Yesterday I had an apparently tiny but, I think, profound insight in the realm of parenting. I've had very few parenting insights until now, despite the fact that I have four children and have spent a lot of time as a stay-at-home-mom, so this was exciting for me. I feel like I'm getting ahead of myself, because I have barely scraped the surface explaining the Three Principles so far, but I need to get this story out in writing before it's forgotten.
Yesterday I brought my 7-year-old to the dentist for a routine checkup (sidenote: no new cavities!! YES!), and I had to bring her two younger sisters (ages 5 and almost 2) along with us. The dental assistant felt bad for the two little girls waiting around and offered them prizes from the little box of junky, cheap toys that are kept in the office as rewards for children at the end of their appointments. My 5-year-old chose a little flimsy plastic "watch" with a maze game instead of a watch face. On the car ride home, she decided to be generous and let the almost-2-year-old wear it on her wrist. Well, naturally, something happened to it and it broke. My 5-year-old was very upset and cried about it. And here is where the insight happened.
My first instinct was to try and come up with the right combination of things to tell my daughter that would make her stop crying. "Maybe we can try to fix it." (Obviously that's not realistic, but at least it would buy a little time for her to feel some measure of hope and perhaps later she would forget about it.) "Maybe we can buy you a new one." (Perhaps we could, but to be honest, I did not want to spend actual money on such a piece of junk.) "It was only a cheap piece of junk, it was bound to break eventually; there's no point being upset about it." (Too true, but maybe also a bit unfeeling!)
I didn't say any of those things. What I said was, "I'm sorry, I know you're disappointed." I told myself, she is entitled to feel sad about her prize breaking, even if I don't enjoy hearing her cry about it, and surely if she's allowed to have her feelings, they will change soon enough. I was right. She cried about it a bit longer, and then stopped and moved on to talk cheerfully about something else entirely. She has not mentioned it again since then.
I'm amazed by how this insight seems both tiny and profound at the same time. Maybe lots of other parents already have it figured out, that when you let kids experience their feelings, they are quickly and easily able to move on. I'll be honest. My parenting philosophy has been largely guided by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish who (themselves guided by psychologist Haim Ginott) wrote "Liberated Parents, Liberated Children," "How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk," and others in that series. This parenting philosophy actually does emphasize allowing kids their feelings, and theoretically I already understood that. Negating a child's feelings can make her feel like she doesn't matter to you, or could eventually even make her stop tuning into her own feelings. But there's a difference, I guess I figured, between saying, "oh come on, you don't really care about that broken prize," and saying, "I know you care about that broken prize, but now I need you to stop caring about it." Sounds almost laughable now that I've articulated it! But the fact is that when we let children experience their rough feelings without our interference, the rough feelings pass on their own, and the child's inner tranquility becomes visible again.
In fact, when we let ourselves experience our own rough feelings, without judgment or other "interference," our own rough feelings will eventually pass on their own, and we will find our own inner peace again. This might be hard to hear, because it can be even more unpleasant to fully experience difficult feelings than it is to listen to our kids experiencing theirs. At times, it can seem almost unbearable. We may try to distract ourselves from the feelings, or to block the feelings out with alcohol or other substances, but I don't think I need to spell out why these tactics don't do us any good in the end. (Or do I? I'd be happy to explain, but right now that feels like too much of a tangent.) It's time to recognize that feelings are only feelings, and even when they may seem unbearable, they are temporary. When we trust in our innate health, we understand that we will come through the other side of those difficult feelings still whole and well.
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