A Modest Proposal

I've always has a love-hate relationship with work and parenting. I can put a knot in my stomach any time by just thinking about the inherent conflicts -- the expanding hours Americans are expected to put in, the need to balance professional and personal creativity and productivity with the time and work involved in the feeding and care and enjoyment of offspring.

First there's the anti-parent faction at work - you know, the ones who look at you sideways or make snide remarks when you leave at 4:30 or 5 on a regular basis, to beat, as I used to call them, the Day Care Police.

On one hand, I believe that all workers should have, simply, a life - something other than the job that drives them and gives them joy. To that end, everyone ought to have a reason, and the ability, to spend reasonable amounts of time at home and at pursuits other than work.

On the other, I have personally suffered financially through the babyhood and elementary-school-hood of two American citizens-in-training, who will someday (God willing) be productive and engaged workers and taxpayers. Although their father and I cobbled together weekend and off-hour work that required no more than part-time day care, the resulting bill still approached and sometimes topped our mortgage payment. After-school and summer care continued to drain thousands of dollars each year from our family budget - money not spent on home repair, savings, new car, vacations - all the way through middle school.

The tax credit for day care seems like an afterthought and an insult when you consider the enormity of the expense - an expense the state does not see fit to help with at all.

Given the complete lack of interest and support my government has shown in helping with the care and well-being of my children in these extremely formative years, I've sometimes wanted to run for office on the Modest Proposal that MY two little future wage earners should therefore have their future Social Security taxes earmarked entirely to ..... ME. (Much the same way that Al Franken talked about running for office on the platform of eliminating ATM fees.)

Sure, there would be a little bookkeeping and earmarking involved at the IRS. But surely it'd be possible to track my little wage earners' income and make sure I got my slice! Imagine some of the eventual consequences... Childless people would have to put aside extra money in their early-earning years to compensate for the later lack of income! Exactly the inverse of now, where the child-bearing are sucked dry.

I'm just kidding, of course....Mostly. After all, I'd think the goal should be a society where the young and old are cared for by a community of people with ample resources. We've stripped so many supports from families now that parent's weekly schedules and bank accounts are both worn down to the nub. I think I know why there is no universal child care in the US: the parents of very young children, the ones who would have to lobby and advocate to make it happen, are simply too freaking tired.

Sangha...or, Another Wonderful Google

One more wonderful use for Google - you can use it to find like-minded people and groups in your own back yard. Driving, trying to tell a friend on the phone about my meditation group, I couldn't recall the exact address and instead told him to just Google it

Been going to my sangha more regularly for the past couple of months. Last night I was pleasantly surprised to see an old professional acquaintance, and to learn during the dharma talk that another person there was also a new mom. I loved this, as I often worked for years in non-profits, have struggled with how to reconcile my desire for social change with the buddhist admonition to look deeply and not judge. And I've written a bit here about the natural tension between the daily demands of parenting conflicting with the ideal practice.

I have a wonderful sangha, in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hahn, in which we meditate for a half hour and then have a structured dharma discussion. I have been going for about five years, off and on, and always enjoy the dharma talks. (Since I've been back lately I've remembered what I think of as the "performance anxiety" of meditating with other people. I never have to swallow this much at home...) It is very structured, with each person taking a turn to speak about their practice or their life, in turn. It is not a conversation - one person talks; everyone else listens. Everyone has their different pace, and style, and content. Sometimes I feel I am off stride, sometimes it is easy and fluid. I've often been deeply impressed by the things other people are going through, things you would never guess.

In a way it's like dating was, for me, after my divorce: something you had to go through in order to experience it; to experience yourself in relation to other people. You gain an insight from being there that's not possible by simply reading or studying, however deeply.

Sometimes I circle back to thinking about how important the sangha is in many traditions - the need for the support of community of like-minded people. It makes sense, completely, to recognize the need for eyes and minds other than your own.