TLDR: From sleep-deprived parents to child-free practitioners: How Buddhist teachings apply to life’s biggest decision. Spoiler: No “right” answer exists.
In the journey of life, one of the most significant crossroads many face is the decision to have children.
Unlike other major religions, there is no explicit duty mentioned by the Buddha for Buddhists to have children and expand the population.
Instead, for Buddhists, this choice carries layers of contemplation as we consider how it aligns with our practice of Dhamma.
Let’s explore four key themes that highlight the different experiences of those who choose to have children and those who don’t, acknowledging that both paths offer unique opportunities for spiritual growth and challenges to overcome.
1. Time and Practice
For those who choose to have children, time becomes a precious commodity. The demands of parenthood often mean less time for formal meditation practices or extended retreats.
A practitioner mom, Celeste, shares that “Parenthood for infants definitely means having no time for yourself unless you have external help. Babies need to drink milk every 3 hours including midnight!”
Caring for her daughter who has a cleft palate, is challenging as it causes feeding aversions and discomfort. Milk often seeps into her nose or ears, causing pain, and feeding requires immense patience. When she can’t feed from the bottle, Celeste and her husband resort to tube feeding, which is heartbreaking to watch.
Yet, in soothing her tantrums, she has developed deep compassion, and frustration often melts away. There are moments of sadness, but they pass quickly, just as babies move from crying in pain to smiling moments later, without holding onto the past. Their resilience is truly inspiring.
Hence, even though the time for formal practice might be limited, every interaction with a child becomes an opportunity to cultivate presence, patience, and loving-kindness. Parents often find themselves practising the Dhamma in the most unexpected moments – during a midnight feeding or while soothing a tantrum.
On the other hand, those without children may find they have more flexibility to dedicate time to formal practice. They might have the opportunity to attend longer retreats, dive deeper into sutra studies, or even ordain temporarily.
This additional time for practice can accelerate one’s progress on the path. However, it’s important to note that having more time doesn’t automatically translate to better practice. The challenge here lies in maintaining discipline and motivation without the external push that parental responsibilities provide.
2. Attachment and Letting Go
Parenthood brings with it one of the strongest attachments we can experience as human beings. The love for a child is profound and can be a source of both great joy and great suffering.
Celeste & her baby
Parents are constantly faced with opportunities to practice letting go – from the first day of school to watching their adult children make their own life choices. This intense attachment can be seen as a challenge to Buddhist practice, but it also offers a unique opportunity to understand and work with attachment in a very direct way.
For Celeste, raising a child, especially one with special needs, has been a profound lesson in letting go of attachments and embracing unpredictability. She finds joy in the simplest milestones like her daughter breathing well or drinking milk without a feeding tube, which remind her of the beauty in life’s basics.
This experience has deepened her gratitude for good health and shifted her perspective on survival and fulfilment. Celeste believes that avoiding parenthood out of fear is another form of attachment. Having faced a tough childbirth and near-death experience, she feels strongly that every sentient being deserves their best shot at life.
For her, providing unconditional care with compassion and without clinging has been both deeply fulfilling and a reminder to accept birth and death as they come.
Those who choose not to have children might find it easier to cultivate a sense of non-attachment in certain aspects of life. They may have fewer worries about the future and may find it easier to live in the present moment.
However, they too will face attachments in other forms – to career, to relationships, to personal goals. The challenge here is to ensure that the choice not to have children doesn’t stem from a desire to avoid attachment altogether, which could lead to a different form of clinging.
3. Service and Compassion
Having children provides a direct and constant opportunity to serve others. Parents often find themselves naturally developing compassion as they care for their children’s needs before their own.
This daily practice of putting others first can be a powerful way to erode self-centredness and cultivate metta – the wish for all beings to be well and happy. The love for one’s children can also serve as a gateway to understanding and developing universal compassion.
Alvin, a father of two, shares that children can be a great reflection of our level of compassion.
He shares “Perhaps the most profound aspect of parenting is how our children become mirrors, reflecting our level of practice. They reveal both our strengths and weaknesses, often in stark clarity. Have you ever lost your cool with your child in public? It’s a humbling reminder of how much work we still have to do on our minds. When your child achieves something, do you feel an unhinging need to boast on social media? This might reveal attachments to pride and external validation.”
