Transcendental meditation

A random memory.

My mother went through a phase of believing that what I needed were lessons in transcendental meditation. She had seen some newspaper article about TM, when it was all the rage, and she thought it would be good for what ailed me.

She had a lot of such phases. I generally resisted. There was reason for this, other than sultry passive-aggressive rebellion. There was that, too.

But the chief reason I balked at TM was the sense that it would badly backfire on me. I would start, become attached to it, and then in another swing of her own phases my mother would decide to stop it, and I'd be getting lectures about how much time I was wasting with this silly pose and mantra.

In time, she did forget about the wonderfulness of TM and she did pass on to something else, as I had expected.

Mom died about ten years ago, and I offer this recollection of course with regret for the fact that we never really managed to communicate honestly with one another. Her phases as to how to deal with her troublesome son [actually, any of her five children, though I held a special place in her agita] were a symptom of real troublesomeness on my/our part, and some real incapacities on hers.

But ... hell ... I'll conclude on two points. (1) parenting ain't for wimps. God bless those who attempt it. (2) Neither is growing up through puberty. God bless those who haven't gotten through yet.

And I'm told the three great mantra are: owaaaa, tana, and siam.

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