Lovong kindness a meditation with children
(Ici traduction en français par Google)
Ever since my first child was just about old enough to understand speech, I have practiced lovingkindness meditation with him at bedtime every evening. I've done the same with my other two children. It's been about sixteen years now. I would be happy to pass along some of what I've learned.
Lovingkindness is a meditation practice taught by the Buddha to develop the mental habit of selfless or altruistic, love. By arousing within ourselves feelings of good will towards ourselves, those near to us, and all beings, we make it likely that these feelings will arise rather than other, less desirable feelings. Hatred cannot coexist with lovingkindness; it dissipates and is not replenished if we supplant thoughts rooted in anger with thoughts rooted in love.
Lovingkindness makes the mind more pliable, counteracts the judgments that arise as we become more perceptive about ourselves and others, and brings us beyond our selfishness. This outward movement is very important to balance the inner focus of meditation practice.
The benefits of lovingkindness practice extend far beyond those who meditate. It offers to all the opportunity to find selflessness, joy, adaptability, and expansiveness. It is a truly universal practice and need not be associated with any particular religious concept.
I've always given my three sons a choice. Most evenings they clearly want to do this. If, however, one of them is cranky or upset, I'll say, "Would you like to do lovingkindness tonight?" and if the answer is no, then I'll say, "OK, honey," give him a kiss (through the blanket if necessary), and say goodnight. So they know it is for them. If they see it is OK with me not to do it, it won't hurt my feelings; then it is alive and part of their lives. It prevents it from becoming a ritual with little meaning. Feeling good about doing this meditation is what brings it into their lives. They associate their own happiness and peace with a meditation that wishes happiness and peace for themselves and others. It also feels good that the practice has become part of our evening, just as the story and my lying down with them. It is a special time of attention, gentleness, fantasy, mind opening, and familial love. It tells me something about how this practice feels to them when, following a tense time, such as an argument, they still want me to practice lovingkindness with them. At times like these the pleasant and wholesome associations of lovingkindness meditation are of unique value.
I long expected the day to arrive when my eldest son, who is now eighteen, would not want to practice anymore. Even as I expected this, he and I benefited from the connection we felt at bedtime (and, of course, through many other times.) The wedge of teen-agerdom and his growing independence was a challenge at times, but this special connection was very strong. I am now finding a similar connection with our middle child as he enters his teenage years.
What finally did happen as the eldest reached about sixteen years of age was, I became busier at bedtime with his two brothers and he simply became less insistent on my presence for the practice. Every now and then I ask him if he still practices lovingkindness on his own and am pleased to find that he does. Now, I have to point out, this can all take a lot of time. The stories (usually made up rather than read), the lovingkindness meditation, and the "be with" time can add up to twenty or thirty minutes. With children in separate rooms this can add up to an hour each night. As wonderful as it can be, sometimes I can't do it. And it's good to know that even a five minute practice has great value.
Interestingly, when I'm busy the boys still request a "quick lovingkindness" even before a story or "be with" time. When I have to be away, they do just fine without me. Here is how we do the lovingkindness practice:
I ask them to close their eyes and relax. I suggest that they pay attention to their bodies, noticing the sensation of lying down. Then, they think along with me as I say the meditation that is contained on the following page:
Following the meditation, each child gets a kiss and an "I love you." I lie there briefly, then leave.By beginning with some instructions rather than the practice itself, I'm setting the stage and the mood. This creates a transition from listening to stories to focusing on their feelings and then growing those feelings towards love. Another adjustment is that each person, group, or region towards whom the lovingkindness is sent has slightly different words. I do not want this practice to become rote. By avoiding repetition, we help the meditation stay alive and relevant. Then, we grow the feelings of love in the most fertile soil: logically the closest and most loved people (or animals or plants). The children themselves get the most attention, based on the simple fact that we all want to be free from pain and difficulties. When we know how that feels for ourselves, we can, with identification and understanding, spread that feeling to others. After all, they are just like us and must also want to be free from pain, discomfort, and other suffering.
