Tag Archives: family relationships

Mom Wisdom: See, I wouldn’t like that

My mom has much wisdom, and it is often compressed into a succinct statement. One such statement is the beautifully versatile, “See, I wouldn’t like that.”

It is a thoughtful, personally disclosing and completely nonjudgmental response to all sorts of statements and behaviors. 

A distant relative has gotten an uncomfortable looking piercing. See, I wouldn’t like that, having a hole in my lip. But it’s not my lip.

Another family member is an avid hunter, while she is a vegetarian. See, I wouldn’t like that. But I’m sure it’s good to save money on food and of course the poor animal had at least a better quality of life while it lasted than those poor animals trapped in commercial stalls.

An elderly family member is planning a hiking and camping trip in the mountains. Well, good for her, but I wouldn’t like that. I’m sure she’ll have fun.

She will not pretend to agree with an opinion to keep the peace; she will not be abrasive or confrontational about it, either. She will not pretend that she, too, would want to skydive or travel someplace with large insects or otherwise engage in activities that she finds unappealing. She will listen, ask lots of questions, show genuine interest in the topic, seek to understand the other person’s enthusiasm, be encouraging and may also remark, well, see, I wouldn’t like that.

We have, to some extent, adopted this expression. Even when making an observation about something, such whether to go to the local First-Friday concert when the music is not a genre we enjoy, no criticism is necessary, just the agreement that lots of people will really enjoy it but, see, we wouldn’t like that.

I wonder what changes would ripple out if more people, instead of criticizing others for thinking or doing differently, the first stance was that respectful curiosity followed by a personal reflection that has nothing to do with whether the other party is “right” or “wrong.”  The alternative is a world where people fight or even cut one another out of their lives for matters that are more personal opinions than principles and too often, too little effort is made to find some common ground. And, see, I wouldn’t like that.

Cutting off Mom and Dad, Part 2

As previously explored, the culture undermines parent-child relationships. One way is the manipulation of expectations of normalcy. Young adults are frequently told to believe that anything less than absolute, craven praise and approval, of anything, is some sort of miserable toxicity and not to be borne. The relationship must be severed, even with parents.

On the flip side, many parents feel that their position as parent gives them license to offer criticism, advice, and endless commentary on their adult child’s habits, clothes, parenting, etc.  If you are financing an adult child, then I would suggest you tell your child what you will do – not what the adult child will do. You can’t make them do anything, but you can control yourself.  A self-sufficient adult who lives on their own, paying their own way, and raising a healthy, well-adjusted child does not need unsolicited advice or undermining, either.

If you’re thinking, reading this, that you jolly well can make them do something – well, actually, no, not without force.  We parents specialize in saying things that can’t be enforced, silly things like yelling at a toddler, “You’re going to get in there and go to sleep right now!” The average three-year-old has figured out you can’t make her go to sleep; and if you do anything that forces sleep, and I find out, I will report you to Child Protective Services. A three-year-old is portable:  you can pick them up and transport them to their bed, over and over, but the command to sleep is just a waste of syllables.

Sometimes, fellow parents, you may be grieving. You had your child, and you had dreams. You imagined a long future, that child’s adulthood, and the ideal fantasy of whatever your engagement with that child’s future life would be.  I was hoping for a shared private practice (we had discussed this, to be fair!) and lots of hands-on times with grandchildren and spent a couple of decades amassing cookie cutters and art supplies that seldom needed, and given away with much grief, grief not for the things but for the unfulfilled dreams. Instead, I have an adult child of whom I am immensely proud who lives many hours away, and that means her husband and their lovely child are far away, too.  I don’t get to impose my dream, or a guilt trip about my unfulfilled dream, on them. Doing so would be foolish and unfair, and reduce the likelihood I can enjoy what I have, which is far more than many people have, and a situation that those who are involuntarily childless would envy.

