Brewing Spicy Chai Tea

It's with great fondness that I remember being introduced to my first cup of Chai Tea. It was my first Tara Puja at Langri Tangpa Centre, Brisbane. Back then, I'd only begun to explore Tibetan Buddhism and that Puja opened up a whole new way of life for me. After an hour of chanting, prayer and multiple mandala offerings, the gathering paused for hot Chai Tea and everyone shared their dedications for those in need, those who were sick and many sentient beings currently facing great obstacles. As we all nursed our cups of hot chai, there was a sense of communal sharing and well-being. This is a slight variation on the chai tea offered at Langri Tangpa Centre.

You will need:

• 1 Small saucepan
• 1 Tea Strainer
• 1.5 Tablespoons Alchemy Chai Elixir Syrup
• 1 Tablespoon Your favourite loose leaf Chai Tea
• 1 Cup Pure Soy Milk (you want to use the best soy milk available. Diluted soy milk just doesn't do your chai justice!)
• ¼ Cups Water
• 1 Your favourite Cup / Mug

 

Combine the Chai Elixir, Soy Milk, Water & Loose Tea Leaves in your mug. Feel free to use more or less Chai Elixir, for a sweeter or milder chai. 

 

Pour the mixture into your saucepan and simmer on low heat for 5 mins. Don't leave your chai unattended. You don't want it to burn!

 

When the chai starts to steam and you see bubbling at the edge of the saucepan, you know it's ready to take off the heat. 

 

This is an important step: pour the chai mixture from saucepan into your cup, then back from the cup into the saucepan. Repeat this 5 times. What you're doing is aerating the Chai Tea and it'll taste delicious.

 

Lastly, pour the mixture through your tea strainer into your mug. It should be nice and bubbly from the aeration. 

And now your Chai Tea is ready to enjoy. I hope you like this delicious recipe as much as I do. But just between you and me; Chai Tea will always tastes better at the Puja celebrations at Langri Tangpa Centre. Probably because it's offered first to the Buddhas and you share it with the wonderful folk of Langri Tangpa Centre. Cheers!

 

Essential Buddhism for Parents: Loving-Kindness

So your baby is suffering from colic or cutting his new tooth. You've tried a bath, distractions, a baby massage, singing that favourite lullaby (or better yet, your favourite mantra OM MANI PADME HUM) and you've even given panadol. Yet still your child is unhappy and you're both equally exhausted and close to tears. What's left for a Buddhist Parent to do? While we all know that even illnesses are impermanent, it sure doesn't feel like it when your little one is distressed. You want to do everything you can to soothe them and hopefully help everyone get some sleep. Believe it or not, this is the perfect time to pull out your Buddhist-Parent-Toolkit and open it. In this marvellous bag of hands-on practices, there are many tools available to you. While they don't guarantee instant remedies, what they do offer is a whole lot of emotional healing to a family in crisis-mode. For this post, we're going to focus on: Loving-Kindness. This practice is more than a soother for distressed-babies. It's also great for calming busy-anxious Mums & Dads, especially if you're having trouble getting to sleep.

Loving-Kindness

Have you ever paused to observe what happens to you, when your baby gets really distressed and cries? I've noticed that my body "braces" and ever so subtly, I resist against the crying. I don't like the sound of my baby crying. Even emotionally, I'm battening down the hatches as if a category 5 cyclone is about to hit town. Mentally, I immediately wish I was anywhere but here, right now, with this whole unpleasant episode. However this kind of reaction is problematic. After all, how can my baby relax if his own Mother is resisting against this unpleasant situation? And if Mummy is resisting, then what does baby do? He resists as well. So now you have two unhappy people, both wishing things were different and of course, the third wheel in the situation: Aversion.

Loving-Kindness is a very simple, yet beautiful practice that allows you to lean into the discomfort of a situation (ie crying, distressed baby) and open your heart. Little by little, you learn to gently hold the suffering of your child with tenderness and compassion. And this kind of tender-hearted holding is so invaluable. Not only are you teaching your baby that they are safe, even when they're not feeling their best, but it can mean the difference between a rough night or a horrendous night.

Kind words can be short and easy to speak but their echoes are truly endless. ~ Mother Teresa

One of the easiest ways I've found to practice Loving-Kindness is to use a little phrase which you can quietly repeat to yourself or even sing to your baby. I use four lines, which I adapted from the wonderful book: "Mindful Birthing: Training the Mind, Body, and Heart for Childbirth and Beyond" by Nancy Bardack.

