Markham Professional Building
2265 Pembina Highway
Winnipeg Manitoba

B100-143 Smith Street
Winnipeg Manitoba

204-275-1045

    follow me on Twitter
     

    Topic: Relationships

    Celebration of Restitution

    I, like the rest of Canada, was well aware of the final day of Olympics this last weekend.  The hockey game between Canada and the US effectively shut down the country as we all joined together in watching the game, and in joyful anticipation of the eventual victory.  Wow...Sunday felt good, eh?

    But the moment that keeps coming back to me this morning as I am at the counselling office is not one at the hockey game, but one that occurred at the beginning of the closing ceremonies.

    The moment I most remember opened with humor as a mime in maintenance garb pops up from the non-functioning arm of the Olympic cauldron, and with great showmanship, connects the cord and with all the strength a mime can muster, pulls the cauldron arm up, bit by imaginary bit, into place.  (We remember how only 3 of the 4 arms arose during the Opening Ceremonies, and how the event of having 4 Canadian sporting legends light the Olympic flame together is marred when only 3 can participate.  Catriona Le May Doan just stood there not able to actively participate in the honorable task.  The others contributed and she just stood there.  It was unfortunate.)

    But on Sunday afternoon, at the closing games as the giant arm goes up, out of the ground comes Catriona Le May Doan, an Olympic superhero star that was denied her chance to contribute at the Opening Ceremony of the 2010 Olympics. And then she lights her arm of the structure that together formed the Olympic cauldron.

    I LOVED it when Catriona arose out of the ground, and she lit her arm of the cauldron.

    It was beautiful.
    It had humor to it.
    It righted a wrong.
    There was a sense of empowering justice.
    It did so without shame…the whole thing was done proudly at the Closing Ceremony.

    But it was a tangible way for the people that “blew it” on the Opening Night with the arm malfunction to express their apology. To visibly and concretely and positively make a wrong, well, to make it right. I respect that. I chucked at the moment, and smiled widely when Catriona got her moment.

    It just felt like an apology done well…it “closed the loop” to the initial error in a matter of fact way that says to the world, "We've righted a wrong". 

    Thanx, VANOC, for showing the world many good Olympics moments- in my eyes, this was one of the best!

    Living Consistently to Your Words

    What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.

      - Ralph Waldo Emerson

    I was at a basketball game the other day (not unusual) and sitting in the bleachers (my back may never completely recover from this bleacher filled season of my life) and enjoying the game (what's not to love about watching kids enjoy themselves and visiting with parents at the same time?).  This was a particularly competitive game (though some might say they all are), and the score was close (making it all that much more interesting).  This was a long time rivalry between two neighboring schools (which meant that the enthusiasm had an even higher level than the usually high level).

    A player from the blue team fouled a player on the red team.  It meant a couple of free throws.  One of the kids rooting for the red team cheered jubilantly.  A parent from the blue team yelled over in disgust, "Don't cheer when bad things happen for the other team!"  A little later, the red team played some great defense and a blue team player double dribbled...which means the red team gets the ball.  Again, a red team fan hooted and hollered for the turnover...he was an enthusiastic child that was pumped that his team got the ball.  Once again, the blue team mom called over, "It's rude to cheer for mistakes of the other team."  I was situated in the middle between this drama...the blue team mother was sitting beside a red team mother and somewhat proudly and quite loudly proclaimed that she would never cheer for the misfortune of the other team like this boy did.  She was outraged at the poor sportsmanship.  She felt it ruined the experience for the rest of the people at the game.

    By the time she was done, I wasn't having much fun.  My stomach felt a little sick and the good time I was having was colored by her grumpiness. 

    Her loud and vocal criticism of the other team's fans--thinking how it spoiled the experience for others--well it spoiled the experience for me. 

    The red team fan was enthusiasm gone a little sideways...he didn't know his cheering could be a problem, and the puzzled and hurt look on his face when she yelled was painful to watch. So, part of me was feeling this little sick feeling, and part of me was chuckling at the irony of her actions compared to her words.

