The Smidge of Smug
I was in Walgreen's tonight, buying some Gripe Water – yep, that's really the name for a homeopathic
remedy for babies with colic. Too bad it doesn't work for cranky adults. It would sell millions and save the world as well. Anyway, another grandmother perusing the same section of baby medicines started grousing about children having children.
I was already in a compassionate state of mind, having just been walking and patting Chase (now 3 weeks old tomorrow, er, today). My compassion extended out to her; and so, with my mind divided between her and studying the various colic meds, I made 'agreeing' noises. On the inside, however, I was feeling a smidge of smugness that My daughter was actually a grown woman, in her mid-thirties, and totally capable.
So here it is, 3 hours later, and I'm reviewing my day – catching the smidge of smug that lodged at the base of my throat. It wasn't really compassion that I shared with the other grandmother, it was dismissal. I spared a glance in her direction, but I didn't actually BE with her. Not that I have to BE with everyone, I know I don't. However, in retrospect, it was an opportunity to connect, to share, and maybe even acknowledge her intention to be a supportive mother/grandmother.
I could have made a difference, a minor one, to be sure, but a difference all the same. Instead I colluded with her reactive mindset, when I wasn't even in the same mindset as she. But my collusion downgraded my original state of compassion, sliding it into smug.
I have now re-imagined my behavior – seeing myself looking the other woman in the eyes and saying, "Yes, and isn't it lucky she has you. And aren't you lucky to be young enough to enjoy your grandchildren." It might not have made a difference to her, but it likely would have made a difference to me. At least I wouldn't have experienced the separation of the illusion of superiority.
Ann, this had me brushing tears from my cheek. As the mother of one of those children having children (my son has just turned 18) I have, in my own smugness, dismissed my very self this way. The joy of soon holding my first grandchild (in March) has been overshadowed by my refusal to be compassionate with the woman in the mirror. My son did not choose as I would have had him choose. Where did I go wrong?
After reading The Smidge of Smug, I now realize that I’ve never confronted that mindtalk and have yet to tell the truth. So, I’m saying, here and now, that my one and only child is an amazing human being, intelligent, loving, and capable not only of choosing for himself but also of walking his path with grace, strength and honor. Furthermore, I’m taking a stand to own the truth that the single most significant reason he is all that and a bag of chips is because he was lucky enough to have me for a mother.
And I would say that your son has an amazing mother – intelligent, loving, and capable of remembering who she is, and walking her path with grace, strength and honor. No wonder he’s like that too!