Here in the northern hemisphere, autumn has arrived. The leaves are yellow and the air is crisp.
But when did it arrive?
Was it the first time I woke up in the middle of the night to close the window? Was it the darkness creeping into my evening walk or the prevalent sounds of migratory birds? Was it looking for socks or craving soup?
To say that autumn ‘arrived’ makes it sound like a guest all of a sudden appeared at your door. But we know that autumn tiptoes in, one tiny change after another.
And so do the changes in us as parents.
Tiny transformations. Bit by bit. Day by day.
When it comes to making changes in our relationships with our kids, we often want it to be different overnight. Maybe we’ve endured a problem for longer than we thought possible. Maybe we’re exhausted and just plain out of strategies. And we just want it to be better. Today.
One of my clients had a teenage son who was having angry outbursts that were really scary for her. When he was frustrated, he would sometimes fly into 180-pound rages, throwing words and objects, like he was in a trance.
The mom was living her life on alert. Her body ached with the tension of trying to anticipate what mood he’d be in, what she could or couldn’t say. Her brain was scrambling to find new strategies. Her heart was trying to balance supporting him and not accepting this behaviour.
On top of that, her inner voices were pressuring her to stay calm, for f*! sake.
The thing is that, when he flew into a rage, she would also get angry. Angry that he wasn’t trying to manage his emotions. Angry that she had to live through this terror again. Angry that she hadn’t done whatever it was she should have done to prevent this.
And when she spoke to him, her angry words always made things worse. I think we all know how that feels.
By the time we started working together, she was terribly drained and grasping for any sign of hope. Once we shone some light on the dynamics between her and her son, she became impatient for results. So impatient that, as the weeks passed, she couldn’t see the progress.
She had barely noticed the times when she had recognized her fear and anger and let them pass before she responded. She had almost completely overlooked the moments when she had connected to herself and stayed steady. And she was frustrated that she wasn’t ‘there’ yet.
But change takes time. And sometimes, in your longing for something different, you might fail to notice how far you’ve come.
I’m not trying to paint over the problems you have parenting your young adult child, nor sugar-coat the work that lies in front of you. But for today, I’m inviting you to widen your view and get a clear vision of where you are on your parenting path right now.
A Your most recent practice/ intention
Whether your plan was to stay centered while they yell at you or you were practicing speaking up assertively about what’s not ok with you, here’s the most important question: Did you remember it once?
In the heat of the moment with your young adult, when you felt your heartbeat accelerating or your hands shaking, did you remember to breathe?
When you felt hurt, scared or infuriated, did you think, ‘Oh, here’s my trigger again’?
When your habitual reaction was ready to take over, did you remember that you had other options?
Did your practice/intention come to mind (even if you weren’t able to execute it)?
Remembering is progress.
B The parenting goal you set last year
When you’re hiking and it has been a grind for two hours and all you can see is the incline ahead of you, it’s good to look over your shoulder to catch sight of the elevation you’ve gained.
So where were you in your parenting a year ago? What was hard that has become easier? What thoughts were constantly running through your head but poking at you less often now? Which emotions are you more able to abide and express?
Notice where you no longer are.
Last fall, I was practicing leaving more space in my conversations with my kids. I was hearing a lot of inner dialogue about my parental responsibilities, particularly what I needed to teach them in this moment. Now, it has become more natural to let those thoughts exist without expressing them. Sure, I still have to remember to breathe and hold my tongue, but I definitely have a quieter mind, which means I’m more able to really just listen.
And you?
What progress can you perceive today as you look back to last fall?
C Since you became a parent
And then there’s the long view of your parenting journey. Seeing how far you’ve come in decades calls for a moonlit walk by the water, a visit to the big cedar tree or a quiet hour with a candle and incense. A time between times in which you can perceive differently.
What would be your way to do this? Would you envision yourself flying up 20,000 feet with the cranes? Would you meditate to slip between the minutes and years? Would you dance until you and your sweat evaporate into the clouds? Would sit in total darkness until your eyes become misty and mystically far-seeing?
Whatever your way, dear one, invite that magic to show you the whole path you have walked as a parent.
What changes do you see?
What pivotal events?
What unremarkable small steps that accumulated into something meaningful?
What new ways of parenting have you learned and embodied?
Let that big picture land in you. Breathe it down into your belly, rub it into your skin or tamp it into your heart space.
Let that knowing be part of you, something you can get draw upon when things are rough. A reminder of all you’ve done to nurture a beautiful, complex new person in the world. A shining symbol of how far you’ve come.
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Photo by Jordi Rubies on Unsplash