In April 2020, in the highly charged early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, Facebook introduced a seventh reaction icon, a care icon, which showed a face with scrunched-up eyes hugging a red heart. Regardless of your relationship with social media, its pervasive influence cannot be denied.
The reviews were mixed, some considered it sappy, and others enjoyed another option to show how they felt. However, over time, it became just another icon that one can use to engage with posts from friends and family.
Teach us to care and not care.
T. S. Eliot, Ash wednesday
Over a year from the distressing predicament of that time, the irony is not lost on me. I found myself thrust into an intense season of caregiving in 2020, with both my young children home 24/7. This happened in parallel with teaching more classes in mindfulness meditation than I have in my entire life, long-distance care taking of aging parents, running a home, etc. Many of you know the drill because you lived it too.
In Buddhist practice, we are familiar with both the intentionality of ‘care’ or a ‘caring heart,’ and the energetic movement towards ‘giving care’ or ‘acting with care.’ The brahmaviharas, or divine abodes, are a rich place to deepen in both. I would also argue that one can look through the entirety of the teachings and find the thread of ‘care’ weaving through. This is a bold statement that has not actually been verified by me yet, but I can point you to Stephen Batchelor who suggests in his thoroughly researched piece The Buddha’s Last Word: Care that “the word “care” somehow synthesizes everything the Buddha taught,” and in the Buddha’s famous last words, “Conditions are subject to decay. Work out your salvation with care,” this echo is loud and clear.
The Buddha is singular in his encouragement that the most radical act of care we can engage in, is to cultivate our own hearts and minds. This is the bedrock and foundation of formal and daily-life lay practice. I invite you to draw inspiration from a number of sources, and then embark on a personal process of embodied discovery to find out what your ‘go to’ practices are. As we focus on our own healing and learn to continually resource ourselves, it’s important to go beyond appearances, dig deeper, and be flexible to adapt to circumstances. For example, doing one’s taxes instead of avoiding them by taking a yoga class might actually be ‘self-care’ as you meet discomfort and anxiety in the present moment.
Become consciously aware of the other types of caregiving you engage in on a daily basis. Watering a plant or calling a friend are both acts of care. Appamāda from the Pali or ‘care’ as translated by Batchelor has a tonal quality of an unwavering commitment to what is good, and I would add, becoming conscious of it and then growing that awareness. Soaking in its benevolent blessings rather than waddling about in stories of lack, self-judgement, or self-criticism.
If healthcare workers, educators, parents, and sandwich generation adults who tend to elder and dying parents are the unsung heroes of the pandemic, why is caregiving in this country ignored, overlooked, underpaid, denigrated, and downright life-threatening? Begin to recognize, acknowledge, and advocate for caregivers all around you. If you are involved in intense caregiving yourself, remember to rest and fill your own cup; ask for help so you can make space to do this. When I was preparing to write this piece, a wise dharma friend said that she considers caregivers as the original Bodhisattvas. May we see, celebrate, and be inspired by Bodhisattvas all around us, and in ourselves.