    However, it caused me to pause and wonder if my actions drown out my words and wonder if there are ways in which we each don't intend:

    • like asking someone in your life to come towards you in dialogue in a style that actually creates distance.
    • like telling your kids not to yell so much, while you yourself have a raised voice!
    • like wanting a relationship to work, hoping it will work, craving it to work, but doing nothing out of fear (and thereby looking disinterested)
    • like wanting a close relationship with someone, but until it happens, fill the time with work or with sport or with __________(fill in the blank).  Funny then, how you never quite get there.
    What signals do you send out...and are they consistent with what you say?

    Restrained, Wise Compassion

    It was 20 years ago this week that Nelson Mandela was released from prison. I enjoyed hearing the retrospectives of that time on the radio this week, and so I was extra motivated to find a window of time to go see the movie, Invictus on Friday.  Really glad I did.
    Nelson Mandela demonstrates the ability to calm himself and choose graciousness to rebuild relationships.

    I'm not much a fan of rugby...a wild and painful-looking sport. But I was captivated by how Nelson Mandela used the processing of the sport as a means to unify two factions with a long and violent history filled with pain and injustice.  He is able to convince those around him to respond with compassion rather than retaliation...allowing opportunities for healing and unification.

    As a therapist, the highlight of the movie was the scene immediately after the black South Africans unanimously agreed to abandon the "Springboks" name and the green and yellow colors of the national team in moving forward.  They want a fresh start with identifying the national team as "Proteas", something the other national teams were doing. Nelson Mandela comes to their meeting, and at huge political risk, challenges them to reconsider.  He agrees that he, too, used to cheer against the Springboks, a sign of white minority rule, when he was in prison.  He would cheer for the opposing team, no matter who they were, because the South African Springboks were playing for the minority oppressors.  He reminds them, that now, with a united South Africa, that all of South Africa is on one team.  He reminds them of the importance and significance of the "Springbok" name and colors to the people who were once their enemies, and with whom they are now working to somehow create a new unified country.  Nelson challenges them to be gracious and extend the ability to keep the name, to not strip the team and its supporters of what is important and familiar.  He encourages this decision as one that is important to demonstrate that tolerance, cooperation and respect are being extended by the black South AFfrican community...to not return oppression with further oppression.

    His motion wins, narrowly.

    He is able to convince people to not retaliate.  I remember Tevye saying in Fiddler on the Roof, "if everyone takes an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, then the whole world will be eyeless and toothless."  The black African community chose to take the high road and extend grace.

    The movie goes on, demonstrating (I suspect with some liberties with regards to historical accuracy as most movies generally do) how attitudes are slowly changed, and the country becomes united as the team strives to win the world cup.  At one point, Nelson Mandela and the captain of the rugby team have tea.  On the way to the meeting, the captain asks the security guard what kind of man Nelson Mandela is. The security guard comments that with previous governments, his job as security was to be invisible.  With Nelson Mandela, he is not invisible...Mandela and he talk, and when Mandela finds out what his favorite sweets are, the security guard receives some as a gift when Mandela returns from overseas.  "With Mandela, no one is invisible."  Mandela is respectful to all, and chooses to look beyond his years of imprisonment, to establish a new culture of working together.  He lives out his challenge to the community on a personal leve.

    Mandela has the ability to center himself, regulate his reactions, and choose to respond in a way that allows communication that ultimately works for the greater good.  He doesn't ignore the history of oppression and injustice, but neither does he allow it to destroy the current potential for rebuilding.

    Seems to me that if you are in a relationship that feels painful, and your first instinct is to retaliate, it might be a good idea to challenge yourself to view Invictus before you make a decision.  I know I'll be thinking about this one for a while.  Thank you, Nelson Mandela, for your example of peace making.

    Authenticity has staying power

    Everybody is three people.

    We're who we think we are,

    we're who the audience thinks we are, and

    we're who we really are,

    and the closer those three people are together,

    the longer your career can last.

    Kenny Rogers, as told to

    The Winnipeg Free Press, February 6th, 2010


    Hmmm...thinking that he's not just talking about entertainers here.

    Seems like wisdom we can all gain from.

    The Downside of "Comfortable"

    It’s not always the worst thing to be uncomfortable.

    In fact, there is a place for discomfort.

    Not very sensitive-seeming words for a therapist to be writing in her blog, huh?

    Let me explain.

    A few weeks back I was at Costco and saw this winter running shirt in a super fancy fabric that holds heat in and wicks moisture out, blah blah blah. It was very reasonably priced, and was supersoft and had a “wear me” invitation written all over it. Snow was coming. So I got it—and was eager to try it out.

