Less of me
We went again to see Dr. Connie this last Thursday, the Bear and I.
She's the behavioral psychologist who's helping us get our footing again. The wife and I originally went to Dr. Connie intending to get insight and direction on what we should do for the two youngest boys, but more and more it seems like the focus is on training the parents in the way that they should go, in the belief that then the children will follow.
There's a certain rationale there, I suppose. If the parents can do it 24/7 with the kid, that's more effective than having a doc do it for an hour a week.
My mother and I had a discussion about the nature of all these instructions, and when I say them out loud, they seem to simple to be useful. There is no outwardly apparent moment of understanding, and to read them on paper, they all seem to be things I felt I was doing all along--encouragement, praise, time-outs, touch. But they get specific. And picky. And arguments could be made that other methods may work just as well--that it doesn't have to be this rigid, so-sure-of-itself approach. I mean, look at my older two. I seemed to do ok with them without professional help.
But at the end of the day, we are seeing results there I just can argue with. Ones for which we've been looking for a very long time.
I do wrestle inside, though, with something I haven't been able put my finger on. But may have finally figured it out.
A while back I tried to save the world by taking in a young girl. That didn't go so well, and I went into a sort of depression over something when it was over. I was worried about the fate of this young girl I had come to care for, of course. But perhaps I was a bit in morning for myself, as well. There were unspoken things I held inside me for a long time that I felt gave me value in the world. But when put up against something like the needs of this girls, were completely insufficient. So that understanding of myself had to die, and I had to try and figure out who I was again.
Before that, I had a career identity that I devoted years of my life and mental energy toward in the theater, which, in the end, became a burden to heavy to carry, and so that also had to be purged.
Now again, here I am. Each time I feel that I have had my entire self stripped away, I find one more layer. The peeling begins again, tearing, and the pain is sharp.
This time I was the image of myself as natural father. I couldn't articulate what lead to "my successes", but I was happy that dumb luck had lead me to some sort of aptitude that served me well, and served my kids well.
And yet now I find myself sitting on the floor of this clinic, while I learn to play with my boy from scratch. Unlearning everything I thought I knew, and replacing it with. . . what?
Nothing.
This new approach pulls the focus off of me, makes me less in the equation and strives to put the focus on the behavior of the little man, because, after all, that is what we're wanting to shape and channel here, isn't it?
Not that I've ever wanted all the attention on me. I’ve never been one to seek the spotlight for it’s own sake. In fact, when I was doing mostly tech, if a show was well received and any aspect of my contribution played into the success, I was very happy to stand back and let it reflect well on the director or actors in the show. I was much more comfortable in the background. Let my work speak for itself.
This made my wife crazy. On several occasions she has pressed on me to go forward to self promote in these kind of circumstances. She felt I was due for all my hard work. I could never bring myself to do it.
If ever there was an occasion where I was the performer or director and people came forward to thank me for the evenings event, I did my best to be gracious while inside fighting the urge to flee.
But even so, I struggle. Not to feel like less. I feel like I bring nothing. Just a body, and a touch, and a smile, and an encouraging word. What makes me distinct in providing those things? All this stripping away has me feeling a bit diminished. If someone were to walk up to me off the street and ask me who I am, I’m not sure I’d have much to tell them any more. Nothing I think that could hold their interest, at any rate.
But to these two little men living in my house, I am their universe at the moment. So I must make sure my spiral arms turn in such a way that the gravity I create keeps their feet firmly planted, so that the first step of their thousand mile journey can find solid purchase.
I must decrease, so that they can increase. The seed must die so the tree can grow.
I love these little boys so much that I will do this, because it's like spring rain to them. They thrive under it.
It's not about me, it's about them.
Then perhaps years from now, maybe I can discover myself again in time to be exciting for my grandkids. And if my parents are any indication, it's going to be quite a ride. They are in Arkansas at a National Miata owners convention, tooling around in a little red sports car. So James Dean.
(But hopefully not to much like James Dean--I need them around).
Update: At lunch today my fortune was: "This year your highest priority will be your family."
woah
She's the behavioral psychologist who's helping us get our footing again. The wife and I originally went to Dr. Connie intending to get insight and direction on what we should do for the two youngest boys, but more and more it seems like the focus is on training the parents in the way that they should go, in the belief that then the children will follow.
