Sunday, May 17, 2015

Things My Parents Didn't Teach Me

Once, on my birthday, plans were in the works to commemorate the occasion by going out to dinner.  My sons, who were around ages 3 and 6 at the time, were instructed to "get dressed up" for this event, and the youngest ran off with surprising enthusiasm to comply.  In a few minutes, it became apparent why he was so excited, when he returned costumed as a ghost, ready to celebrate.

As a parent, many things we say to our children will be like this.  Even though they seem to be clearly stated and clearly heard, somewhere between instruction and application, something will go awry.  Things that seem obvious to us will make our own words seem unmistakable; we will give directions and advice, impart words of wisdom we think cannot be misinterpreted; they will hear only what they understand, through the lens of what seems obvious to them.

All of us have "heard" these messages from parents and other influential voices in our lives.  Many have carried them for years, sometimes for life, unthinkingly, without examination.  It can take a lifetime (or maybe the events of a lifetime) to realize that, in our immaturity and the incompleteness of our understanding, we have failed to cultivate the seeds of wisdom that were given to us in a way that has yielded fruit in our lives.  Sometimes we have even used them in ways that have caused harm to us, rather than good.

I've written before, more than once, about things my family and my parents have taught me.  But there are also things they didn't teach me, things I "learned" anyway.  None of them are anything my parents would have intended.  All of them have the potential for harm.  I'm certain there are more, lurking somewhere below the surface; but these are the ones that have loomed large enough, with the accumulation of age, experience, and (hopefully) wisdom, to be found out.

1.  Everything is your responsibility.  All of us would love to have children who are more responsible.  We try to teach them to take responsibility for themselves, and to fulfill their responsibilities to others, just as my parents did for me.  In fact, this is one of the most valuable skills they equipped me with for life.  But it is possible to take this message a little too much to heart, and develop what a colleague of mine and I have (not so) jokingly titled ORD--Over-Responsibility Disorder.  The constant message of my household was, "Look around and see what needs to be done.  If you see something, do it."  My parents' intent was that my brother and I would take initiative as contributing members of our household.  That was a very good thing.  I don't know how well we did it in childhood--maybe not so well, and that's why we heard it so often.  :)  The problem with over-internalizing this is that there is always something that needs to be done, and you have just mentally assigned yourself responsibility for all of it.  This mentality easily generalizes to much more than just household tasks, and when it does, it can create a very unhealthy situation, at work, at home, in relationships, and in every aspect of life.  All the work is yours to do--and the outcome is directly up to you, also, by the way, since you are the one doing all the work--and this sounds reasonable to you.

2.  You are the only one who doesn't matter.  Unselfishness is unquestionably a virtue, and one that most parents spend a great deal of time trying to instill in their children.  Especially in households where the doctrines of Christianity are taught, putting others before yourself is the most basic of principles.  Not only that, but several companion virtues are usually also present, such as obedience, and undertaking a difficult or unpleasant task without complaining.  There are Scriptures, in fact, to reinforce the importance of all of these.  There's no question that often, decisions have to be made and tasks have to be undertaken in which the feelings of children are not the primary factor to be considered--in which their role, by necessity, is to obey, or to go forward without complaint.  I have told my own children, many times, in either a repetition or an interpretation of what my own parents said to me, "Nobody's asking how you feel about it," or even, "Right now, how you feel about it doesn't matter."  And of course, it is true that we should all act unselfishly, considering others as at least as important as ourselves.  But a correct understanding of this will allow us to know that others should be doing the same--that our thoughts, feelings, and needs do matter, and that they are also to be acknowledged and cared for.  When I misunderstand this, I believe that everyone matters but me; even if someone offers acknowledgment and caring, I have no basis for accepting it.  Now, not only must I take on responsibility for everyone else's well-being, but I can accept no care for my own. 

3.  If someone treats you badly, it's your fault.  When I was 19 years old, my father told me what was possibly the wisest and most important thing anyone has said to me from that day to this.  He said, "You deserve to be treated well.  And it is your responsibility to put yourself in a situation where that is going to happen."  I heard this and understood it--I accepted this responsibility.  As life went along, though, I found that situations in which I was not treated well seemed somehow harder to avoid than I had expected.  And when I found myself in them, and I was treated badly, I knew just whose fault it was.  Mine.  After all, it had been my responsibility, and this is how I had discharged it.  If the outcome was unsatisfactory, I had no one to blame but myself.  My mistake was this--many things, including the first two in this list, blinded me to the reality that the responsibility of finding a situation in which I was treated well was not a one-time, irreversible choice.  It was a responsibility that is ongoing.  Believing that I was the one ultimately to blame for being in a place that was toxic, hostile to me and dangerous to my well-being, only allowed me to stay in it indefinitely; the choice was made, and the task now was living with it.

With my little one in his ghost costume, I went proudly out to dinner, his childish misunderstanding a source of nothing but delight.  However, in the real territory of our hearts and minds, the distorted messages are far more sinister--they are deceptive, dysfunctional, dangerous.  They have crept in so early, sidled alongside us so quietly, that their presence can be nearly undetectable.  Seeing them, rooting them out, can be daily work.  What lessons are you living by that no one taught you? The freedom gained is worth the effort of asking.

No comments:

Post a Comment