Story · Ajahn Brahm
“This is my son, the monk”
The story — as told by Ajahn Brahm (verbatim captions)
My own story, it’s my own mother’s love for the kid. I went to visit my mother for the first time after seven years as a monk, that’s thirty three years ago, what year would that be, 1980 something and you know, this was time in London when monks weren’t cool. You know, we were just weirdos, real strange people. And so when I went to visit my mother, her weekly routine was, on a Saturday morning doing her shopping, (she was working as a secretary), so she hadn’t time to get sort of the groceries and other stuff while looking after the apartment. So Saturday morning, will be shopping time. Saturday afternoon going to the hairdressers, you know, routine. And I went all that way to spend time to hang out with my mother, haven’t seen her for seven years. So I asked, “Can I come with you, you know, on your shopping on a Saturday morning?” And I thought I was ready for her to say no because she might be ashamed to be seen with this son, dressed like a girl, brown robes, bald head, that was really weird. And of course, she said, “No, no, come.” And so, when we walked to the shops again, I thought she would, like teenagers walking a couple of metres in front of mom and dad, couple of metres behind, you know, I’m not associated with these, moms and dads aren’t cool. But no, she was right beside me. And then for those people who know London, the streets are very narrow, full of traffic, and they have a small side walk. And in order to protect the pedestrians on the pavement, the side walk from the traffic, they have railings and it’s the railings where, people when they enter the shops, they usually leave the prams with the kids inside and they tie the dogs there, and I thought that’s where my mother would leave me, [laughter] with the dogs and the babies, you know, not to take me inside the shop because I think these are her friends she sees every week. They know each other and she’d be embarrassed to see me, but no. She dragged me into the first shop, the news agents, where she got me some weekly magazines. And to my surprise, she introduced me “This is my son, the monk.” [laughter] She was proud of me and that was something I never expected because I never knew just the love of a mother for the son was what we call unconditional.
▶ Watch Ajahn Brahm tell it from 15:06 (to 17:52)
A reflection (in the spirit of Ajahn Brahm's talk)
Expecting his mother to be embarrassed by her bald, robed son on her Saturday shopping, Ajahn Brahm half-expected to be tied up outside with the dogs. Instead she marched him into the newsagent's and introduced him proudly. Love like that sets no conditions. Notice whether the people closest to you get your love only when they follow the rules.
In brief (our summary)
On his first visit home after seven years as a monk, when monks in London were seen as weirdos, Ajahn Brahm asks to join his mother on her Saturday shopping, expecting her to be embarrassed — to walk ahead, or leave him tied up at the railings with the dogs and prams. Instead she walks beside him, takes him into the newsagent's and proudly introduces him to her friends: “This is my son, the monk.”
Teaching point
A mother's love is unconditional — the kind of love we can aspire to give.
When this story may help
- fear of family disapproval
- unconventional life choices
- parent-child relationships
Themes
Source & credit
Told by Ajahn Brahm in Why are we here? Why are we born? | Ajahn Brahm | 09-01-2015 · 2015-01-11 · ▶ watch from 15:06 to 17:52 · Buddhist Society of Western Australia
1 other telling of this story
- How to Keep Giving Without Reward | Ajahn Brahm | 02-05-2014 · 2014-05-04 · ▶ watch from 21:14 to 24:17 · Buddhist Society of Western AustraliaMay 2014 telling: 1981 London high street; expects to be left at the railings with babies and dogs; she takes him into shops announcing 'this is my son the monk' with no embarrassment.
Caption notes: Manual (volunteer) captions; occasional misspellings kept as is.
The narrative is Ajahn Brahm's own telling, quoted from the talk captions. The summary and reflection are Being Mindful Stories's editorial notes. Please credit the teacher and link the original talk. Markdown version