Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Balancing the Physical and Emotional Protection of Our Children

Funny how personal and professional can often combine.  This might be another example discussed by Jung regarding the collective unconscious.  As always, descriptions of clients are materially changed to protect confidentiality.

A client contacted me re: his adult son with a longstanding history of emotional problems.  The man, in his late 20's was wanting to travel to see his newfound girlfriend for an impromptu holiday get together, much to the consternation of his parents.  The relationship was his first, and despite his age, his parents were concerned about his travelling to see her.  In order to do so, he needed to borrow their car to drive hundreds of miles away from home despite his lack of experience in highway driving, concerning his parents re: his safety on the road. Ultimately he was convinced that driving was not the wisest choice to make the trip and she, with more driving experience, came to see him.

I've known the young man for a while and have competing concerns.  One is for his independence. He is old enough to be independent.  On the other hand, he's inexperienced enough as a driver that his parents understandably are cautious about giving him the keys to their car to drive.  All in all, however, he deserves the chance to spread his wings some to experience the realities of relationships and life.

At the same time I'm travelling over the holidays, staying with friends who confide in me that their son, in his late teens, seems to have some poor judgement about his life. He's doing the right things: he's in school, doing well in his studies, but at the same time he's pretty immature as to how he's considering his life goals.  He's unconnected with his emotions, despite being in therapy (which, after all, is supposed to help one focus on being in the present with both thought and feeling) regarding a number of key issues in his life.

In both cases my response has to do with the boundary between parents' responsibility for the physical safety of one's child and parents' responsibility for the emotional safety of one's child.

We hate to see our children hurt, but at the same time our ability to protect them from hurt is finite. Toddlers are bound to take their first steps, and will fall and scrape their knees.  Or their elbows, chins or noses.  These are indeed painful lessons, lessons that teach, hopefully, how to hold ones self in the world.  I remember when my youngest was in his teens and we were playing catch - a reasonable activity for a father and son to do.  The ball got away from me and when I ran to retrieve it I mis-stepped and fell, ripping open a patch on my elbow.  Even as an adult we sometimes have to learn lessons of childhood about safety.

There are some things we can do to protect our children from physical harm. Giving the keys to an inexperienced driver is unwise.  At the same time parents of children, both on and off the autism spectrum, have to assess carefully how much they can protect their children from the reality of life's scrapes and pain.

I often say to my clients' parents that the older the child, the less influence a parent has, parental influence fades as children age.  The amount of influence we have on a twelve year old is very different than the influence we have on that same seventeen year old.  Knowing the individual strengths and challenges of one's child is skill that parents have to practice is an ongoing challenge, and some parents are better at it than others.  Some kids make it easier for parents to learn than do other kids.

Providing safety is the number one job of parents - think of the care parents take with their newborns. Over time, however, the ability we have to protect our kids grows thin.  Our job as parents is to measure, with care and accuracy, when we do, and when we do not have power over re: our ability to protect our children both physically and emotionally.  It's a tough balance, but it's what parents are charged with in parenthood.




Pushing Past Comfort, Spectrum or Not.

As with all postings, materiel changes to description of individuals is made to protect confidentiality.

A client of mine (neurotypical) recently told me of a coined phrase he learned from his sales team. His sales were OK last year, but not at the pace he wanted to meet the needs of his family causing not a small amount of stress at home.  The phrase is "pushing past comfort" to get the desired sales results. He's been doing that with his supervisors and has weekly and monthly sales goals and marketing strategies he's responsible for to keep him on track.  So far he's optimistic about the system and has a positive, active plan to increase his productivity this year.

That same day another (neurotypical) client of mine came in, struggling with a new relationship she was in.  She's been in a number of relationships in the past and has found herself in a pattern where the pace of the physical relationship is faster than the pace of the emotional relationship.  This is not uncommon in our society, a result, I believe of the "free love" explosion of the 60's and 70's when sexuality became an end unto itself, creating a great wave of permission for communication before, during and after physical intimacy which is a good thing.  But in her case (and in the case of many people), she's ended up in a pattern where the physical has preceded the emotional and she's struggling with how to change that with her new boyfriend.  She didn't use the language, but is also "pushing past the comfort" of her old patterns, of which I'm very supportive.

The same day (really), another client came in who might be on the autism spectrum - I know lots of clinicians who might diagnose him with high functioning autism, though I'm personally more conservative about throwing the label around without more clear data (happy to discuss that elsewhere if you want).  He's one of these guys who's extremely bright and extremely anxious - his anxiety first evidenced since some emotional challenges, not trauma, he experienced at an early age - but he's never been able to treat the anxiety effectively despite great efforts on his part and the part of his mom, step dad, many psychiatrists and therapists.  He's about to venture into a new career at which he's eminently qualified, but it will demand some social schmoozing within the professional network in his field. He's ready.  He's planned out what to do, how to do it, even though doing so "pushes past his comfort" to which his anxiety traditionally restricts him.

The day before a (neurotypical) woman in my office was struggling with her role as a step mother to her husband's two young children.  She fears if she doesn't bend over backwards - and then some - for the kids, her husband will be upset with her.  We began to discuss where and how she learned that kids needed to be indulged (as her mother did with her) and whether that's a necessary pattern to continue in her current family.  It's painful for her for a variety of reasons, and I thought about "pushing past comfort" zones to accomplish one's goals.  I think she's doing this as well.

Carl Jung, a psychoanalyst who famously broke with Freud in 1913 was a proponent of "the collective unconscious," a phenomenon positing that different people can have shared unconscious experiences.  I've not really studied Jung, but from time to time I have a "collective unconscious" experience.  Recently, it seemed to span these four clients....maybe....  Why maybe?, Because as I consider it "pushing past our comfort zone" is a common part of the human condition.  Isn't it what we do when we're tired of whatever status quo we're in and want something more in our lives?  I don't know the answer.  I only know that last week, when I had these four folks in the span of two days, all of whom had this theme in their lives, it gave me pause to wonder about how they, and I, push past comfort zones for the sake of positive change.