I was'renovating' my old blog and came across an old post. I loved this article.
In
their hands
by Peggy O'Mara,
Publisher/Editor, Mothering Magazine
"When our children are
young, we hold their lives in our hands. This is a serious charge. It changes
us. As our children grow older, however, we begin to put ourselves in their
hands. And when we do, we are glad that the history we share is so deep.
I took a road trip recently with three of my kids to visit my son, who
is a whitewater river rafting guide for the summer. I knew as soon as my son
told me he was going to be a guide that I would have to go on the river and face
my fear of the rapids.
It was not the first time that parenthood has
pushed me to go beyond a limited sense of myself I've previously put myself in
my children?s hands for other adventures. I believe my son if he tell me, "It's
all good, Mom." I know that I am truly accommodated, that my weakness is
tolerated, and that my fears are responded to with good humor.
My son, on
the other hand, is friends with fear. He likes to snowboard fast down frozen
water in the winter and raft down fast-moving water in the summer. As a one year
old, he would lie with his ear to the floor and listen to the water as it rushed
down the drain beneath the toilet. As he listened, he said his first word,
Chine! Chine!, short for machine. His first love was a lawn mower. He walked at
about the same age and never minded failing. This was also the baby who spent
the first six months of his life either in arms or in the red Snugli baby
carrier. He was very dependent before he became very independent.
This
was a baby who liked contact, who demanded contact, who wanted always to be in
touch, who in every way is a very physical person. We are often impatient with
babies because they are so physical. The popular media suggests we have to train
our babies to control themselves, to be independent, to sleep, and to obey, as
if these were not things that had intrinsic value and would be learned
naturally, as a matter of course, in human society.
How dangerous for our
society that we distrust the very behavior that is the most necessary for human
survival. It is those babies who demand to be attached who are the most evolved.
And it is the most securely attached babies who will have the best chance to be
the most resilient adults. Resiliency comes from having internalized the
functions of an empathic mother and father.
There is an inherent order in
the nature of things, despite tests of those who suggest that babies must be
taught basic human instincts and made compliant for the convenience of adults.
Nature never contradicts itself, and we can look to nature when we are confused
about how to respond to our children or about making difficult
decisions.
Parents are faced with a myriad of decisions, and we are often
torn between the advice of the experts and our own inner voice. We sometimes
think that there must be an answer outside of ourselves, that we can counter the
anxiety of being totally responsible for another human being by comforting
ourselves with some "dependable" solution. And while there are tried-and-true
solutions that parents have shared with each other from time immemorial, it is
really much simpler than that.
Today, or in any age, there is really only
one decision that underlies all other decisions concerning our children. This
decision is whether we will choose love or fear; whether we will accept or
resist the situations that happen with our children; whether we will choose to
cooperate or to be adversarial with our children; and whether we will, see them
as our equals or wield authority over them. These are the qualities that form
the underbelly of our parenting decisions and the underpinnings of all actions
that we take.
Sometimes we react with fear and authority inappropriately
when we are worried about our own self-image. At other times, we choose fear and
authority because of legitimate concerns over immoral, illegal, or unsafe
behavior. How we make our parenting decisions underscores what we believe about
human beings, about human nature, about the nature of the child. Is' there
inherent order and purpose in our child's development, or must we as parents
bring this order and purpose to our child's life?
It's funny, in a way,
that we have so much trouble trusting our loved ones. Every day we walk into
rooms and buildings built by strangers we'll never see and don't give a second
thought to their inherent integrity. We drive on highways with strangers,
highways built by other strangers, and daily we entrust our lives to them all.
Children are an easy excuse to indulge fear.
Our bodies have autonomic
nervous systems whose functions are automatic. They are not voluntary. This
means that for the really important things, nature has hardwired a system that
cannot be disrupted except under extraordinary circumstances. We cannot stop our
breathing no matter how hard we try without extraordinary devices. If we hold
our breath, we will simply pass out. We cannot will our heart to stop, nor can
we touch or hurt our heart without extraordinary means. Nature never leaves the
really important things to chance. What is the source of our breathing and our
heart rate? It's a mystery that we trust every moment.
The English word
trust comes from the Scandinavian for "faithful, full of faith." To trust
ourselves is to be true to ourselves. Faith is, in itself, a leap. Our faith is
not based on evidence but exists regardless of the evidence. Faith is not a
conclusion, but an affirmation. We can have faith in ourselves as parents, in
our unique challenges and decisions, because we have faith in our children as
accurate barometers of the biological imperative.
