Any therapist or good parent knows it’s destructive to tell a child not to have a feeling that he has. Active listening and empathy show respect for the ultimate, idiosyncratic legitimacy of the child’s emotions. If a youngster “hates” his teacher, there is some real, even physiological, meaning to his expression. If she is uncomfortable around her uncle, hopefully her feelings are not minimized.
Not only do
we respect the child’s feeling, we also help him discharge it with congruent meaning. If he is angry at his teacher, he rails
against his teacher: We don’t tell him to erase the content-target of the anger
and substitute a safer one: “You shouldn’t be mad at Mrs. Hull. Why not instead get mad at that bully who
moved away last year, or at this ball or this punching bag?” What we do is follow some unarticulated law
of human nature that says to honor the child’s core “selfobject needs” (Kohut) for
relationship we must deplore their breach.
Consciousness has a connection to other consciousnesses that it doesn’t
have to nature. We must call the wrong
to task – the wrong of someone who hurt us, the wrong of someone who wouldn’t
hear us decry the wrong. If we don’t, we
dilute the meaning of positive human
connection for the child, and abandon him with injustice in his mind and heart.
But what if the
child doesn’t know or remember what she is frustrated about, carries a faceless
rage? The relationship breach or
disappointment has been lost to mind. It
may have been subtle – a parent’s promise that couldn’t be kept and therefore
couldn’t be expressed by the child. It
may have been a conversion of emotion, hurt to anger – a role model older
brother joining the military. Or parents
failing to perceive, and therefore encourage tears about, the tragedy of loss
of a pet. The feeling can’t find its true
target. But does that mean it can now be
deflected, or “corrected,” or outlawed by the parent? Aletha Solter talks about “pretext” or overblown
feelings in her “broken cookie” idea. A
toddler may wail to the heavens over a small upset. We must not condemn this exaggeration: It is appropriate
to some inner truth. The best we may be
able to do, barring sophisticated recall by the child, is assume a true reason,
which Solter says is the accumulation of past breaches, unexpressed hurts, that
in their build-up explode in a cookie.*
A final
puzzle piece to our child is that loss of emotional justice is loss of self, a painful
splinter of the lost. One can feel it
happening: I remember repressing (not
merely suppressing), as a youngster, pain of dejection when promises weren’t
kept, and the slipping away of my meaning and value that accompanied it. If we are ever to be enlightened enough to
banish the phrase – “Get over it” – from human thought, this is where it should
start. The child cannot get over “it”
because it has made her a hollower person.
And if you believe she has gotten over her loss, this is because you
believe you have gotten over yours,
and are passing on the lack of compassion from “I to thou.”
Interestingly,
we see the adult, twenty or thirty or forty years later, and we want her to
“manage” away her anger. The dark side
of the moon – all the unexpressed, faceless breaches in her young past – is
unseen, doesn’t even exist. We want her
to flow in the upper atmosphere of her adulthood, when she needs to find the
splinters embedded in her childhood home, pull them out, send them to their
long-delayed target. That is justice,
and some peace.
---------------------------
Thank you for your comment. While I doubt that I'm writing "over your head," it is probably difficult to push through the murk. Re: advice for prospective clients. Janov said something like, ‘You can only heal where you’ve been wounded. If you break your arm, you don’t bandage your leg.’ If your heart has been hurt, you can’t stay in your thinking brain. As the essential injuries happen in childhood, we must get some access to the child’s pain, which brings us to a place of great vulnerability. So the paradox – As adults we must challenge our soothing defenses and have the strength to be weak, the courage to be afraid in order to outlet pain and have some degree of healing.
ReplyDelete(And yes, please feel free to "link." -- Fr.)
DeleteI think I've found that the level the 'core level' of an emotion that is repressed is directly proportional to how deep of an effect it has on us as well as how invisible it will seem to us. The stuffing of the very emotion of fear itself, such a low-level emotion, may lead one to fake he is fearless and can take on anything. After that lie is repeated enough, it will become "reality." The reality may have ended up something more like a fairly numb individual, disconnected from much of actual reality, who is highly driven by anxieties they have long removed from their conscious mind. Of course the self doesn't forget, but will defend itself, as the child core self still believes it is in the best survival interest of the person to be anxious and not know why. The harder they try to stuff, 'fix', or intellectually analyze the anxiety, the worse it will actually become. Until one can *believe/feel* that it is OK to be afraid, it is OK to feel the fear, they will rarely be able to see the fact the anxiety even exists, or even if they know it does, how deep it really might go and how solidly it flows through every little thing in their life. Really though, that's just my own experience, your mileage may vary :). RL
ReplyDelete