safety – Surprised By Joy

“In any given moment, we have two choices: step forward into growth or step backward into safety.” – Abraham Maslow

“How’d the paddle boarding go?” my friend Rachel asked Miss O who responded, “Good.”

Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. I’d planned a special outing for me and my almost 7-year-old to rent paddleboards and go out on the small lake near our house one afternoon after camp last week. Both of us were so excited to have the time together and to get out on the lake. Miss O has paddleboarded in a little inlet by my brother’s boat and seemed to get the hang of handling the board and the paddle so it was going to be a great expedition to be able to go together. We’d talked about the fact that it would be a little choppier and windier where we were going and made a plan if either of us fell in. Miss O said she was prepared.

But when we got out there, the wind pushed her around and at her light weight, she had trouble controlling the board. She got frustrated and it seemed like every sentence that she said out there started with “I can’t…” I offered to tow her and she didn’t want to do that because she wanted to do it herself. We talked about setting our sights on somewhere she could paddle to but she said she couldn’t do anything but circles. I asked her what she thought she could do and the answer was nothing.

I was flummoxed. I know Miss O can step it up to a level of toughness with teachers, coaches and other family members. She has been going to a different camp every week of the summer and when she’s nervous she takes a deep breath and says, “I can’t skip this first day because if I do, then tomorrow just becomes the first day” and then she squares her shoulders and walks inside.

But when I’m around, and this has happened in many different scenarios, she doesn’t show the same resolve and instead tends towards tears and hugs. In the choice Maslow presents in the quote for this post, she chooses to step backwards into safety more often than not when I’m present.

I asked her about paddleboarding in the quiet, calm time before bed that night and, she said it’s because she doesn’t want to cry for anyone else but she can with me.

It strikes me that this might reveal that support and education are mutually exclusive for most of us. That is to say, we can’t be in our comfortable spot and grow. I think about all the times that I’ve done business projects with more experienced colleagues or climbed mountains when someone else was leading the group. I know in those cases I relaxed in a way that made it harder for me to access mental toughness.

That is a beautiful part of being part of a group or family or partnership. But I’m starting to see that when I’ve grown the most, it’s when I’ve moved outside my comfort zone and in many cases, done things alone.

Which brings me to the heart of her answer to my friend, Rachel. Miss O knew that paddle boarding hadn’t gone well but has reached the age where she wanted to cover it over with a “good.” But that makes me very grateful that she, at least for now and maybe forever, can cry with me. She’ll have plenty of other opportunities to learn from other people and experiences but even when growing, we all need a comfortable spot to come home to rest.

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. ‘Pooh!’ he whispered. ‘Yes, Piglet?’ ‘Nothing’ said Piglet taking Pooh’s paw, ‘I just wanted to be sure of you.’ “ – A. A. Milne from The House at Pooh Corner

The other day I picked my son up from preschool and my daughter from spending an afternoon with my mom and from the instant we were in the car together, the fussing started. My daughter was covering my son’s eyes and he didn’t like that, she didn’t like her attempts at play not being well received and the crabbiness mushroomed from there.

As a mom with two young kids, I’ve thought a lot about being someone’s safe place. My kids fuss, fret and freely object with me in a way that they don’t with anyone else. Often it’s after they have been somewhere else and behaved marvelously according the reports I get, that they fuss the most. It’s as if holding themselves together comes with this letting down of the hair with me. I’m pretty patient but whining gets my goat. I don’t whine (not out loud at least) and I hate (thinking about whether there is a less potent word to be used here but nope, hate is accurate) when my kids whine. Crying, having a fit, objecting strongly – all of that I can handle but whining, especially symphonic whining that moves from one kid to the next and ARGH!!

It’s the idea of being someone’s safe place that both fascinates and saves me. In a world where it’s not possible to be happy all the time but not acceptable to express anything but happiness, safe places are where we get to act out that shadow side. Our safe people are the ones who can help us process the grime that collects during the day and practice shaking it off, sometimes by creating friction and rubbing up against others who help us shine again.

When my daughter was about 3-years-old she became very interested in the Narrator in the Winnie-the-Pooh chronicles. She wanted to know who the voice was that was providing context and integrating the story. She’d want me to pretend I had a microphone and narrate her activities. I’ve come to think of being my kid’s safe place like being that personal narrator – someone who helps them understand the bigger story around the things they are seeing and learning when out and about in the world. Someone who helps them figure out how they are feeling and reacting to it all.

Once I learned from Mark Nepo that the German root of the word friendship means place of high safety it changed how I think of that hallowed ground between friends. Because I believe we do the same thing for our friends that I do for my kids – we help each other work out our stories. We listen to the bumps, bruises, moments of awe and renewal again and again if necessary until we work out our narratives.

When I see it that way, I feel less abused by the acting out. While I’d prefer that I bring out the best in my kids, I can handle when it seems I bring out their worst. I can find grace for the fact that I’m allowing the authenticity of my kids to show and opening the opportunity to talk about our values, respect for others and ways of handling things when we are overloaded with information and activity. And when I sometimes growl, “Stop whining” which isn’t my best either I’m glad I get to work that out in my safe space too.

Tag: safety

Growth and Comfort

A Safe Place