Our children are born
hardwired for survival. Their needs and wants are the same. They know what they
need, and they demand it. In hunter-gatherer societies, being in the arms of the
mother meant that the infant was safe from the tiger. In modern times, being
held in another's arms still means survival. The single most important factor
responsible for an infant's normal mental and social development is physical
holding and carrying. Infants need to be in arms. They know it, and they let us
know it.
Current fashions and customs conspire against these natural and
necessary needs of human infants. Devices such as the plastic infant carrying
tray, pacifiers, cribs, and bottles are ways to distance ourselves from our
babies, to gain a respite from the intimacy they require for full human
development. Trends in perceiving the life of the home as servitude and
drudgery, as well as lack of economic support for the family, also conspire to
separate us from our loved ones, as these trends quite literally put physical
distance between us.
Human infants don't like physical distance. They
like constant physical contact. They expect it. They need it. And they're
totally content when they have it. But how do we learn to surrender to this
fierce need when others warn us that we must teach our infants to sleep, to be
independent-and certainly not spoil them?
It?s ridiculous to think that
nature would leave a function as important as sleep to foolish parents, some of
whom would look at each other on their child's eighth birthday and exclaim, "Oh,
honey, we forgot to teach Little Cindy to sleep!" Sleep is a need, not a habit.
It an instinct. It takes care of itself because in nature, all essential
functions take care of themselves.
Holding and carrying infants also take
care of themselves because nature gives babies such endearing qualities that
they are irresistible.,, Responding to their inherent needs develops qualities
necessary for our survival as adults, qualities like consciousness, patience,
generosity, kindness, and bravery. In Darwin's original writings, "survival of
the fittest" refers to those individuals and societies who are the most
sympathetic. A sympathetic culture has the attributes necessary for survival.
Nature itself is sympathetic.
Infants don't only like to be held during
the day, they like to be close at night, too. That's human nature. Yet, we treat
our infants worse than we treat any other humans, or even animals. Under no
circumstances would we leave a crying adult, friend or stranger, alone in a room
without extending our condolences and offers of help. We pride ourselves on this
kind of civility. We sleep with our pets. New puppies or kitties get to come
into the bedroom if they cry.
Just as it is perfectly natural for animals
to sleep together in groups, it is perfectly natural for human infants to want
to sleep with their parents. All animal babies sleep with their mothers. Over
time, human infants teach their parents to enjoy touch again.
Our infants
are hardwired to bring their discomfort to their parent. Crying is their
language. The parent is their interpreter. The infant's sense of discomfort is
nonspecific and undefined. As they mature, they learn to differentiate
sensations and associate them with certain experiences, so that in time they can
specify and name their discomfort. This takes months, even years. Nowhere in the
animal kingdom do we see intolerance of the dependency of infancy. In all of
nature, dependency is protected and indulged.
It is obvious that
dependency is feared by many adults. Many are hungry for intimacy but afraid to
surrender. Yet, life with infants is a surrender. When we just give up and give
them what they need, it becomes so easy. It reminds me of the true meaning of
the Sabbath-a day of leaving things just as they are, not trying to change them,
and not doing anything. With infants, we are but humble servants to what
is.
This kind of surrender has three enemies. They are fear, denial, and
control. Whenever we have trouble trusting our infants, we are usually in the
grip of one of these visitors. They always accompany actions of deep
consequence. They are the guardians who hone our self-esteem. For it is the
difficulties of being a parent that forge us into fuller human beings, with the
track records and courage to face new difficulties.
These difficulties
are better faced when we tell ourselves the truth and see things unclouded by
fear, denial, or control.
What we fear, approach it. What we deny, say
it. What we control, release it. With fear, denial, and control aside, we can
see things in our own unique and authentic way. It is our very innocence as
parents, our freshness and inexperience, that redeem us. With each new family,
nature has another chance. Another chance for happy accidents that change the
course of history. Another chance for amateurs to do something no one else has
ever done before. Another chance for genius.
Don't listen to the experts.
Forget about them unless they come over and help you put your baby to sleep.
Forget about them unless they'll remember your baby's name in 20 years. Don't
give up your authority as a parent to people who don't know your baby as well as
you do or who don't know your baby at all.
Don?t stand unmoving outside
the door of a crying baby whose only desire is to touch you. Go to your baby. Go
to your baby a million times. Demonstrate to your baby that people can be
trusted, that the environment can be trusted, that we live in a benign universe.
The crisis of the first year of life is trust or mistrust. Which will your baby
learn?
Someday you'll need your grown-up baby to go to you. Someday
you'll be in the hands of your baby. Will your baby protect you in the rapids,
or will he be intolerant of your fears and weaknesses, of your
dependencies?
The way you give to your baby now is the beginning of all
that."
Re: Good Article *Long*