1011 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 6

As yesterday's post was brief, I've copied it here instead of suggesting you go back to review insights added in the late afternoon …

At not quite three years old—and for many years thereafter—I did what most children do.  I took the best aspects of life with my parents for granted.  Today, reflection suggests that my parents shared two powerful strengths, which profoundly affected everyone in our family:

Each conveyed the ability to express love and accept love in return.

My father, whose eyes shone with a joyful passion for life, had been famous for flashing smiles as bright as sunbeams at his wife and daughters.  As for Mom, the depth of her love of family cast a quiet glow as heartwarming as Dad’s natural bent toward expressiveness.  I’d felt welcomed to nestle in the tender warmth of my mother’s embrace, and unknowingly, I'd looked to emulate her womanly traits in every way.

Each time I’d looked up at my Dad, I saw much more than a male authority figure.  I saw a handsome, blue-eyed, blond, solidly built, super hero, who, in all of life’s arenas, seemed masterfully immune to defeat.

In reality, Dad had tipped out at five-foot-six.  Even so, his super sized spirit had far surpassed his height, and his playful imagination proved so engaging it’s no wonder why I grew up laughing at his corny jokes, worshipping the ground he walked on and eagerly obeying his every word.  In addition to being my first playmate—Dad was my hero.

Cradled in the safe haven of my parents' love, I developed a strong sense of trust concerning those who had my best interests at heart vs. those who would dismiss my needs in favor of their own.  Then something changed:  Tragedy struck our family, fear shook up my brain, and my needs became entangled with the needs of those I loved.  There's a term for this fearful state of mind in which a child fails to develop a voice that can freely say:  Sorry, but that won't work for me.  This fearful state of mind is called enmeshment.

Though we often misperceive of an enmeshed relationship as being 'close', upon deeper consideration a friendship, based in mutual respect, suggests that both parties develop the ability to say 'no' with authenticity.

In the aftermath of our family's tragedy, I only felt safe when Dad held me close.  Why?  Well, that remains to be seen as this story continues to unfold …

May 6, 2014

In later years, I'll walk down the aisle, and as Will takes me as his bride, you'll see me take no issue with the verbiage:  love, honor, and obey.  Why?  Because thought patterns are the same as habits.  Hindsight offers us insight into the submissive nature of my subconscious thought pattern:  Each time I serve the needs of others and receive a smile, I'll feel safe from being abandoned, which I'd unconsciously feared since the age of three.

In the aftermath of our family's tragedy, saving myself from possible abandonment became my greatest need, as proves classically true of over achieving pleasers.  Therefore, whenever possible, I'd say yes in hopes of winning a smile.  If for some reason a yes proved impossible and upon saying no I'd received so much as a hint of a frown anxiety spiked.  As anxiety spins the mind into a swirl of confusion, I'd feel conflicted and afraid.  Damned if I'd honored my needs, damned if I didn't.  Not a healthy way to live.  

In recent years, an intuitive quest led me to wander onto the path of self discovery where insights gained along the way, concerning the negative effects of unidentified fear, have offered me countless opportunities to develop an assertive voice, silenced by terror at the age of three.  This voice, which is mine, today, expresses my needs assertively and respectfully.

On the other hand, no matter how clearly and compassionately my needs have been expressed, lots of boats continue to hit the rocks.  Why?  In the past, when I'd felt pressed to serve the needs of another, it had been my habit to dismiss my needs so good-naturedly that no one was aware of my repressed frustration—including me.  Over these past two decades, while working mindfully to acquire the self confidence to drop the role of first mate in favor of captaining my own ship, power struggles developed.

Power struggles ensue when those accustomed to having their needs satisfied bump up against unexpected resistance.  Adult power struggles can be so subtle that we don't recognize how often one person bows to the needs of another.  Though we all know why speaking skills are vital to success, the importance of developing listening skills is less widespread.

People tend to hear what they fear

Or we hear what we want more readily than

Absorbing the true meaning of

That which has been said

You know the expression:  In one ear out the other?  Well, try this one on for size:  As soon as the defensive portion of the human brain is aroused, the ear acts like a trampoline, suggesting that no part of change is absorbed into the conscious mind, at all.  No part of change other than:  Hey!  You're not taking good care of me, anymore.  This condition of deafness has a name:  Denial

If one person, works to establish a new foundation based in mutual respect while the other, who is struggling unconsciously to re-establish dominance, the pressure of escalating tension between the two may cause their original foundation to crack in half.  If at that point a new foundation is not laid, friends or partners tend to separate.

If you ask me to describe why a build up of inner tension turned my mind into a pressure cooker at the age of three, I'd reply:  For most of my life, I did not understand that my decision-making process was in need of reconsideration.  Each time I'd felt the need to assert myself, my head pulsed with fear as though inner conflict and external conflict were actually squeezing all sense of inner peace in a vice.

Thank goodness for EMDR therapy, which guides me toward consciously enhancing character traits, such as patience, courage, humility, compassion, forgiveness and mutual respect, all of which strengthen the sense of self trust that I’d lost at the age of three.  If I had to name one trait that has not been in need of strengthening during my quest toward change-for-the-better that would be positive focus.  As you may recall, my therapist believes I'm addicted to hope.

Though Carrie's belief may be true, this much I know:  In order to create lasting change for the better, both parties, engaged in a power struggle, must develop a whale of patience, a tolerance for escalating tension, well disciplined self control, and flexibility of thought.  If one mind works to enhance these strengths while the mindset of the other remains stubbornly rooted in denial, their power struggle will not resolve.

The only way to disengage from a power struggle of this magnitude is to drop my end of the rope.  This is easier said than done, because many adult power struggles tend to be so subtle that they remain unidentified for many years.  During sessions of EMDR, I came to recognize the subtle nature of power struggles in which I'd unwittingly engaged.  Once I embark upon this quest to captain my own ship and you'll watch me recognize one subtle power struggle after another, you'll watch me drop my end of rope after rope without severing ties with those I love.

Francine Shapiro, PhD. is the founder of EMDR.  You might find it of interest to read her book:  Getting Past Your Past.  If not for yourself, then perhaps in hopes of deepening your understanding of someone you love, who may be struggling with unprocessed memories associated with PTSD.  An example of an unprocessed memory will appear in a story that takes place before my fourth birthday.  This unprocessed memory will have sent me on undeserved guilt trips for most of my life.  

"Francine Shapiro's discovery of EMDR therapy is one of the most important breakthroughs in the history of psychotherapy." — Norman Doidge, MD, author of The Brain That Changes Itself

For some reason, I felt a pressing need to condense a wealth of knowledge concerning the subtle nature of adult power struggles into today's post.  Perhaps that was the case because I came close to being sucked back into a power struggle during recent weeks.  Thank goodness intuition suggested my not picking up the rope when baited.

And having satisfied that pressing need, where were we?

Oh yes—I was a child of not quite three, worshipping my Dad ...