    The next time I went running, I put in on…over my running t-shirt, and under my running sweatshirt (which is under my weatherproof shell jacket). It was a beautiful late fall, unseasonably-warm day and I quite enjoyed the comfort of this soft shirt as I was running. I started off my run toasty warm, and I was loving the day.

    About 10 minutes in, I was realizing that I was more than warm. 20 minutes in, well…it wasn’t rocket science to see that I was clearly overdressed for the day, and that the rest of the run would be uncomfortably warm…even with a little snow on the ground.

    All runners who are reading this now, are thinking to themselves, “Any experienced runners know that you start off a run dressed for 10 degrees warmer than the actual weather.” For example, when it is -10 degrees Celsius, you dress for 0 degrees. I remembered that too…about 10 minutes into the run. It seems some things I am destined to relearn annually the hard way.

    What happens when you start a run dressed for weather 10 degrees warmer than it actually is? It’s COLD!! I dislike being cold, and avoid it where possible. I need one powerful reminder every year in early winter that it is better to put up with a few minutes of discomfort at the beginning of a run until I get warmed up—the rest of the run is amazingly pleasant.

    Isn’t a lot of life like that? I know that counseling certainly has that quality to it. Almost all people who make an appointment aren’t looking forward to the first session, especially the first few minutes of a session. Starting to talk to someone new is awkward enough, but then very quickly entering into tough areas that are full of pain is incredibly uncomfortable. Many contemplate their suddenly scratchy throat and look for an excuse to bail with the best of intentions, consider cancelling to avoid infecting the therapist. Some look at their work schedule and see the new project with the upcoming deadline and decide that she can use this an excuse to cancel the couple counseling that he has been pleading for her to attend she really must postpone because work is too busy.

    Conversations can be like that too. How many of us at Christmas, avoided discussing something that rubbed us the wrong way because we wanted to keep things comfortable and pleasant over Christmas? How many do that during a date, or a special evening with family, or in a special relationship—avoid the awkward and uncomfortable. It's pleasant...always pleasant...or at least doesn't plunge into a painful space with somebody starting a discussion that's uncomfortable.

    In the short run, this pays off. But in the long run…the initial discomfort is paid for by a long term consequences of resentment, anger, unresolved pain, or unmet needs and desires.

    I dare you…take the risk to start off a conversation in an uncomfortable way by plunging in to tough stuff. Start off 2010 taking care of an uncomfortable issue in your life—with conversations, with AA, with Weight Watchers, with a therapist, with an accountability partner. Let it be uncomfortable, and support yourself in the initial discomfort. Yes, you’ll regret your decision just before you start, you’ll want to back out, you’ll wonder if you made a mistake. That is a part of feeling the discomfort.

    It's a little like that feeling that a kid gets before he goes to camp for the first time, even when he's been looking forward to it...the closer he gets to leaving, the more he wants to not go, he wants to have his mother tell him he can stay home. But his mom encourages him, supports him, listens to his fears...and makes him go anyways. When his mom goes to pick him up he  runs saunters out of the cabin and then he throws his arms around her and says, "I had the best time. Thanx for making me go even when I was scared." he casually says, "Yeah, it wasn't so bad.  It was actually kinda fun".   (Who are we kidding, a kid isn't going to admit this to his mom, especially with his friends watching.  But that won't make it any less true!)

    Trust yourself to “warm up” to it, give yourself some time to get used to it, support yourself during those initial uncomfortable stages—they are SUPPOSED to be uncomfortable. That's a normal anticipated part of the early stages of some endeavors.

    Being uncomfortable, in a measured and supported way, is an important step to getting the best that life and relationships have to offer.

    Roses and Thorns--Do You Know How You are Perceived?

    You wouldn’t think I would be one to add fuel to the fire that mocks therapists, and adds leveraget to those who think cynically about counselling/psychotherapy. But, I’m let you all in on some potentially incriminating information, for a reason…

     As Dr. Norcross was trying to help us think realistically about ourselves as therapists at a workshop last week, he outlined the results of a study in which thousands of therapists were interviewed (yes, thousands, a large study sample). Researchers found:

    • 25% of therapists see themselves in the top 10% of therapists in the field. Seems it’s a disproportionately crowded at the top! J
    • 100% of these thousands of therapists saw themselves in the top 50% of therapists in the field. That’s right, folks, it’s not only just a little lonely at the bottom, it’s completely empty. There are no therapists who would describe themselves as being in the bottom 50% of practicing therapists. Do the math. It doesn’t work.

