PSLE: Losing Control and Gaining Forgiveness (Climax and End)

I have chanced upon this blog entry. It is well-written and would love to share it.


I slapped my son last night.
Not once, not twice but so many times that I lost count.
For every 5 seconds that he did not apologise for biting his cousin, my unforgiving hand stung his tiny face once.
Wails of unspoken pain filled the silent dining room as the little boy cried louder with every pelt rained on him.
My heart hardened despite it being torn apart with my violent actions, scalded by his hot tears.
Why did I hit my son?
Where did my patience, calmness or positivity go?
I felt my meditation practice go down the deep sunken hole of shame when my anger broke loose of its chains.

Shame.

The loss of face when my disciplined child hurt another boy over some boxes of candy that were not meant for them.
The disappointment when my courteous child did not apologise for his mistake immediately.
The disgust when the child’s behaviour was seen as a reflection of my poor parenting.
I could have taken him aside, in a room and lectured him.
Yet the monster in me emerged.
I naively thought it was subdued with these months of intentional mindful practice.
The boy cowered in fear and finally apologised, after enduring a rain of slaps.
I hauled him straight to bed and he fought hard as he thought an apology meant everything resume back to normal. He can read, play and enjoy his night.
I did not let things go back to normal.
He had to learn his lesson.
He had to pay the price for hurting someone.
I had to hurt him more.
The cries continued for an hour more; slowly but gradually, he learnt that crying did not appease his mother.
Staying silent did.


Is that how we learn to deal with pain?
How do I teach my child to deal with pain?
No screaming, no shouting. Be SILENT.
Breathe in and breathe out.
There must be a better way to deal with pain, I need to find out how.
I write to release pain. My carthasis sometimes hurts others and my pen has never meant to be poisonous, at least that is what I think. This may not be the best way but that’s one of the ways how I cope.

As the melancholic night went deeper into sadness, the cries subsided and my mind became clearer, I apologised to my son and sought his forgiveness.

“I am sorry for slapping you. Can you forgive me?”
“I forgive you, Mama.”
“Why is it so easy for you to forgive me?”
“Because you are my Mama. I love you, Mama.”

I love you, my son. Your heart is so much bigger than mine. I am blessed.




http://omystory.wordpress.com/2014/09/03/losing-control-and-learning-forgiveness/