The Zen in BenBenZen

I heard a lyric in a song today - "ha ha ha, bless your soul, you really think you're in control".  That made me think.  As many of you who know me would guess...  well, there's an inkling of a tendency there for me...  Oh, let's face it, I like to be in control!  I like to think that I have a way of determining how things will go in my life.  My first realization that I will have very little control of my life came in the form of a tiny little baby girl, who has told me what my life was going to be like from the moment she entered it!  And she still does.  I will record her bossing me and Aaron around and post it on here - just to give you an idea of the force we are dealing with!!  She knows what she wants and has the energy to go after it - even if it takes all day ;)  Hopefully we will learn how to channel that so that she does get everything she wants in life :)

Ben has been the catalyst for a different kind of realization that I am not in control.  I have no control over how fast he will develop.  When will he crawl?  When will he say the words, "mama"?  We have no idea.  The therapists and doctors give me exercises to do with him and pills to give him.  In the hopes that, someday, he WILL crawl and say the words I so desperately want to hear - "mama".

When you go for a hike, there is often a well-trodden trail.  It may go through dense brush or through open fields, but the trail is always obvious.  These are the trails most people follow.  We see each other on these trails and greet each other in passing, always assuming that the other person is doing exactly what we are doing - walking outdoors, getting exercise, soaking in nature.

They say that Ben will progress, only slower than most other kids.  He's on one of those trails, but just farther behind.  He will catch up eventually.  He's just going at his own pace.

I don't buy that analogy anymore.  Ben is not on any of those clearly marked, well-used trails.  He veered off early onto a little-known and unmarked trail.  This trail is covered with brush that he and I have to clear away.  I am behind him, desperately trying to clear the brush so that he can proceed without extra work on his part.  Pushing my way down this trail I get confused.  But Ben doesn't.  He seems to know where he's going and is confused that I don't know.  He turns around to look at me with these eyes that tell me that he knows exactly what's going on.  Why don't I know?   

I think this paradidm shift is extremely important for a number of reasons.  It gives me the awareness to allow for the fact that Ben is trying to communicate in ways that I'd never thought of.  It also gives me space to learn about his way of communication, his way of seeing the world. 

Is this Zen?  Is this acceptance of Ben?  I've been ashamed of my behavior for the past two years.  I've been ashamed that I'm having this much trouble accepting Ben EXACTLY as he is.  But for a mother, it's a tough line to straddle.  I want to push him to be his best, I want to expect the most from him.  But I have to do it on HIS trail.  Not on my familiar trail.