Why Conscious Parenting Is Less About Our Children & More About Us By Zelma Tolley
I was cold. I had one arm out of my dressing gown to accommodate for the squirming and noisy newborn who wanted to be held just so.
I paced the room. Again. It must have been midnight by now. Panic rose in my body. I had to take a toddler to song time in the morning and I could picture the bags under my eyes to compliment tomorrow’s wavering patience already.
Until, silence.
The glow from the Himalayan salt lamp was not quite adequate enough for me to see whether her eyes were closed. We stayed in this spot where the carpet met the window for a while. I gently swayed as I stared out at the street light, at the fishing boats leaving the bay and remembered that this does end. I knew this because her older sister was just the same, yet so different, her own little person. The crying from 8pm onwards does quieten. The breastfeeds hourly overnight do start to stretch.
But I was feeling stretched.
Slowly, I arranged us to fit like a puzzle. One arm above her little head, blankets at my waist to keep her safe and the pillow on her side was thrown to the floor with a thud. This. The calm after the storm. The quiet after hours of noise. I didn’t dare breathe. You were free in your sleep now. I could see it on your face that whatever it was, a tummy bubble or the sheer realisation the being earthside was not quite the same as life in the womb, was not tormenting you any longer.
I sighed. My exhaustion was to the point where I was wide awake and my body ached. Counterproductive. I was thinking about the other children asleep in their cots. I was thinking about other mothers who don’t start to grind their teeth by the third hour of crying. I could think of a thousand times where I’ve been faced with the same dilemma.
A time where I found myself almost broken yet reaching for the glue before I would come completely undone. But the glue? It’s made of gold. I consider myself a conscious parent. But I’ve learned the hard way that being a conscious parent is not just about being aware of and in tune with your child’s needs, their surroundings and their voice, it’s about listening to yours.
Conscious parenting is less about techniques and the way you discipline and more about how consciously connect with yourself.
Conscious parenting is less about giving your children every single piece of you and more about looking after yourself, keeping the most sacred piece just for you.
Conscious parenting is less about buzzwords and perfection and more about leaning into self-compassion and surrendering to the fact that you cannot aspire to perfection. Your child does not need perfection.
Conscious parenting is less about your children and more about the person who brought them into this world.
You’ll start to notice this truth.
If you’re connected to your breath, you’re going to notice when your nostrils start to flare.
If you’re connected to your thoughts, they aren’t going to hit you like a steam train the next time you find yourself face to face with a screaming toddler and a five year old who needs peanut butter on a cracker, like, right now.
You’ll swear less. Maybe.
There’s this idea that parenting consciously sucks the life out of you. That in order to show our love is deep, we must dig to that depth until we bleed dry. In truth, running on autopilot will suck the life out of you. You’ll notice when this is happening. You could be distracted, irritable, easily startled or overwhelmed. Maybe you reach for your phone or other escape, only to find yourself deepening the spiral of disconnection.
When working with families, I tell them to find a safe place. A safe place in their home and a safe place in whatever stillness they can find. This is a special place just for them, for peace. A dark pantry, under the covers, the spare room where nobody ventures; to place their hand on their stomach, on their heart, and breathe.
Pause. Reconnect. The heart beating in their chest? It’s loving those children so hard right now. The breath causing their stomach to rise and fall? It tells them that they are alive. This is the biggest picture. This is to show them how important they are in the scheme of the wrong colour cup and being late to kindergarten. Again. This is a time to really notice their thoughts and get curious. “I wonder what my needs are right now?”
They then re-emerge, and even if they are still feeling dysregulated and out of sorts, they are here in their body. They know where they are. They know what they might need. They know who they are.
Parenting consciously means knowing when to step away from the parenting part of it all. Self-parenting. Taking a break, getting a glass of water even though our children want their drink too, setting boundaries, allowing room for everyone’s feelings to squeeze in and get comfortable; like the four of you on a two-seater.
“You cannot love another until you love yourself.” The biggest cliche there is; and yet we squash that completely as soon as we have children. Here we are, loving them fiercely and leaving nothing behind.
We can connect with ourselves so that we can connect with our children. But we cannot show up for our children in the way that we want to if we are not showing up for ourselves. And when we do show up for our children, we can consider what we would need if we were them. If we were tearfully in their shoes, the ones that they are refusing to wear right now, what would we need? We are there. We are conscious. We are together.
Parenting consciously in a world where we are not always conscious is the tricky part. Parenting consciously alongside others who do not is difficult. Parenting consciously and through the night armed with science yet a heavy heart can be lonely. But realising that you don’t always have to get it right, you don’t always have to put yourself last, you don’t always have to wait until the final, bitter end before you breathe. This. This will set you free.
Zelma is a parent first and multi-award winning social worker second. Zelma’s work with The Postnatal Project intends to make the parenting world a safer and less lonely place. Sharing raw stories and armed with tools to share, Zelma can support your postpartum experience. You can find you more by visiting her website or following her on social media. Follow Zelma below.