Their compassion might be expressed more broadly, extending to a wider circle of beings rather than being intensely focused on immediate family. The challenge here is to find ways to regularly step outside of oneself and cultivate a sense of care for others without the immediate demands of family life.
4. Simplicity and Complexity
Choosing not to have children can be seen as a step towards simplifying one’s life. It can mean fewer worldly responsibilities and potentially less entanglement in samsaric concerns. This simplicity can create space for spiritual pursuits and can make it easier to live a life aligned with Buddhist principles of non-harming and minimal impact on the environment.
Celeste and family
On the other hand, having children undoubtedly adds complexity to life. It involves navigating the education system, health concerns, and the myriad of ethical decisions involved in raising another human being.
However, this complexity can also bring richness and depth to one’s life experience. It provides countless opportunities to put Buddhist teachings into practice in real-world situations.
Parents often find that raising children deepens their understanding of impermanence, interdependence, and the preciousness of human life.
Conclusion: Mindful Choice, No Regrets
Ultimately, the decision to have children or not is deeply personal. From a Buddhist perspective, what matters most is not the choice itself, but how we approach it and live with its corresponding results.
If you choose to have children, embrace it as a path of practice, finding the Dhamma in every aspect of family life. If you choose not to have children, use your circumstances wisely in your pursuit of enlightenment and service to others.
Remember, there’s no need to give in to peer pressure or societal expectations. What’s most important is to make your choice mindfully, with a clear understanding of your motivations and the potential consequences.
Whichever path you choose, there will be unique opportunities and challenges. The key is to accept these with equanimity, always doing your best to cultivate wisdom and compassion in whatever circumstances you find yourself.
In the end, a life well-lived in accordance with the Dhamma is what matters most, whether that life includes raising children or not. May your choice be guided by wisdom and lead to the benefit of all beings.
Wise Steps:
Audit your motivations: Ask: “Is my choice driven by fear or wisdom?”
Create a “parenting as practice” plan: Turn daily tasks (feeding, tantrums) into mindfulness exercises.
Do a “time budget”: Allocate hours weekly to spiritual growth, kids or not.
TLDR: From mindful marriages to conscious parenting, discover how to navigate family life with Buddhist wisdom. Learn to find the Dhamma in the ordinary chaos of raising children
In the bustling cities of Singapore and Malaysia, many young Buddhists grapple with life’s big decisions. As a practitioner in his 40s, I’ve pondered the same questions you might be asking: Is marriage just a societal expectation? Should I have children? How do these choices align with the Dhamma?
Let’s explore how these life stages can be viewed through a Buddhist lens, offering insights for those navigating these waters. Here’s my learning journey of having kids whilst practising the Dhamma.
Questions to ask before marriage and kids
Marriage isn’t just about romance or tradition. For Buddhists, it’s an opportunity to create a partnership rooted in Dhamma. Before tying the knot, consider:
• Are you marrying because it’s expected, or because it aligns with your values?
• Can your union be a foundation for mutual support in following and practising the Dhamma?
• How will you balance commitment with the understanding of impermanence?
Remember, a mindful marriage can provide a stable base for practice, but it’s not the only path to awakening.
How do we balance the Buddha’s teachings on simplifying life with the complexities of raising a family?
Mindfulness in daily life: Every nappy change, and every bedtime story becomes a chance to be present.
Patience (khanti): Cultivating forbearance in the face of tantrums and sleepless nights.
Wisdom (pañña): Gaining insights into the nature of attachment as we experience both intense joy and profound worry for our children.
Compassion (Karuna): Expanding our capacity for love beyond our immediate family.
Children as Mirrors of Our Practice
Perhaps the most profound aspect of parenting is how our children become mirrors, reflecting our level of practice. They reveal both our strengths and weaknesses, often in stark clarity:
Have you ever lost your cool with your child in public? It’s a humbling reminder of how much work we still have to do on our minds.
When your child achieves something, do you feel an unhinging need to boast on social media? This might reveal attachments to pride and external validation.
How do you react when your child struggles in school? Your response can unveil deep-seated insecurities or expectations.
In essence, our children offer a constant, unfiltered reflection of our practice. They show us, without hesitation, where we still cling, where we lack patience, where our compassion falters.
The mirror never lies: it’s our greatest tool for self-realisation.
Navigating the Education Maze
Parenting in Singapore and Malaysia brings specific trials. The pressure of the education system, for instance, challenges us to practice non-attachment to outcomes while still supporting our children’s growth.