    So apparently my profession isn’t very good at being insightful into their own performance…half of us overrate ourselves--substantially. Ouch. 

    Really. OUCH.

    What’s particularly poignant about this, is that the evidence suggests that the outcome of therapy has little to do with how the therapist perceives therapy is going. The number one indicator of the likelihood that a successful experience of counselling? The CLIENT’S perspective on how well the therapy is going, and how effective the therapy can be.

    At Bergen & Associates Counselling , we are working to be very deliberate in discovering the client’s experience of therapy. The evidence suggests that as we work to adapt and adjust counselling sessions in such a way that the client feels they are effective and that the therapists adjusts stylistically to help the client feel connected, the course of therapy will require less sessions and produce a better outcome. I’m all over that!

    So, more on that in the coming months…we are rolling out a program that will allow us to continually tweak the sessions and what we do in therapy so as to make it maximally effective for each client.

    Anyways, this got me to thinking…I work to be effective in my life—I try hard at it. But…perhaps the same principle applies here. I started imagining how I might think I am being a good family member to the very important people in my life, but actually don’t know if my efforts are being perceived the way I think they are. How would I know, without feedback?

    So, borrowing off a colleague’s suggestion of  a “thorns and roses” approach to gathering feedback from others, at our regular Monday supper family meeting, I invited people to comment on my role in the family in a candid way…asking them to give me “roses comments” for the things that meant a lot to them, that they perceived as helpful, and “thorns comments” for the things they thought I could do better on. 

     It was kind of a cool experience, even though I held my breath going in. 

    • My family appreciates me in ways which are surprising. I know now how much they value things that I do, that I didn’t even realize were significant—I can do more of those. 
    • Some things that I place huge effort in, they didn’t see as hugely important—that’s good to know. I can let some of those things go. 
    • Turns out they saw my internal stress the last couple of days more than I thought they might—oops…guess I’m not as good at protecting them from it as I might be…gotta work on my internal stress level so as not to have it spill over onto them. 
    • I find out that my propensity to turn the heat down at night is not as much of a humourous joke as I thought it was—it changes the way they feel at home…maybe I’ll compromise on this “green strategy” a little and find another way to contribute towards saving our planet.

     I wonder if many of us don’t over rate our performance as a spouse/friend/parent…but have never “checked it out” to know how we are perceived by others. 

    What if we all are overrating our ability to relate meaningfully to the ones around us?

     Do you know what it is in how you relate to others that is positive? Do you have a sense of what it is that you do that negatively impacts your relationship?

     Do you just blame the other for misunderstanding your attempts, or can you hear feedback and modify your behavior in such a way as to be responsive to the people you care about. Can you increase your effectiveness as a mom/dad/brother/aunt/grandpa/friend by finding out what would be valuable to the other and have that matter?

     Couple of provisos:

    • If you’re gonna ask for feedback, you gotta do it in such a way that you let the other person know you genuinely want the “roses and thorns”.  It's hard to believe someone that they are really open--help them understand your genuine attempt to invite candid feedback
    • Thorn messages can be hard to hear…work to be open, constructive with the feedback, calmly hear the “nuggets of truth” and find ways of being gracious to person about the stuff that isn’t constructive.
    • “Thorn comments” are not reasons to beat yourself up, but information for learning opportunities about what is meaningful to the other. 
    • This is not about changing yourself into being exactly who you think the other person needs you to be at the expense of being yourself. This is about finding ways to showing the love and caring you have in more effective ways to the people you care about. 
    • Ensure that follow up conversation doesn’t have the other person regret letting them know of their perceptions…throwing it back in their face in an argument, blaming them for what they’ve said, and so on. 
    • Set it up thoughtfully, so that it is a “win/win” situation.

    So…before you laugh too hard at us therapist-types for overrating ourselves…work at living an examined life as you relate to others around you, and see what surprises you might find about how effectively you relate to the others around you.

    How do I love thee...