May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you be at peace.
May you be at ease.

I will often sing this to Ethan when he's upset and needs help settling. In fact, I've already used this practice twice tonight when he woke from his sleep especially unsettled. The words themselves are not so important, although they should remind you of what you're trying to achieve: an open, gentle heart. I chose these words because they resonated well with me and allowed me to tap into my loving-kindness, so I can send it to my son. As I sing these words, I really do wish all these things for him and more. It helps me to let go of my resistance and to relax into the situation, as it is, without judgement, resistance or my own agenda. My son and I are finally free to just be present with whatever is troubling him. Being present doesn't mean that his distress immediately goes away. But I can often feel his body relaxing against mine when the loving-kindness releases me from my own tension. More importantly, loving-kindness brings us into the present and there's a certain spaciousness that comes with that. I can see the situation clearly when previously, my wisdom was clouded by resistance. This offers me the chance to take appropriate action and make the best of things.

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness. ~ His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama

There have also been many nights where I've been so wired from disrupted sleep that I found myself unable to relax. Even though I was dead-tired, I just couldn't let myself sleep. Loving-kindness is also great for this. I repeat those very same words to myself and wish myself well. This can often be hard for Mums. We spend so much time putting our baby and family members first, that we rarely put aside time to put ourselves first. I'm re-learning how dangerous this can be. On Monday, I had a sore throat and didn't think too much of it because I had to care for Ethan. It wasn't until Thursday that I finally dragged myself to the GP only to discover that I had severe tonsillitis. Loving-Kindness has room for everyone, especially for ourselves! It's dangerous to try and take care of others when we don't even take care of ourselves. So don't be afraid to offer yourself some loving-kindness. We deserve it as much as our babies. After all, we were once babies too.

When you have time, you can expand this practice by thinking of other Mums who are going through their own difficulties as they care for their children. As you repeat the lines of loving-kindness, open your heart and wish the best for them. I like to think of this as "tapping into the universal resevoir of parenthood" which is an inexhaustable source of love. I let my imagination go riot and I'll imagine all the problems of other parents disappearing and big smiles of relief & peace spreading across their faces. I'll think of patients in hospital, animals who are suffering, people who are alone with mental illness, or even a friend who might be going through some difficulty. There are always people in need of loving-kindness and while you cannot make their problems disappear, just the very wish that others could be happier is something the world desperately needs. Not only will it bring peace to your heart but it brings healing to those who need it.

I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. I will not refuse to do the something I can do. ~ Helen Keller

Buddhist Parents sometimes despair that they don't have time for formal sitting. While that can be true, we are blessed with a multitude of situations where we can practice Buddhism that's all hands-on, baby-in-arms or on-hip, one dirty nappy at a time. This practice is raw, merciless & relentless yet exquisitely rewarding. It's just a matter of recognising the opportunity and remembering to practice.

Do you have a variation of loving-kindness that you practice as a parent? What are your experiences? And if you haven't tried this practice yet, please do and tell me how you go. I wish you joy in this beautiful practice and may it bring peace to your mind and that of your baby.

Yours truly,
Demi.

A Mindfulness Retreat in Teething

Zen Master Ethan: aged 9.5 months

For the last few days, my Zen Master (aka son Ethan, aged 9.5months) has been teething. By day, you wouldn't notice anything different. He goes about his play, flashes us his trademark grin before crawling with glee towards a toy/target of choice. But as the afternoon draws closer, there are cracks in the Zen Master's facade. He fights his naps with unhappy grizzling. He even pushes away his bottle or the spoon of baby puree (a sure sign that something is wrong because Ethan is the kind of baby who wolfs down his food with sheer zeal).

Things get worse when the dreaded 5pm rolls around. By now, the Zen Master is definitely Not Happy, Jan. He tails my ankles and tugs at my pants, wanting to be picked up. Um... sure if it weren't for the fact that I was trying to make dinner. So begins the game of distractions. Look Ethan, it's Peppa Pig! Look at this metal dish and plastic spoon - isn't it fantastic? Oh wow, we haven't played with the colourful plastic blocks for aaaagggeeesss! Then sheepishly, I sneak away and continue with making dinner (uh, where was I again?!) while my Zen Master frowns at the sad-excuse-of-a-distraction I've set down before him. We both know it's a poor replacement for what he really wanted - Me.