So…this set of posts on family cut-offs doesn’t solve anything. I don’t have any big, smart solutions or a therapy intervention that will take away the pain of alienation from the very people for whom you would willingly die. Perhaps it can open up some ideas for reflection, or conversation. If you are an adult who has cut off a parent, please reconsider, seriously and prayerfully, on whether their behavior warrants that wall of silence. If you are a parent, wondering what you have done, perhaps there is room to change the ways in which you try to influence or even make demands on someone who does not belong to you.  Perhaps there is nothing to be done except wait and pray, which comprise tremendous power in the long run.  What to pray? I do not know. I can tell you how I pray, across all relationships: family, friends, clients, students, our leaders, our enemies…that both the other party, and I, be open to becoming who God wants us to be. Amen.

Taking it to the mats

What ever happened to giving someone some grace?  Or being tolerant?

As regular readers, I occasionally page through popular magazines just to see what sort of toxins are floating around in the public sphere.  It’s less time-consuming and annoying than hours of screen time. Between what I read, and what I hear from those on the receiving end of what is often cruelty, there is a whole lot less tolerance in these self-referentially oh-so-tolerant times than in the past. Often supposedly tolerant people demand that any disagreement be taken to the mats, verbally if not physically.

To be clear, I am talking about disagreements between people where there is no violence or threat of violence. I am not talking about adopting a “live and let live” attitude about child abuse or elder exploitation or criminal acts. I wonder where tolerance and grace went when it comes to the people we encounter in nonviolent settings in our daily lives.

A simple little example was an advice columnist’s suggestion that dealing with an annoying “friend” who calls during work hours and drains your energy and time with daily drama should comprise a formal sit-down in which you express how their thoughtless behavior impacts your feelings and your work, and expect some sort of mature, measured apology.  I am practical. My guidance would be along these lines: this is your “friend.” Surely you noticed before this that she seemingly has the thoughtlessness and flimsy self-control of a spoiled tween.  You accepted the friendship under those terms; she hasn’t changed. You have. Stop taking calls or looking at texts from her during work. What kind of job allows you to chat with friends on the employer’s dime?  Call her back when it’s convenient. And, if you choose to be friends with her, accept that she is as she is. She will be immature and you will have to set boundaries. Sure, tell her you can’t be interrupted at work. But you and I both know that having a nice little sit-down with her isn’t worth the aggravation. Imagine the flood of drama, spilling and splashing all over the table at the coffee shop.

In families, people disagree. At Thanksgiving, if you are fortunate enough to have family and friends with whom you can gather, people will have differing opinions. At least one of them may have misplaced their tolerance or drowned it in some substance of abuse. What to do? You might have fun arguing. My late cousin George, who had Soviet bullet fragments in his leg from his teenage adventures helping people escape from East Berlin, would take a perspective he didn’t necessarily agree with, for the entertainment of developing and defending a position, and do it with a twinkle in his eye. You might find that stressful; your plan may be to discreetly go do some dishes because “here s/he goes again.”  You might enlist at least one ally in a plan to divert and change topics if the intolerant person who expects everyone else to be tolerant starts pontificating. You might decide to politely express your perspective. Depending on the people present, any of those may be prudent.

Some people implode relationships foolishly. I know people who were cut off on the flimsiest of rationale; because they are “too negative,” or “worry too much.”  People cut off parents because their parents do not “support” (as in overtly cheer and brag about) their adult child’s career choice, tattoos, or other decisions.  And, conversely, parents cut off adult children.  In cases where people are dangerous, or truly disruptive (the addicted adult child who breaks in and steals from the parents; the abusive parent; the family member who is aggressive and belligerent about their cause-du-jour, as examples) then yes, safety and sanity require appropriate distance-setting. This is sad, even when necessary.

I’m not an appeaser or a door mat. When it comes to disagreements, I think that freedom requires that we live and let live in peace (that’s what tolerance used to mean) until the circumstances are such that it is necessary. Necessary means that an expectation for compliance is placed upon me, a demand that I change my mind or pretend to agree with something I find false.  It is necessary when harm is being done, is threatened, or is imminent. That is when it is important to speak up, calmly and rationally, to base my position in fact and refuse to play silly word games. Speak calmly, peacefully, firmly and succinctly, refusing to pretend. That would be a way to “take it to the mats.”

Paraphrasing St. Francis of Assisi – Peace and every good to you.