    Isn't it nice to be loved?  For big reasons, small reasons, or even no reason at all, other than you are you.  The craving we have to be loved and appreciated, validated and enjoyed is a universal human phenomenon. 

    There's something quite lovely about being as appreciated as enthusiastically, as richly, as authentically, as practically and as humbly by someone as much a child is about her new pink boots (and even, or maybe even especially, if it is said in an "over the shoulder, I'm busy" kind of way):

    We all long to be simply, deeply and wonderfully loved.
    People come to counselling because they want their spouse to delight in them in a loving way
    It is wonderful to know you are loved in a real way.
    We all long to be loved.  We all need to love--in little, big, ordinary, spectacular, warm, cuddly, official, practical, spontaneous, and planned ways. 

    Go, let someone know that they are loved by you.

    Relationship versus Task?? It Depends

    It’s a delicate balance—relationships.  In lots of ways.

    I've spent a coupla weeks talking to first year Master's level Occupational Therapy students--teaching them how to interview clients. So, after I talked to the students about these things, they had a chance to go to the Clinical Learning and Simulation Facility at the University of Manitoba and work with simulated clients to practice the skills.  It’s one thing to have a lecture about this stuff…and a whole other deal to have to do it with people.

    They did great—I was proud of them.  “Hands on” style learning happens at turbo speed compared to “sitting in the classroom watching me talk” style learning.

    But this was where the balance came in.  They knew it was important for them to learn to gather important information that is vital in an Occupational Therapy interview.  They also knew it was important to develop rapport with a client…to have the client feel sufficiently comfortable in the interview.  That comfort is important to the success of therapy.

    Some gathered information but missed connecting with the person.
    Others connected magnificently, but missed the purpose of the interview—almost no clinical information of value was gathered.

    That is the challenge of all relationships, really, isn’t it?  To balance getting things done with the “being” with the other.

    You know what I mean, right?  You’ve had a conversation with someone who was very nice, very friendly, but you were left guessing what the point was?  I remember having a chat with someone last week…I think she was trying to tell me something, but it took me half a day to put the pieces together—I went back a day later to check out my hunch. 
    Focus on the relationship, losing the task.

    Have you known  couple who never gets around to the task of discussing finances—cuz they are too scared that their relationship can’t handle the discussion?  (which could actually stress the relationship with undiscussed debt and resentment)
    Focus on the relationship, losing the task. (And the relationship can lose out, too)

    The flip side is having someone march in, get right down to business, and tell me what they think they need.  Only thing is, I don’t have a context, I don’t feel respected, and I’m not “on board” with the request. 
    Focus on the task, losing the relationship.

    Have you known an individual who alienates co-workers in the attempt to get the project done on time…(which may slow the project because your co-workers aren’t cooperative)
    Focus on the task, losing over relationship (But the task can suffer, too)

    We all have comfort zones.  I have to watch…I err on the side of relationship.  When I need to talk to someone—maybe ask’em for a favor—I can talk all around it, give every possible way out, apologize several times, ask them about their dogs, their kids, their favorite dessert  and what color socks they are wearing (you get the picture) before I ask.  If I ask.

    You see what I mean.

    The students ask me how to balance relationship building with accomplishing the task as they are working with a client.  My frustrating response:  “It depends”. 
    • Depends on the person with whom they are talking…their comfort level, their patience,  and so on. 
    • Depends on the relationship…how well you know them, how well you want to know them, what the goals of the relationship are. 
    • Depends on the task…how urgent the task is, how challenging the task. 
    • Depends on you…how comfortable you are with the relationship, with the other person, with the task at hand.
    It does depend.  

    What was helpful for the students this week, was the mindfulness of the process of practicing these interviews.  They did their interviews with a simulated client with an audience of their peers and with a lab instructor.  They had a chance to process…looking at the balance between relationship development/maintenance with the task of the relationship.  They asked questions and were challenged about their choices.  They were thoughtful about the balance, and challenged each other to be aware of their choices, and to think through their choices…allowing them to modify their behavior.  All developing their ability to evaluate the choices involved in “depends” to make good choices to allow for optimal relationships with clients.

    Watch your own interactions with others in the next few days.  Do you shy away from accomplishing something in the relationship that you would like to get done?  Why? Do you push an agenda, mowing over the other in a way that felt disrespectful?  What is that about?

