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My First Joy ~
My Mom
My first real joy was the relationship I had with my Mom. (Thank you, Sugar Pie. That’s really sweet.) She’d had two human children before me, and I think she was determined to get it right this time. She said that we had some perks that she and her girls never had.
First, she was in a position to pay complete attention to me. Second, there was no one trying to undermine our relationship. A third perk was that she’d had a lot of time on her spiritual path and got enough consciousness to see things she may not have seen when her human children were young. Did I get that right, Mom?
Yes you did, dear. Well said.
With a little consciousness on her side and no one trying to undermine our relationship, paying attention to me grew into a really cool kind of specialness. You wouldn’t believe how great she treated me!
I got everything I wanted. She didn’t think in terms of “spoiling” me. She just wanted me to be happy. (Isn’t that cool?) She thought that small Beings (human kids included) got “spoiled” if they were denied rather than when they got the good things that they wanted. And I am (was) living proof of that.
My Mom treated me with the respect of a sadhu ram. and I treated her like my best disciple-devotee.
So I guess you could say that my first joy was being completely loved and treated with such respect. This went on throughout my lifetime.
And the very beginning of this was when my Mom found me and brought me home in a box.
Coming Home in a Box
I was really scared. At that point I didn't know who or what she was and I couldn’t see through the slits in the box very well, and we were in something that was moving.
That was scary because it brought back some kind of visceral memory I associated with my sisters and brothers and me being dumped in a ditch alongside the road. We were very young when that happened so I don’t even remember my body’s mother. I was the only one left when Mom came along.
When I got scared and started crying, my Mom never yelled at me, she just made the thing we were moving in stop moving and picked me up out of the box and held me and talked to me until I wasn’t scared any more.
I don’t know how many times we had to do this before we got where we were going. But by the time we got there, we’d had many cuddles and lots of reassuring noises together, and I knew I already loved her and that she loved me and that she was my real Mom now.
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Love is a better
teacher than punishment. |
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Copyright ©2003 First published May 1, 2003, Lauretta Graham, Durga Ma. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including the use of information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from Lauretta Graham, AKA Durga Ma.