Using the Right Tool for the Job

When painting, the particular tools have to suit the purpose at hand.  Pastels, my favorite medium, range from hard to very soft. The degree of hardness impacts the way they make marks and interact with the painting surface. Thus, they are used in ways appropriate to the task at hand. Softly blended colors – the distant trees, faintly blued by atmospheric effect – call out for soft pastels. The graceful lines of bare branches glimpsed through foliage are served better by a harder pastel.  Use the wrong tool for the job and it is an exercise in frustration.

Just so, the various ways in which we communicate with one another have their preferred and best-suited purposes. I write letters in long hand to some family and friends; email has its role. The humble text message is an absolute delight in its place.  Its place is best described as the brief sharing of simple data:

Writing out Christmas cards, can’t find Uncle Lew’s new address

123 Orchard Street, Apt. A, S______, STATE, ZIP.

Thanks.

Or,

At the rest stop at US 19 and I-10, should be there in about 3 hours.

Great! See you then!

Or, perhaps, sharing a quick photo: a hummingbird, frozen in flight; a child in her sports uniform, a lovely sunset.

Text messages, on the other hand, are wretchedly inadequate for important conversations and emotional expressions beyond, “Love you! Have a good day!” sort of messages. They are inadequate for many reasons.

For one, they are brief.  Unless you have the ability to reduce complex ideas to simple, yet not simplistic, expression with the elegance of C.S. Lewis, the affective concision of Yeats and the incisive observational skills of Shakespeare, give up the notion of effectively resolving complex interpersonal issues via text.  We are, none of us, up to the task.

Worse, when we misstep, believing ourselves to be abundantly clear, we cannot see, or hear, the nuances of small muscle movements, pupil changes, swallowing, breathing, voice tone and volume, that alert us to make corrective efforts. Instead, our misstep is enshrined in visible form, to be reviewed and the misunderstanding (or all-too-clear awfulness) revisited and engraved into the heart and mind of the recipient, as well as anyone with whom they share it in an attempt to justify themselves in their rage and hurt.

You might say, well, the same can be said for email (right) and for the older, handwritten letter. For the latter, until fairly recently, writing was laborious: a pen to be perpetually sharpened and wiped; liquid ink to let dry. Even now, the arm and hand movements of script engage more of the brain, slow the process, and thus allow time to reflect before dashing off a reactive and possibly toxic response.

Many clients have explored in session the dilemma of family members demanding a text message interaction to address – now! – some emotionally rich and complex issue.  I urge them, and everyone, to resist giving in to the juvenile and narcissistic insistence that something of apparent critical import be reduced to text messages.  It is quite common for people to demand immediate exchange via text, repeatedly insisting you explain yourself (or whatever it is they require). If it cannot be face to face, at least do so via voice when both people are rested, sober and have time. Audible clues of tone, volume, steadiness and rhythm can help you assess how the conversation is going. If you are dealing with a reasonable person, refuse to have serious dialogue via text. If you are dealing with someone who is unpredictably volatile, irrational, or substance-using, potentially violent, seek appropriate safety and guidance.

So, what to do? There are multiple right answers here, of course; feel free to enter into a text message discussion of why you dislike your sibling’s fiancé, or don’t want your in-laws at the birthday party, or are upset about your child’s fifth undergraduate major in three years. I’d recommend against it. I offer, as a starter set, a few options to firmly, and lovingly, employ as you refuse to play the “text message” game.

“I love you too much to have a conversation about something clearly this important to you by text. Let’s figure a time when we can both be well-rested and ready to talk.”

“This sounds like a topic best discussed face to face. When would be a good time for you?”

“I’m glad you let me know this is something we need to address. When can we discuss?”

The possibility exists that you are dealing with someone, including someone you love, who is emotionally immature. Perhaps they demand, imagining they need, immediate gratification in terms of “resolution”. By resolution, they may mean getting you to agree they are right or bullying you into capitulating in some other way. At worst, they may be willing to cancel you if you stumble through an awkward and unexpected conversation. If you love someone this immature, whether friend or partner or family member, it is a sad state of affairs.  Still, giving in and trying to have emotionally complex conversations by text message (or email) will ineluctably lead to misunderstandings that can be read and reinforced in perpetuity. Just refuse.

Because, of course, you love them too much to reduce their concerns to a mere text message.