    What would it be like to be truly thoughtful about the balance between task and relationship?  What would you notice, appreciate and value about your choices?  What would make you uncomfortable?  Do your reasons make sense once all the "depend factors" are considered?

    Try it!

    Uncovering the Sting

    The sinister creep of self doubt has a firm hold on me…whether I want it or not (and, for the record, I don't). Had a conversation a few days ago.  A well meaning colleague decided she should set me straight on a few things.  

    In other words, she gave me some advice on how I should handle a mutual relationship.

    In other words, she told me my current approach was wrong.  Her well intentioned input is a judgment on the way I’m choosing to handle things.  She doesn’t like what I’m doing.  Ouch.

    Now, don’t get me wrong.  She was gentle.  And kind. And she wants things to improve—that was her motivation.

    Can’t figure out if I’m more mad or more hurt.

    See…she doesn’t know the whole story.  Can’t know it, really.  There’s parts to this story she isn’t privy to.  Parts of the story, that, because of who she is, she can’t possibly understand.  And without knowing those parts of the story, her advice is solid and noble and something I look like an idiot not to take.  Or have already done a long time ago. Her advice has me feeling like a scolded child.

    I know the whole story—and she doesn’t—so I wish I could be the bigger person and laugh about it.  I should be able to take her words and hear the hidden message:  “You matter to me. The situation matters to me.  Enough I’m willing to stick my neck out.”  I should be able to hear the hidden message for what she’s intending to say and disregard the parts that I know aren’t relevant.

    I should be able to.

    But I can’t.

    It’s silly, and I know it.  I find my eyes tearing up in the car driving alone while I’m thinking about it.  I find myself coming up with some real “zinger” comebacks that I imagine saying to her (instead of the open mouth guppy-like movements I must have made during the actual conversation) when I would rather be busy thinking about other things.

    Funny how our brains hold onto the painful moments, and we have trouble talking ourselves out of that, even when we have really effective ways of doing so.

    It's a funny thing being human. Having trouble letting a painful experience go, even when rationally it makes no sense to hold onto it.  The way an off hand comment by someone can cut us to the quick, rebruising a long hidden soft spot that we had been blissfully unaware of.

    I’ve got some work to do…sorting out what was in those comments that was truth and I can learn from (no point in throwing out the baby with the bathwater!), and what in me has trouble letting the rest fall away as chaff from the wheat. And to be gentle with myself because I know the “back story”, and I’m not the putz that I’m making myself out to be.

    I better get to work.

    Expectations after Failure

    The implications of “knowing” what to expect after a mistake ripple.

    All this blogging about mistakes reminded me of an incident that occured some time ago. I realize that most of life isn’t this obvious, and that the back and forth of relationships produce much more subtle exchanges, but it will allow me to illustrate something that I think about with regards to why we fear mistakes so much:

    I was helping to host a birthday part for a 7 year old child's birthday party…mostly of boys.  You can imagine the energy and noise level of the room—double that, and you’ll come close.  The time came for the boys to sit down for hot dogs, chips and drinks…the chosen menu of most birthday boys that age.

    Just because they’re sitting down to eat, doesn’t actually mean they’ll eat.  They don’t, really.  Much too excited about being together at this occasion—too much joking around, too much trying to impress the others with bravado, too much giggling to take time to eat.  But they putter with their food and the noise goes on (and when they calm down at home right after the party, they eat cereal cuz they're starving).  These boys are not sitting still…they struggle to remain in their chairs, but they alternate between being on their knees and sitting down—lots of wriggling and jiggling…it’s the stuff of seven year old birthday parties the world over.

    One more crucial ingredient to that occasion and this story…”swamp water”.  Oh, the passionate cleverness and bravery little boys have as they don’t want coke, orange pop, 7-up or root beer—they want a mixture of it all.  Being courageous enough to have swamp water with it's unknown combination of flavors has boys imagining themselves adventurous as "Indiana Jones".  Having already anticipated this request, I fancy myself one step ahead of them, and have a pitcher at hand, ready to make “swamp” (when you’re 7 and cool, you don’t even say the “water” part) in bulk, to increase efficiency of serving.

    I’m watching the table full of little boys, pretending to eat, but really having the time of their lives…when it happens.  In the joyful exuberance of childhood, one child tells a story using his arms for emphasis, and the his cup of swam goes flying.

