This comes from Brenda Shoshanna’s book Zen Miracles: Finding Peace in an Insane World.

“There is a wonderful story about a great Zen Master who was called by his brother and asked to come home and help with his nephew.  The boy had become a rebel, staying out late at night, smoking, drinking, and making trouble.  No matter how hard others tried to change and help him, he would listen to no one.  His behavior grew worse daily, and the family was frightened.

“The Zen Master agreed to visit for one week.  He arrived at his brother’s home and just went along with the daily routine, spoke pleasantly to the nephew about this and that, never mentioning his behavior.  The nephew kept on waiting for his uncle to reprimand him.  Instead the Master accompanied his nephew on his trips here and there.  They spent time together, and still the Master said nothing.

“Finally, the week passed and the time came for the Master to go home.  The nephew stood close by, waiting for the scolding.  Instead, as the Master bent over to tie his shoes, he began to silently cry.  The nephew saw teardrops rolling down the Master’s cheeks and was deeply shaken.  He could not move or say a word.  From that time on, his behavior changed.  He could not act the old way, even if he wanted to.

“The Master lived in Parental Mind, where all beings were accepted.  He did not live in a world of blame.  He had no need to judge, reject, or scold his nephew.  Feeling so accepted and loved, the nephew could not help but open himself to another way of life.”

Sigh.  I’m trying.

This is my parenting now…role-playing with Liliana, to make sure she understands.  It’s surprising how transparent she is when “playing.”

Me: I’m Liliana, and you’re Mama, okay?

Liliana (enthusiastically): Okay!

Me (as L): I don’t want to put my coat on!

L (astonished, with a pause): But you have to.  When Candace [one of her teachers] says, “Put your coat on,” you have to.

Me (as L): But I don’t want to.  And I don’t want to wear my socks in the classroom, and I don’t want to wear my hat and mittens outside.

L (playing along now): But, sweetheart, you have to.  [Here, she caresses my face.]  You have to.  You say, “Yes, Candace,” then you put your coat on.

Me (resignedly): Okay.  Yes, Mama.

Aha!  The little rascal.  She does understand.  You could have fooled me.