We extend lovingkindness toward ourselves, toward someone we love a great deal (Dad and Mom), toward others we love (the brothers), then toward those we like (our friends at school) or at least feel neutral toward (teachers, other kids), then toward all beings. With adults, the practice goes from oneself to a loved one, then to a neutral one, than to one towards whom we feel anger, then on out geographically. With children, we slowly grow the world; we are not "pushing the river." When they are ready, we extend the lovingkindness toward people they feel some agitation toward. Even with the youngest child I will occasionally add people he may feel anger towards. With my thirteen year old we do so often, though he seems to feel little agitation towards others.
There is an element of improvisation in the way I conduct this practice. If I feel the kids are in a particularly loving place, I may focus more on sending love to their teachers. "May they really be free from difficulties and suffering." This would help them to see their teachers as regular humans, with pain, with lives outside the classroom, and not beyond error and emotion. I may also focus extra lovingkindness on someone in need, such as an ill grandmother. The child can then be helped to see that when there is need, you step outside yourself and you give extra.
In spreading the lovingkindness geographically, I try to walk the line between it becoming a mental exercise ("Where is that town?" "What is a continent?") and being so general as not to invoke feelings of expansiveness ("Oh, we're at that spreading thing that I don't really understand, I'll just lie here."). This grows in sophistication with age. But one must be careful not to turn it into a geography lesson, although a little intrigue doesn't hurt ("I send lovingkindness across all of Asia, Africa, Australia; across all the oceans to all the creatures in the sea"). The feeling of expansiveness is paramount here. From me, to them, to all on earth, to all in the universe, to all in all directions, with no exceptions. This helps the heart grow and soften. It takes children (or us) out of themselves in a gentle way.
This practice is slightly different from the one I do with my adult meditation students. There are nuances that I adjust with age and mood, to make the meditation something that kids can relate to directly and emotionally. As they mature and their world grows, the scope of the meditation can grow and still be congruent with that world.
Questions come up with kids that may not come up with adults, like the time my youngest wanted to send lovingkindness to "Yellow Blankie." First, I said to him that Yellow Blankie doesn't have a consciousness. This did not impress him. Then I said we'd send lovingkindness to Yellow Blankie, figuring that "all beings" could include his fabric friend if my son so chose. However, when we began the lovingkindness practice, it went like this:
ME : "I send lovingkindness to Dad and Mom . . ." MY SON : ". . . and Yellow Blankie." ME : "OK, and Yellow Blankie."
As my eldest son matured and his emotional understanding was expanded, I gently expanded the meditation. Compassion is an extension of love, further along this trajectory of going beyond ourselves to embrace others.
So the eldest may have been instructed, after sending lovingkindness to all beings, to let himself feel the suffering of others, to let his heart resonate with the pain of others. This was in a gentle and non-dogmatic way. There is a sense of respect and maturity that he may have felt, albeit subtly, for being able to grow in his practice in this way. I can't say for certain, but it is my hope that this compassion will grow within my sons as they reach deeper into the rich and complex social world of young adulthood. I hope it will thus act as counterbalance to the arrogance and judgment that comes with the territory. I particularly hope that they can develop a true compassion for those less fortunate than themselves, people without enough to eat, without adequate clothing or housing, people who are in war zones or are stricken by disease. In our privileged society, where many of us don't see the outer reaches of human suffering, I want actively to instill the capacity for compassion. The compassion itself will grow with their experience. I try to do this practice without too much attachment to results or to the process itself. If my children decide they don't want to do this anymore, I hope I can let go of it lightly. But for now, as for the past sixteen years, they value this practice of lovingkindness.
Meditation
Lovingkindness with children
Really love yourself.Want yourself to be happy.Think:I love myself.
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Source Gregory Kramer - Metta Program
