Parenting Awareness - Compassion

No guarantees that this post will begin a trend of posting. . . life is to be taken as it comes. I did, however, have a thought that has lasted more than two days. Here you have it:

Several years ago we made the decision to have our oldest son change schools. He was not at all happy about the plan, and we spent a summer in relative angst. For the first half of the summer I was trying to convince him that the new school would be great and he would love it. I knew what he did not, that the new school would be a better fit for him personally, academically, and athletically. He couldn't get past the idea of a change - everything new to him, missing his old friends, not sure how things are supposed to happen. . . No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that it would be anything other than awful.

Jeff, with some brilliant persuasion of his own, convinced me to lay off the poor kid. He invited me to allow him to take the lead in the conversations, and stay out of it for awhile. He did this ever so gently and in love - and I truly was able to accept it as wisdom, rather than get defensive. Without the daily pressure to conform to my opinion,  I watched our son internalize the conversation and deal with his questions. I was impressed to see him open up to the conversation. I watched maturity unfold before my eyes.

And as it did, I was overcome with compassion. Rather than being in such a hurry to have him see things from my perspective, I began to see things from his. My heart ached as I considered how an 8 year old deals with the loss of friendship and the uprooting of all he knows at school. I was able to sit with him in the knowledge of the change without trying to convince him that he was going to like it. I was able to cry with him the week before school as he said through tears, "Mom, I'm not saying it will be bad, I'm just saying it will be hard." As we walked together, I was better able to support him from a place of compassion.

Fast forward 2 1/2 years to this last weekend. Our boy woke up grumpy. He woke up with a chip on his shoulder. He woke up with all the world against him, and especially his mom. Nothing I said was right. Nothing I did could soothe. It was going to be one of those days. I could feel the angst start to rise in me as I wrestled with the recurring problem - my son was so exceptionally emotional that when once this spiral began, it would take a miracle to pull out of it. No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that he has a choice in the matter and doesn't have to stay miserable all day. I've witnessed what I see as a tendency to not see things in the light of reality. To blow things out of proportion. To misread what someone else says or does. To take offense easily. Basically, to be 10 and human. But that's beside the point.

The point is, it was going to be a long day, and I was already feeling the inner stress start to boil in my gut. Taking a quick time-out in my bedroom, long enough to throw an arrow prayer to God, I sensed a nudge in my spirit, "Jennifer, don't go down this road. Don't let his misery make you miserable. Bring it to me." Hmmm, how do I do that? "God, I'm sad. I'm sad that my son can't see clearly right now. I'm not actually angry at him, and it's not my job to convince him to see things differently. So, my day doesn't have to be ruined, but I am sad for his reality right now."

With a new reality for myself, and a sense of release from needing to control the reality of my child, I re-engaged in the day. The lights came on and suddenly I was filled with. . . compassion. In ceasing to try to get my child to see my point of view, I began to see his. AND, with rapid clarity I was deeply aware that he and I are not so different. See, there I days that I wake up grumpy. I wake up with a chip on my shoulder. I wake up with all the world against me and nothing anyone says can soothe. Now, I'm 39 years old and I've developed some skills at hiding this kind of mood. But the truth is, when I feel like this, I feel really crummy inside. I dislike how it feels. I want someone or something to make me feel better!!

When I began to think of my son's funk in light of my own funkiness, it helped me to walk alongside him. As a mature adult, I've developed some skills for moving past this mood. I go out for a walk or a run. I listen to some worship music or play on the piano. I sit down in my comfy chair with my journal and I talk to God about it. It's not always easy. It's not a formula, but I've learned how to look to God to change my perspective. I realized that my son has very few of these skills, he just had a mom trying to convince him that the way he felt wasn't reality and he should just quit blaming everyone and everything for how he felt. No wonder he spirals - he has never been taught how to self-evaluate and decide to change course. He doesn't know how. It's developmental.

Suddenly my day wasn't a battle with my son, it was an opportunity to empathize and allow some healing strategies to rub off on him. Not overt teaching, mind you, subtle suggestions. I invited him to walk with me to the store for milk. I shared with him that I have days that feel rotten to me. I told him I've learned a few tricks for getting past my rotten mood, "Would he like some suggestions?"

"Sure Mom"

A walk, a talk, a hug and a prayer on the front porch.

Did it fix the day for him? No. But he took me up on one of my suggestions and wrote his feelings to God in his journal. I could sense the cloud breaking.

Compassion - when we are stuck in a rut with our kids and they simply can't see things from our perspective, perhaps we could be quicker to put ourselves in position to see things in their perspective.