Conscious Choice: Childlessness: A Spiritual Path

May 2005 | Body & Mind Health

Childlessness: A Spiritual Path

by Darlene E. Paris

May is the month of Mother’s Day and I know what to expect: Total strangers will come up to me and wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. I’m often mistaken for a mother. I’m told I have a motherly deportment — that I possess the kind of smile that reminds them of a mother’s love — warm, compassionate and kind. So, quite naturally, people assume I have kids. But I don’t.

Every Mother’s Day I’m reminded of my decision to remain childless. Yet, I don’t envy women who receive Mother’s Day cards or are taken out to dinner by their children. I’m content celebrating the day with my own mother since I decided early in my life that I didn’t want to have any kids.

I hesitated to write about this because I thought I might offend some, including those who desperately want to have children and can’t. But this month I would like to recognize women like me who do not have kids by choice.

I’m well into my adult years, but the conviction to remain childless solidified at age 16 after reading Toni Morrison’s book Sula. I didn’t particularly understand the title character, but I was captivated when she declared she wasn’t interested in having babies because she was too busy giving birth to herself.

And just like raising children, giving birth to yourself takes time.

I had watched my mother, a widow at age 40, sacrifice her own interests to meet my needs and those of my little sister, Deede. On top of teaching school and performing domestic tasks such as cooking and cleaning, mama would accompany my friends and me to our after-school and weekend activities so we’d have a way to get back home.

She took passes on buying new things for herself to save enough money so Deede and I could attend college. She decided not to date because she thought a relationship would interfere with the task of raising kids. Through my young eyes, motherhood seemed to be a role of self-sacrifice, so I decided to adopt Sula’s philosophy as my own.

These days, it’s not unusual to find women like me, both married and single, who have decided that motherhood isn’t their lot. They remain childless for a variety of reasons, including career aspirations. Some are content to regard other people’s children as their own. A few admit they haven’t found a man with whom they’d like to get pregnant. Then there are those who simply admit they have little tolerance for children and choose to live life without them.

My reasons for not wanting to have children became crystal clear as I got older. It had nothing to do with not liking children. An elementary school teacher for seven years, I loved working with kids, but I also enjoyed that it was during a definite time: from 8 a.m. until 3 p.m. When the school bell rang at the end of the day, they rejoiced as they bolted out the door heading for home, and I celebrated as I drove to the nearest yoga studio where I stretched away the tension and stress of my day so I could return to school refreshed the next morning.

To put it plainly, I simply decided not to have babies because I wanted to develop myself spiritually. Some people believe that having children makes you more mature and wise. But pursuing spiritual practices with children takes organization and planning — two skills I’ve yet to master. I’m also working on becoming a more conscious and compassionate human being, and for me that means spending time every day in silent meditation.

I’m so committed to this that after working 10 years for a big publishing company, I quit my job and lived for three months in a meditation community where I practiced meditation techniques both day and night. This would have been very difficult for me to do if I had to be concerned about caring for children. I’ve also been able to travel at the spur of the moment to yoga conferences, take sojourns to India for a couple of months and live in silence for a week at a meditation ashram.

A meditation teacher once told me the only thing we can give a child is who and what we are: “The most important work anyone can do is to first dissolve all that is false within you, such as jealousy, possessiveness, insecurity and fear, so that your true essence can come forth. When that happens, a woman can truly offer something of value to her children.”

Throughout my adult life, I’ve been working on self-acceptance — feeling OK with myself exactly as I am. I grew up being very critical of myself, feeling I had to do everything perfectly. If I didn’t get all A’s on my report card, I cried. As an adult, if I didn’t get accolades from my boss, I’d be depressed. My need for approval was so strong that if I didn’t feel accepted I grew frustrated and ate.

I realized that if I’m not OK with the way I am, how could I expect to impart unconditional love toward a child? So I’ve decided to work on becoming a woman who is able to love unconditionally.

I know that there are people who have managed to develop themselves spiritually with their children by their sides. Some mothers in my meditation group even bring their children to our events, and encourage them to draw or color while we sit for an hour with our legs crossed, chanting.

A few are courageous enough to hold meditation sessions in their homes while their teenaged offspring blast their music. When this happened once, some members of the group used the loud music as an opportunity to become more silent and still. But I wanted to open my eyes and scream, “be quiet!” I was relieved when the child’s mother finally rose, rapped on her son’s door, and demanded that he turn the music off. But even in the ensuing silence it was difficult for me to resume sitting. For the remaining minutes my mind was restless.

Yes, I know that motherhood, in and of itself, is also a path of deep spiritual growth. And I know that there are disadvantages that come along with a decision not to give birth. I believe being a mother is one of the greatest honors of all and allows you to express the qualities of the divine feminine and nurturer in a very special relationship. But it’s a journey I’ve chosen not to take because I also believe it’s not the only way to travel the path of unconditional love.

Darlene E. Paris is a Chicago-based writer specializing in spiritual matters.

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