Show me a mother who hasn’t been humbled by being a new parent, and I will show you a person in denial. Even those who refuse to admit how little they knew when they became a parent, I know, were humbled; they have merely misplaced the humility for the time being.

While very few of us love to admit being wrong, I am grateful that each time I realize I am wrong, misinformed, unaware, or clueless; I am usually learning it from my child. He is definitely the most patient and easiest-to-please teacher I’ve ever had.

How amazing is it that from the very beginning of the relationship the learning is reciprocal? Yet the things we teach our child – how to count, how to read and write, how to tie their shoes, while very useful skills, seem so inconsequential given what they teach us – humility, patience, the unending depths of unconditional love.

Each and every day we are like two babies, figuring out the world together. While he is learning how to roll over and to grab things, I am learning to marvel at the simple act of rolling from back to belly. I am learning how miraculous it is that our bodies are capable of so many different movements. I am learning to appreciate the ease with which I reach for and grab whatever I want.

The other day on the Seoul City subway, we were standing next to an older gentleman who was making faces at the little one, trying to get him to smile. My sweet boy is very generous and easy with his smiles, and so he obliged, much to the delight of this gentleman. Korean culture is deeply entrenched in Confucianism and a major part of that is respect for elders.

As the man was giggling at the little one’s smiles, I was observing the man and his shock of white hair, wondering what gems of wisdom he had and wishing I could communicate with him. The man, smiling, said something to me in Korean. When I apologized for not being able to understand him and explained I am still learning he spat out the following english words/phrases: you, me, like him, no war. I smiled and nodded in agreement, and then he very excitedly grabbed out of thin air the word he had been searching for and yelled, “Teacher!” as he pointed at my baby.

I guess we don’t need a lot of shared language to learn important lessons from our elders after all. Simply, learn from the children. The littlest gurus may be small, but their lessons are huge. My boy is a natural yogi, embodying all of the qualities that I try so very hard to cultivate. He is forever in the present moment, always focused, and completely uninhibited in his body. How do I preserve that? Does it go away naturally or is it nurtured out of us?

What do you think, Moms? And what lessons have you learned from your little teachers?

This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Ms V. in South Korea.

Ms. V. (South Korea)

Ms. V returned from a 3-year stint in Seoul, South Korea and is now living in the US in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her partner, their two kids, three ferocious felines, and a dog named Avon Barksdale. She grew up all over the US, mostly along the east coast, but lived in New York City longer than anywhere else, so considers NYC “home.” Her love of travel has taken her all over the world and to all but four of the 50 states. Ms. V is contemplative and sacred activist, exploring the intersection of yoga, new monasticism, feminism and social change. She is the co-director and co-founder of Samdhana-Karana Yoga: A Healing Arts Center, a non-profit yoga studio and the spiritual director for Hab Community. While not marveling at her beautiful children, she enjoys reading, cooking, and has dreams of one day sleeping again.

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