We must find ways to provide for their needs without fostering materialism, and to carve out time for formal practice amidst busy family life.
These challenges, while difficult, are like rich compost for our Dhamma practice. They push us to apply the teachings in real-world situations, moving our understanding from seedling theory to full-grown lived experience. According to Master Thich Nhat Hanh, truly “No Mud, No Lotus”.
Each tantrum, each school stress, each busy day is an opportunity to cultivate:
Patience: As we wait for our ‘garden’ to bloom in its own time.
Wisdom: As we discern which ‘plants’ to nurture and which to let go.
Compassion: For ourselves, our children, and all beings facing similar struggles.
In this garden of parenthood, we’re both the gardeners and the plants, growing alongside our children. The challenges we face are not obstacles, but the very soil in which our practice takes root and flourishes.
Breaking Cycles, Building Wisdom
Parenthood also offers a unique opportunity to recognise and heal our own childhood wounds. As we interact with our children, we often see reflections of our past experiences.
This awareness allows us to break cycles of unskillful behaviour and cultivate a deeper understanding of intergenerational karma.
Dr Shefali Tsabary, a clinical psychologist speaks of “conscious parenting”. This approach encourages us to see our children as our awakeners, here to reveal our true selves and push us towards growth.
Embracing conscious parenting means:
Pausing before reacting: When triggered, take a breath. Ask yourself, “What’s really going on here? What part of me is feeling threatened?”
Cultivating self-awareness: Regularly reflect on your interactions with your child. What patterns do you notice? What childhood memories or emotions are surfacing?
Letting go of the “perfect parent” ideal: Acknowledge that you’re on a journey of growth alongside your child.
Honouring your child’s individuality: Recognise that your child has their own path and purpose, separate from your desires or expectations.
Finding the Middle Way
As with all aspects of life, parenting calls for balance. We aim to guide without controlling, to love without attachment, to support growth while accepting impermanence. It’s a daily practice in finding the Middle Way.
Whether you choose to marry and have children or not, the key is to approach life choices with mindfulness and wisdom. For those who do become parents, remember that your children are not burdens or distractions from the path – they are the path itself.
Every moment with them is an opportunity to practice, to grow, to awaken. The challenges of parenthood can deepen our understanding of the Four Noble Truths in profound ways.
So, to my fellow Buddhist parents and parents-to-be: embrace this journey. Let your children be your teachers. And may your path, filled with nappies and night feeds, tantrums and triumphs, lead to the cessation of suffering for yourself and all beings.
Resources for Buddhist Parents
If you’re navigating parenthood as a Buddhist, know that you’re not alone. Consider exploring:
TLDR: Why quit your job during a pandemic? How do we help our friends who are thinking about quitting?
When the pandemic plunged the world into recession, university graduates felt nervous. The fear of not finding a job or having your job offer rescinded was real.
Hence, to land a job and then quit your stable, full-time job during a pandemic makes you pause and say “Huh, why?”. Yanda has a different take. He asks ‘Why not?’.
Sipping coffee as Yanda shares his story
The Job Hunt Hype
Yanda, a final year student in 2020, took his time to enjoy university while it lasted. He mentioned that “everyone was rushing to secure a job. There was great hype for job hunting.”
It was definitely not an easy climate to be in. Rather than worrying about uncertainty, Yanda volunteered for Buddhist Organisations such as NTU Buddhist Society/ BYN (Buddhist Youth Network). He then took on the job search in his own time.
(No. Yanda doesn’t come from an uber-rich family where a job falls on his lap. He didn’t see the need for an all-or-nothing chase.)
Eventually, Yanda obtained a few offers in the engineering space and took on a role he thought he might enjoy. That is where things changed.
Is This It?
Work soon became monotonous and a routine for him. He noticed a routine of “working, going out for lunch, sitting back down and going home.”
This made him wonder, “Is this it? Is this how I am going to spend my life? What do I want? If I lived to 60 years, will I be content with doing 40 years of the same thing?”
In response to his musing, I mumbled: “Definitely not me.”
His attempt at sharing work struggles with some friends did not yield something he could relate to. They alluded to “finding meaning in your job rather than have the meaning come to you.” It was cold comfort.