“Watching teething babies is like watching over a thermonuclear reactor--it is best done in shifts, by well-rested people.” ― Anthony Doerr, Four Seasons in Rome: On Twins, Insomnia, and the Biggest Funeral in the History of the World

The mood momentarily improves when Dad walks through the front door. Both Ethan and I are grinning ear-to-ear (okay, I'm so overjoyed I'm practically doing a jig) as Ethan eagerly crawls for a hug from his Da-Da. The three of us share dinner but the excitement is finally too much for the Zen Master and he begins to lose it. He's finally buggered and since he's no longer playing and exploring the house, he's become all-too-aware of the bother of his new tooth. It's such a pressing matter that he cries for Mum (*sigh* yep, that's me) and Dad to fix it A.S.A.P. So dutifully, I pull out the children's panadol and teething gel and administer both, neither of which do much to placate the unhappy grizzling that's filling the small rooms of our house. I sing nursery rhymes, play quiet hand-games, look through picture books, (yep, I'm pulling out every trick I know and beginning to sweat as I dig dangerously close to the bottom of that bag) but still I can't get my Zen Master to sleep. Craig tries to calm Ethan down with quiet soothing words but our Zen Master isn't having a bar of it. He fitfully collapses into unconsciousness and it's not long before us-exhausted-parents join him there.

But of course, babies and their parents don't sleep when there's teeth on the way. It's not long before our slumber is shattered with an ear-piercing cry and one of us trudges out of the bed (whoever can find the most energy) to reassure Ethan that all is well. But this isn't one of those nights where a simple butt-pat and cuddle will fix everything. It's more of a process that takes anywhere from 30mins to an hour and when Ethan finally does go back to sleep, it's usually in our bed and he becomes sandwiched between his two zombie parents. When Ethan stirs and cries, we both stir with him. Even when he's sleeping, one of us will get kicked or unexpectedly flailed in the face, comical if it weren't for the fact that neither of us have had a decent block of sleep in over a week. Oh and did I mention that teething babies do a lot of diarrhoea poo? That normally wouldn't break me, until today that is, when I discovered that the poo had also leaked from his nappy and run down the inside of his pants. Thankfully, it was a Sunday and Craig was on hand to take Ethan aside while I had a teary sulk of 'Why, why me?'

When you can do nothing, what can you do? - Zen Koan

Maybe you're beginning to wonder where exactly my Buddhist practice fitted into all this? Sadly, when the Zen Master doesn't sleep, there's little energy to invest in sitting meditation. Instead, what I've discovered is that when your baby is teething, your practice is kicked into Hard-Core Mindfulness Bootcamp. It's 24/7 in mindfulness training and the reminder ain't no peaceful *ting* of a tranquil tibetan bell, but the loud, intense cry of your baby. In this bootcamp, there are no scheduled time-outs. You don't know when the meditation ends or really, when it began. You never voluntarily handed over your right to TV, your mobile or reading your favourite book or watching that TV show you liked. It kinda just happened and before you know it, you're neck deep in baby tears, poop, nappy rash & pools of drool. Caring for a teething baby is the ultimate practice for any parent yearning for Enlightenment. It exposes your flaws like no other practice and pushes at your buttons, breaking any pride you might have had in a matter of micro-seconds. You will have to draw on every skill you have ever fostered as a practioner - mantra recitations, sound meditation, loving-kindness meditation, tong-len meditation, sheer simple awareness and maybe even creatively invent an all new meditative practice altogether. And like all retreats, the breakthroughs are not always soft and gentle. There will definitely be tears. But there will be also be insights, to be gleaned at the most unexpected of hours.

And as abruptly as the mindfulness retreat began, it ends. The Zen Master finally sleeps soundly. A serene expression returns to his baby face. There is a glimmer of white through those sore red gums. Predictability once more makes its way back into our home. At least, until the next tooth makes its appearance.

To all the parents, carers and brothers & sisters of a teething baby, to all their neighbours too; may you have sleep. May you be happy. May you be well. May your hearts open in its own rightful time and supportively hold all in your household in the boundless compassion, wisdom and love of Buddhahood.

Until next time, lots of love, Demi.

PS - Happy Birthday Your Holiness!! Seeing your face on TV, Google & Dharma Books always reminds me to smile and be happy. You're a fantastic inspiration for joyous effort so Thank you!