Tend and Befriend

A few weeks ago, my daughter recommended that I read a book on parenting called THE GARDENER AND THE CARPENTER by Alison Gopnik. I assumed that her recommendation was innocent, that this was not just a subtle way to point out all the things I could have done differently as a parent or should do as a grandparent, so I got a copy of the book for my Kindle.

Spoiler alert.

Gardener is the correct answer. The carpenter parent is the one who thinks they know just what their child should turn out to be and tries to make sure they become that. The gardener parent is the one who creates the conditions for their child to become what they are. Of course nothing is ever that simple, but Gopnik weaves together her professional knowledge as a neuroscientist who studies child behavior and her role as a grandmother to introduce some fascinating perspectives.

Gopnik begins her book by asserting that ‘parenting’ should not be used as a verb. Being a parent is not a task you can do like fixing a car or cooking dinner. Parenting is not a kind of work that we turn on and turn off. ‘Instead, to be a parent—to care for a child—is to be part of a profound and unique human relationship, to engage in a particular kind of love.’ This is in the section entitled ‘From Parenting to Being a Parent.’ She is encouraging a shift from our culture’s obsession with doing and performing, to parenting as a way of being. Sounds good to me for parenting as well as most aspects of being human.

Gopnik explores the caring bonds between parents and children in detail; from the evolutionary necessities to the biochemical mechanisms. The bond between humans and their children is very different, both in length and quality, from the bonds of other mammals and their offspring. (She makes no reference to turtles’ parenting style at all, though I know that there were some days as a parent when I thought the idea of just leaving the eggs buried in the sand and trusting the little ones to find their way to the ocean seemed like a really attractive parenting strategy.)

One of the factors in bonding between parents and their children that scientist are exploring is the role of oxytocin, sometimes known as the ‘tend and befriend’ hormone. This is the hormone that floods mothers while birth and is closely related to feelings of trust, commitment and attachment. But oxytocin is not just a one-time gift to mothers to encourage them to care for their helpless infants.

The activity of caring itself produces oxytocin and related chemicals.   Fathers (and grandparents?) who are significantly involved in caring for their infants show higher levels of oxytocin and more interest in their infants that fathers who are disengaged. Oxytocin is also related to romance and sexual love. Oxytocin levels rise with hugging and touching.

This all makes me suspect that many of us, during this time of the coronavirus social distancing are significantly low in our oxytocin levels. One way to mitigate against this is perhaps to consciously do more tending of what is around us, whether we are parents or not.

During our Zen training retreats, sesshin, we always devote part of the day to samu, caretaking practice. Washing the dishes and sweeping the floors are considered equally important to sitting in meditation. After reading this book, I wonder about the physiological impact of this caretaking practice. Taking care of our physical environment may have the same beneficial biochemical impact on our beings as taking care of little beings.

When we care for something, anything, we enter into a mutually enriching reciprocal relationship. We touch and are touched by the world around us. So, I encourage us all in this time when we cannot hug and walk shoulder to shoulder as we used to, to consciously tend to our homes, our plants, our pets and the people around us – at whatever distance is appropriate – for their benefit and for ours.