mother a great deal of time and energy is taken up with child care, and anything that requires concentration and periods of withdrawal such as meditation, study or going on a retreat will be difficult. This obviously changes as the child grows up, but nevertheless for many years a parent needs to put the needs of her child, when necessary, before all other commitments. This is especially true for single parents, but is also the case in more conventional family situations. This demand of time, energy and commitment obviously has implications for any woman wanting to make a wholehearted commitment to the Three Jewels.
Another factor worth considering is that motherhood can sometimes render a woman completely dependent on others for material support while she is predominantly engaged in childcare. I would question how helpful such a situation is.
Reprinted from Dakini no 9.
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