Children are Everywhere

I've figured something out.  Actually, to be honest, I've just articulated in my mind something that I've probably always known.  Here it is: most everyone is stuck at some point in their lives prior to now.  We have all been traumatized to one extent or another by some event in our past which has anchored us in an endless loop of recreating our traumatic moment until it magically gets better.  Kind of a personal "Groundhog's Day" on some unconscious level, of the thing that didn't work and we can't get over.

For some people there's an awful touchstone of some sort in our past--potty training that didn't go so well, a birthday party where a humiliating moment took place, someone forgot to lock a door and we saw something we shouldn't have, or an admired adult said or did something that we later discovered was false or misleading or just a lie.

What's so funny about that?

It's really funny when you think about people in positions of power--wealth, fame, authority--who are actually just acting out over and over again, the moment when they were a disappointment to their parent, wanting to prove themselves.  I didn't fit in so I always want to fit in so I always gather those around me who make me feel like I fit in.  I was left alone so I always shape my world to maximize company on a constant basis--never sleep alone, never work alone, develop skills that bring people to me.  I was touched inappropriately as a child so I keep a distance from anyone who might do the same.  I  was laughed at as a child so I laugh at myself before anyone else has a chance to humiliate me.  My father only told me he loved me when something terrible had happened in the family so I am constantly searching for trauma that will remind him of my importance.

So it's an exercise . . . instead of picturing your audience in their underwear so they don't intimidate you, picture the childhood trauma that inspires your colleague to be such a douche.  Imagine the fear of clowns provoked by a bad circus experience that causes your boss to be obsessed with being prepared--he just can't stand surprises.  Imagine the way in which you and I inflict trauma on our children by honestly showing our frustration or delight or surprise or joy in their company.

"Mom.  Please don't ever wear that hat in public again."  How my oldest was traumatized by my utter lack of fashion sensibility as I wore the HeadSox during the snowstorm.  All I did was walk her to the school bus.  How will she be forced to forever compensate in her life for that humiliation?  Perhaps she will be driven to uncompromising success in the hope that she will never have to undergo that level of misery again.  Actually, as trauma goes, I'd like to wish her that one.