    This is inevitable.  I get that.  Not a matter of “if” a spill happens, but really a matter of “when”.  I am prepared.  I have a towel over my shoulder at the ready, for exactly this moment.

    The cup, on its side, with the liquid spreading rapidly is on the other side of the table from where I am standing.  I grab the towel over my shoulder and reach quickly across the table—I’m going to try to catch the spreading mess before it starts to seep over the edge of table onto the chairs, floor and all over little boys.

    That’s when the crux of this story happens.  The offending little boy who has just spilled his drink sees my outstretched arm swooping towards his general direction, and he cries out and shrinks back--hard and quickly making himself very small and very distant--well out of my arm's reach.

    He thinks I’m taking a swing at him.  He assumes I’m furious at the spill, and I’m going to make him pay.  He cringes, waiting to be struck.

    In a split second, it’s over.  The towel gets spread over the spill, my hand well short of him, and he realizes he’s safe.  The birthday boy sitting next to him, bless his soul, calmly says to him, “Don’t worry.  We all mistakes.” And the event continues.

    Somewhere in that little boy’s life, he learned to be frightened of grownup’s arms swooping towards him, in a way his little companion has not.  He knows how to take reflexive action to reduce the possibility of him being hurt by reacting hard and fast to get himself out of harm’s way.  He learned mistakes aren’t safe--and now he reacts to all mistakes in a frightened way.

    Some observations (as only a therapist can):
    -the little boy overlearned the principal, and was applying it to situations that felt dangerous, but really weren’t.  There was no way he could know that it wouldn’t have occurred to me to hurt him for the spill.  Don’t think he had a chance to learn that day, as, for all he knew, he wasn’t hit because he jumped aside successfully. How can he learn that? (The world, in fact, does sometimes take a swing at mistakes--for sure...but statistically, violence is far less likely to happen than some sort of other response.  The birthday boy recognizes this...and for him, the world is a very different place.  Two very different ways of responding to a mistake--one anxiety filled and fearful, the other relaxed and calm).

    -the little boy may spend a lifetime jumping away from things that are fearful…what will he miss out on as he jumps aside. He may keep himself safe, but what opportunities will pass him by?

    -the effect on the other is powerful.  To every action, there is a reaction, and a reaction to that.  I felt awful to know that my actions had terrified the little guy.  I felt badly, and had to process the bad feeling I had inside--I didn't like to see him cringe away from me--it took a while before I realized (and I could so easily in this situation because of its clarity) that he wasn't cringing from ME...but from previous experiences.  What if it hadn't been so obvious...the other walks away confused and guilty at having hurt someone they care about--but unclear as to what they did wrong.

    -the effect on the other is powerful.  I was much more gentle for the rest of the event with him, knowing now, how easily he could be frightened.  What kind of effect would that have on others when there is such a fear of being punished by the other after a mistake? People will change how they respond to him, not joke or challenge him, perhaps let him get away with little errors (which sets him up for bigger ones) and so on.

    -carrying it one step further...in a marriage, when one sees the other one shrink back to avoid punishment...it feels like distancing.  When a spouse watches the other distance for reasons unknown, then, quite frankly, the most common response is anger..."Why are you pulling away from me? How dare you pull away when I am reaching out to you!".  And then...the reason for the withdrawal is confirmed and the prophecy of danger-anticipation is fulfilled..."I knew it was dangerous.  I knew she'd be mad at me.  Lucky thing I pulled back".  And an ugly cycle begins.

    That little guy “knew” what was going to happen after he spilled his drink…or at least, he thought he did.  But he was wrong in his assumption…what he thought would happen wasn’t going to happen that day.  He was a little kid…7 years old…doing the best he could to protect himself.

    But the rest of us…do we operate on what we “know” will happen? We are adults, with greater ability to support, comfort and protect ourselves.  Do we really consider the rest of the possibilities and consider other outcomes of a frightening action?  Can we contemplate reactions we can have that can protect ourselves in more adaptive ways than just avoiding, running away, cringing from what we anticipate is certain punishment?

    Take a look at where you withdraw and what is behind the withdrawal. Notice what happens when you withdraw.  Consider other alternatives besides withdrawing, supporting yourself and taking measures to ensure that you remain safe...see what happens when you change your reactions.


    Older Posts