Not Zen 205: A Parent Way

A Parent Way

Across from a busy road, in the shade of peach and poplar trees, park planners made a clearing and planted grass. They built play areas for children. They placed benches so parents and other caretakers could rest as they watched. Soon enough, the local parents came. Their children played. More and more people traveled for miles to enjoy the park.

From a bookstore across the street, members of the philosophy club came with their books. They sat at the picnic tables. They read quotes from Zhuangzi and debated their meaning. New to the philosophy, they wondered how one would go about putting the Tao into action.

The discussion was led by a woman who needed to let her children play while she talked. She had read Zhuangzi many times and she was able to tell the group about aspects of the Tao, its history, and its practice. However, in an hour she reached the end of the time she had allotted. Her children began to interrupt her.

“I should go now,” she announced. “Please continue the book discussion.”

Several other members left with her but the rest, although they past their scheduled time, looked around them and decided to talk about nature for a while. The felt the natural world was related to the Way. In any case, it was a beloved subject on its own. They couldn't help but notice and comment on the park and the trees around them. Soon, though, all the members had to leave except for three, who had no other obligations.

The two younger members discussed their adventures outdoors, their observations about the natural world, and the Way, while the eldest mostly listened and contributed a few observations about people. As they talked, a young couple wandered over with their toddler and a crying infant. They parked their covered stroller, infant still crying inside, and the woman left with her toddler. The man, sitting on a bench next to the stroller, got out a book to read.

"Can't he quiet his baby?" asked one of the members of the philosophy club.

"Why did the mother leave?" asked the young lady who was also a member. She scowled at the mother as she disappeared with her toddler down a trail in the park.

"You haven't mentioned the other children," said the eldest. "I notice some who are well-behaved, some who are not, some who are loud, some quiet, some who flee their parents as soon as they can, and others who hang close by."

His observation sparked a debate on the best way to raise a child. The younger members of the club had not yet had children of their own. As it happened, they took opposite sides on parenting philosophies. One supported an authoritarian approach while the other proposed a reasonable, permissive approach. Each of them pointed to parents and children around them, citing examples, while their elder tried to remind them of other ways.

"When a child gets old enough, a moral approach can work," he suggested. "It's firm but reasonable."

"What, bothering your child about right and wrong all the time?"

"Yes, exactly."

Meanwhile, the infant cried in its baby carriage. Its father sat close by, reading his book and occasionally peeking under the hood of the carriage to see his child.

"Shouldn't he do something?" asked the younger man.

"No, it sounds like a teething cry," said the elder.

"Couldn't the mother come back and do something?" the woman asked.

"Not even a mother can fix sore gums." He knew it was likely the parents had taken whatever steps they could. 

After another minute, the cry changed. The child's father closed the book, stood, and rummaged underneath the stroller. When he pulled out a bag of changing supplies, he spilled it. The smaller items bounced away from him. The senior member of the philosophy club rose. He picked up pieces of the changing kit, handed them to the father, did it again, and did it one more time laughing about how many pieces there were. Soon, he and the father traded murmured phrases the others couldn't hear, followed by a shared laugh. The father changed the infant's diaper and, for a moment, the infant stopped crying. The senior man returned to his seat at the shared philosophy club table. The others chuckled as he took his place.

"Was that a moral approach?" asked the younger man.

"It doesn't answer the question about approach at all," said the woman. "It doesn't tell us anything about which way will win."

The older man thought about it for a moment. He rubbed his chin.

"The way of taking an appropriate action, whatever it is," he suggested, "is a winning one."