There's a certain rationale there, I suppose. If the parents can do it 24/7 with the kid, that's more effective than having a doc do it for an hour a week.
My mother and I had a discussion about the nature of all these instructions, and when I say them out loud, they seem to simple to be useful. There is no outwardly apparent moment of understanding, and to read them on paper, they all seem to be things I felt I was doing all along--encouragement, praise, time-outs, touch. But they get specific. And picky. And arguments could be made that other methods may work just as well--that it doesn't have to be this rigid, so-sure-of-itself approach. I mean, look at my older two. I seemed to do ok with them without professional help.
But at the end of the day, we are seeing results there I just can argue with. Ones for which we've been looking for a very long time.
I do wrestle inside, though, with something I haven't been able put my finger on. But may have finally figured it out.
A while back I tried to save the world by taking in a young girl. That didn't go so well, and I went into a sort of depression over something when it was over. I was worried about the fate of this young girl I had come to care for, of course. But perhaps I was a bit in morning for myself, as well. There were unspoken things I held inside me for a long time that I felt gave me value in the world. But when put up against something like the needs of this girls, were completely insufficient. So that understanding of myself had to die, and I had to try and figure out who I was again.
Before that, I had a career identity that I devoted years of my life and mental energy toward in the theater, which, in the end, became a burden to heavy to carry, and so that also had to be purged.
Now again, here I am. Each time I feel that I have had my entire self stripped away, I find one more layer. The peeling begins again, tearing, and the pain is sharp.
This time I was the image of myself as natural father. I couldn't articulate what lead to "my successes", but I was happy that dumb luck had lead me to some sort of aptitude that served me well, and served my kids well.
And yet now I find myself sitting on the floor of this clinic, while I learn to play with my boy from scratch. Unlearning everything I thought I knew, and replacing it with. . . what?
Nothing.
This new approach pulls the focus off of me, makes me less in the equation and strives to put the focus on the behavior of the little man, because, after all, that is what we're wanting to shape and channel here, isn't it?
Not that I've ever wanted all the attention on me. I’ve never been one to seek the spotlight for it’s own sake. In fact, when I was doing mostly tech, if a show was well received and any aspect of my contribution played into the success, I was very happy to stand back and let it reflect well on the director or actors in the show. I was much more comfortable in the background. Let my work speak for itself.
This made my wife crazy. On several occasions she has pressed on me to go forward to self promote in these kind of circumstances. She felt I was due for all my hard work. I could never bring myself to do it.
If ever there was an occasion where I was the performer or director and people came forward to thank me for the evenings event, I did my best to be gracious while inside fighting the urge to flee.
But even so, I struggle. Not to feel like less. I feel like I bring nothing. Just a body, and a touch, and a smile, and an encouraging word. What makes me distinct in providing those things? All this stripping away has me feeling a bit diminished. If someone were to walk up to me off the street and ask me who I am, I’m not sure I’d have much to tell them any more. Nothing I think that could hold their interest, at any rate.
But to these two little men living in my house, I am their universe at the moment. So I must make sure my spiral arms turn in such a way that the gravity I create keeps their feet firmly planted, so that the first step of their thousand mile journey can find solid purchase.
I must decrease, so that they can increase. The seed must die so the tree can grow.
I love these little boys so much that I will do this, because it's like spring rain to them. They thrive under it.
It's not about me, it's about them.
Then perhaps years from now, maybe I can discover myself again in time to be exciting for my grandkids. And if my parents are any indication, it's going to be quite a ride. They are in Arkansas at a National Miata owners convention, tooling around in a little red sports car. So James Dean.
(But hopefully not to much like James Dean--I need them around).
Update: At lunch today my fortune was: "This year your highest priority will be your family."
woah
posted by Will at 2:46 PM
1 Comments:
Here's what I think: your "struggle" (for lack of a better word) around what it takes to be a father - how you re-asses what is required, and how to give your heart to your kids in a way that is best for them IS what makes you a natural father. Even if the DOING doesn't come naturally. Know what I mean James Dean?
xoxo D
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