I could see his thought process unfold and why that advice didn’t sit well. Yes, there was this sense of job security during a pandemic but it brought little meaning to him. That meaning was nearly impossible to find.
The turning point came when this question popped to mind, “If tomorrow, I am going to die, I would only remember that I did paperwork here and there. That’s it”. That spurred him into action. He tendered his resignation and left the company to the shock of his peers. New hires are usually expected to stay in that job for at least 2 years, but he stayed in that role for less than 6 months.
The Pains Of Change
“I had fear and felt scared”, he gulped when recalling the moment he quit and had no job offer on the horizon.
“So what helped you through the uncertainty?” I quizzed.
The fellowship of his Buddhist circle who listened patiently was what brought him to a brighter state of mind. Friends that were slow to advise but quick to listen to his pain helped him greatly. “That is what matters…being there for me,” he concluded.
“Confidence in the Buddha’s teaching, knowing that all these negative emotions would fade,” he added, gave him strength when he was alone. He viewed the transition as “uncertainty at its very core.”
Over the years, having done mindfulness practice enabled him to watch his emotions and to make necessary changes without attachment. That gave him the conviction that it was not an impulsive move but an informed one.
Starting Again
Smiling as he recalled his Buddhist work, “I have done a lot of Buddhist work that brought joy to me. If this (engineering) job doesn’t fit me, what can I do?”
As causes and conditions came together, Yanda didn’t need to wait long for an answer.
“A friend told me that she had an opening at a preschool where they wanted a Dhamma friend to help build the school’s curriculum.” He recalled. He mulled on the idea of facing kids all day and decided to take the plunge.
Yanda is now studying for a Diploma in Early Childhood Education while working to help build the preschool’s curriculum.
“Uncertainty,” he answers immediately when asked what he loves about his job. “What the children can bring to you every day with every interaction presents uncertainty,” he added.
When he dived deeper, he felt lifted about being able to help kids appreciate this ‘thing’ called the mind. Letting them know that there are ways to develop their minds. Equipping them with Buddhist concepts, techniques and emotional awareness to thrive in a stressful world really motivated him.
“Kids are easy to teach, as they are free of concepts,” he quipped. At that moment, I recalled being an inquisitive child, something I felt I have lost along the way. It was interesting to see how uncertainty could bring us pain (job transition) and joy (teaching kids).
Helping Others Start Again
I was curious to hear Yanda’s take on how we can help our friends’ transition from one job to another.
“There is no one-size-fits-all solution, but what I can say is that this is something cliché,” Yanda shared.
“Listen to them and be genuinely happy for them. Recognise that they took a courageous decision to step out of something that did not fit them,” he added.
On a practical side, Yanda shared that we should remind our friends to also financially plan ahead if they choose to resign without a job offer. As a rule of thumb, one should have at least 3-6 months of expenses saved in cash to weather them through their job search.
His advice was grounded heavily on the Buddhist idea of appreciative joy which is a joy in the achievements/victories of others.
“How can I support you? Do you need resources/contacts?” has been one of the most helpful questions friends asked. I instantly agreed by nodding furiously as I felt that we often are quick to develop solutions without considering our friends’ needs.
Turning Back Time
“Your first job is super important” is one piece of advice that Yanda recommends ignoring for graduating students. It adds unnecessary stress to the individual. That person may then seek out the perfect job which may not exist.
Having wisdom is crucial in helping us see the world properly. If he could turn back time to advise his graduating self, he would say this: “Have an attitude in life that let the results take care of themselves once I try my best. If it doesn’t go my way, what can I do next?” and “We are our own boss, only we can understand our emotions and the true nature of our mind.”
Asking that question gives us the courage to be open to what life can bring. What we can do is to create conditions for success while developing a sense of non-attachment to the outcome.
“Understand we have a mind, and emotions are never truly ours. Just like a cup. The reason why we wash it is that we are confident that the dirt can be washed off. The dirt was never the cup.” he summarised.
It was a mind-blowing summary of expectations and emotions. Recognising emotions as transitory and being at ease with the unpleasant is a skill set we all need as we go through the different changing phases of life.
Yanda showed that Singapore youths are hungry for life and meaning. We need not stay in the same job just to clock a magical number of years before leaving. Asking ourselves “Is this it?” can spark conversations and paths we never dreamt of.
Yanda is currently working in Blue Lion Preschool as an early childhood educator trainee.
